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A lonely mother finds an alternative way to satisfy herself.
Nearly confirming that she was alone. The bathroom light and the kitchen lights were on downstairs and it comforted her, because she was afraid of both being alone and being in the dark. But the shadows still played tricks on her mind and she thought she saw movement in the den or spare bedroom. Weary of seeing who or what was there, she stood still. Her heart beat rapidly. She needed to go into the room and see if there was anyone there. It was the only way her heart would feel better. Slowly she picked her foot off the floor and moved it forward, then she did the same with her other one. Moving towards the room she flipped the lightswitch on in the hallway. Her heart still racing she slowly looked into the room. Nothing.
She laughed at herself for the sillyness.
In the kitchen she got herself something to eat and a glass of water. She sat down at the table and began to eat. She remembered her book that she was reading, but it was upstairs and she didnt feel like going to get it. But she wanted it so badly. Books were her life, she would spend hours, days in her room reading. She never tired of them and they were her only comfort when she was lonely, depressed, sad, happy. Any emotion she ever felt was comforted by her books. Words, words, words. She was literally in love with them. She used them like they were salt often times. Putting too much in her sentences and choking other people by the extra amount. Books and words were her only friends.
Outside, she heard a car pull up and a door shut. She was happy to see that it was her older sister come through the door and let a draft of the winter air in. But she stormed upstairs and didnt even say hi. After a couple minutes she heard another car door shut and her mother walked in the door letting a second draft waft into the house and a shivered crawled over her body. Her mother didn't look happy.
"Katy, hi honey, sorry to leave you alone after you passed out, your breathing was fine and you had no temperature, so I tucked you in....," her mother was trying to explain why she left her, but there was no need. Katy understood.
"Mom, its OK. Don't worry, I"m fine," she answered. "What's wrong with her?"
"Shes mad at me," her mom replied, she took her shoes off and hung her coat up on the rack.
"Because I wont let her go to a binge-drinking party."
"Oh......," Katy couldnt understand, her sister always went to those and didnt even bother asking for permission. She wondered what made the difference this time.
"Don't worry about it, she'll be fine." her mother's expression was grim. Much to grim for a simple argument. There was more to the story, but she didnt want to press so she dropped it. She felt as if it wasn't any of her business. Her mother went upstairs and Katy was alone again. Alone.
What a feeling. The ultimate privacy. You can do anything and the only person there to judge you is yourself.
Katy finished her food and drank the rest of her water, she needed to go back upstairs to find out what happens next to her latest heroin. She rinsed off the plate and set it in the sink. The glass broke when she tried to duplicate the action. Her finger was bleeding badly. "MOM!"
Her mother came running downstairs, noticing the distress in her voice. "What? What happened? Oh, my god Katy!"
"Ouch it hurts!" Katy whined.
"I know, I know" her mother went to the cupboard where she kept extra bandages and wraps and ointments. Being as how her mother was a doctor, she had plenty. "Stand still and stop shaking your hand." her mother was trying to calm her.
"Alright....," her voice was weak and she felt dizzy again. It was the sight of blood. She was sure of it. Her breath was short and her head began to throb. Her heart was racing once more. Nothing about the situation was alright. Her mother sensed that it was worse than a cut finger.
"Katy, I'm taking you to the hospital, there we....will....," but her voice trailed and then there was nothing but light. Thud.
The flowers were as beautiful as they were before.