Chapter 3.1

I opened my eyes with a groan, the sunlight piercing my irises. Getting up lazily, I headed to the curtains and closed them roughly. Stretching, I looked around the room, my eyes adjusting to the colors around me. My mom was no where in sight and memories of last night flooded into my mind. Running my hands through my hair in frustration, I turned my head to the left to look at the digital clock on the bedside table. It read 11:15 a.m. No wonder mom is a morning bird. She must be downstairs or something.

After brushing my teeth and taking care of my morning necessities, I slumbered down the stairs in a sleepy fashion and headed towards the kitchen. She wasn’t there either. Just as I was about to lazily wander around the house in a hopeless search, my eyes found a small sheet of paper on the refrigerator door. Curious, I approached it.

My mom must have torn the paper from a notebook or some other stationery as the edges were uneven. The note was pinned to the refrigerator door with one of those colorful refrigerator magnets. Taking it off, I read the messy scrawl of her handwriting.

“Lillian – I’ve gone out to the supermarket in town as I noticed we were running low on some supplies an all. I won’t be long. Hang on tight at home. Hope you had a good night sleep. – Mom.”

Next to her name was a small smiley face and a heart. I was rather surprised she hadn’t remarked on me sleeping with her the night before. Oh well…I had time to kill.

I think the fact that we were very, very low on food stuff and more delayed her from coming home fast; or maybe it’s just me being paranoid about the time going painfully slow. I lounged about the couch, after having a quick breakfast, and I flicked through the channels on TV; finding nothing interesting. I then turned it off and closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep again which proved unsuccessful. With a sigh, I forced myself off the couch and decided to do something useful.

Switching from chores like doing the dishes from last night and washing the clothes, I used my time “wisely” to help make mom’s job easier. But even after all that – cleaning the house and making my home look all sparkly and new – only a half hour had passed.

With a long and frustrated groan, I headed back to the couch to crash hopelessly on it when I remembered I could do just one more thing. Almost feeling excited, I skipped up the stairs, towards my mom’s room, to do the bed. Folding the sheets and the blankets, I rearranged the pillows and covers. Feeling satisfied, I was about to leave the room when I noticed the mattress was kind of crooked.

Slipping my hand underneath to move it  to the right position, my fingers made contact with what felt like a hardcover book. Curious, I pulled it out. It was a notebook, the type that I’d take to school for my notes. Pages stuck out and the familiar handwriting of my mother appeared before my eyes.

Fearing I had encountered something personal like a diary, I decided to sow it back in when I saw my name on one paper. Pulling it out from the stack, I read over the contents. The date was that belonged to a week ago, the day we’d gone to the Anderson’s. I read over it but one particular part caught my eyes.

“Lillian was quiet during the dinner. I did not try to provoke a conversation as I knew it would be unsuccessful. She feels scared to give herself to people anymore. I feel scared. Will she ever change?”

Feeling shocked, I flicked to the first entry in her diary. When did she start this? The date for her first entry was October 20th, exactly a week after the 13th. I read through the entries, knowing I was invading her privacy but I had to know what she though. The first ten to fifteen entries were about her feelings and the Anderson’s. The sixteenth however was about me.

“October 27-

            Dear Diary,

            I’m worried about Lillian. Till now, I had not thought of how Matt’s death would be an impact on her but now I am starting to notice the changes in her. She refuses to come out her room. She has not gone to school in a week now and I fear this has taken a great toll on her mentality. Being a single mother is not a great advantage in this situation either. I do not have anyone to support me during this time and neither does Lillian. She is the only daughter I have and I love her so much, but when I – myself – am having a difficult time, how can I be of any help to her?

            Lillian is not taking this well and I know how much she loved Matt, I don’t know how she will move on. Someone help me. Lillian is all I have and I don’t intend to lose her.”

Shoving the notebook back underneath the bed, I ran to the bathroom, already feeling the tears stinging at my eyes. There was more to it; more words to be read. But I did not dare. I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that I appeared a total disappointment to my mother.

The End

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