to below from above
(if I can’t trust my own mother who can i?)
the worst thing she’s ever done to me and now i have to worry about how she feels.
life-giver why did you try to lie?
all on his holiday – the worst night of my life.
i was startled when i heard sounds of breaking downstairs.
i thought nothing of it at first and then heard a second crash and my brother screaming, “why mom why?!”
i assumed the worst and thought she had done the unthinkable.
i flew down the stairs to find my brother had thrown a ceramic weiner dog through the window while drunk. he also broke a bottle inside the laundry room and had destroyed a jalapeño plant in the backyard. my father and i followed him through the dark to other peoples lawns while all three of us were bare-footed and only in underwear. he shouted all along the way. no doubt waking the neighborhood.
“why did she do this to me?”, he shouted.
the acres of land gave no reply.
even if they could no response could justify what our mother had done to us both.
he told me that he loved me, but needed to be alone. he managed to find a thorn bush and got himself caught in it while trying to get away from me. he asked me to please free him from the bushes. he cut up both his arms and feet while trying to get free.
i removed him from the thorn bush, but at this point he had trouble walking due to the pain. my father and i had to let him rest his weight on our shoulders so he could hop on one foot in the direction of our home.
it took us a while to get that far and now it would take that much longer to get back with the pain he had inflicted on himself.
he did not care about the damage he had done though. he felt no point in keeping his body unharmed now that she had potentially voided all of his hard work.
i am sure that he blames her for the actions he took as well. i promised him when we returned i would take a look at his wounds.
we managed to find our way back through all of the trees and dirt paths.
i placed him on the couch and fetched water as well as a cooking pot to catch his vomit.
i stared at my mother across the living room into the kitchen where she stood still over the mess making eye contact with me.
a few seconds to anyone else, but an image of it was branded in my brain.
i asked her, “do you think it’s worth talking to someone now?”
she assumed i wanted to make her feel bad and told me it was impossible to feel any worse. he threw his water cup and told the girl he loves, but does not date to leave.
she stayed and helped me move him to his bed. his body was heavy in his sedated state due to his inactive/uncooperative muscles. he lays in bed while the girl watches over him. i thanked her for the piece of mind she was giving me in allowing me to sleep knowing he would be safe.
now i rest with three and a half potential hours of sleep before work in the morning.
i awoke to the sound of knocking on my door. it was my mother. she broke down and explained to me that she didn’t know how she did what she had done.
she cried, “if i was in the right state of mind i never would have taken a nickel from you both.”
i agreed and kissed her neck while she hugged me sobbing.
she explained to me that she was checking herself into a hospital in hopes of finding help. my uncle was already in route to shuttle her there. i hugged and kissed her one final time before saying goodbye.
i am confident in saying that my brother, whether he remembers it or not, saved my mother last night. his actions were the only thing that could claim my mothers attention to our unhappiness. how little thought she put into spending our funds and how little thought my brother put into destroying her purchases.