thanks, man! it's great to know people have actually read these. i actually dislike a few of them, i have to force myself to post them so i can see whether people like that style or not. On Holiday and Madness are a couple i dislike, as well as Help Will Come which i'm still trying to tidy up and improve.
anyway, let's do stuff.
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Celia Neen
“Come on, Celia. You've got to eat something.”
I felt I should say something back, but I had past caring about social niceties. It seemed like a chore nowadays.
The nurse sighed. “I know you miss him, but this will do no good.”
I remained silent, staring at an old lady sat by an open window in a state of comatose.
“Promise me you'll have something for dinner.” She said, taking the plate of cold scrambled eggs away from me.
Even if I had wanted to reply, she wouldn't have heard me. She was already out of the room.
I unsteadily got to my feet, and wrapped my dressing gown tighter around me. Glancing around the room, I saw those all too familiar vacant expressions. The residents here were not like me. What had happened? How did I end up here?
The same nurse that was trying to coax me into eating earlier came in again.
“Celia, I've got some good news! There's someone here to see you!”
Not another examination.
The expression on my face must have give away my distaste, so she amended her statement with “I think you'll like this visitor.”
“Hey, ma.”
I recognised that voice. A handsome man walked into my view, and I fell back into my chair. This wasn't right. This wasn't real.
Suddenly, talking wasn't such a problem. I couldn't believe it, my son was visiting me. He was actually here, in front of me. Although I wanted to speak, wanted to tell him how much I had missed him, I struggled to make words. Eventually, I managed to whisper “Jake?”
The nurse gasped. She had never heard me speak before, not in the five years I had been in this place. Jake laughed and said “That's right, ma! Its me! I thought I'd do a little catching up.”
“I'll leave you two to it.” The nurse said, walking off and looking almost dazed.
“Why didn't you tell me you were in here, ma?” Jake asked me, sitting on the arm of my chair.
“I...I couldn't. You weren't here.” I stammered.
“What? I'm always on the other end of a phone, ma.” He replied in a trivial fashion.
“But...”
“But nothing, ma. I wrote my number down so you wouldn't forget like last time. I told you to keep it safe, my number hasn't changed.”
“Don't you remember what happened?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Did the nurses accidentally throw it out? I'll tell them to be more careful when they clean your room.”
“But Jake...the gun?”
His smile dropped. “Now why'd you go and bring something up like that, ma?” He leaned in closer to me. “Unless...are you saying that you keep a gun in your room? Huh, ma?” He joked, winking at me.
I looked past the façade.
“Why did you do it, Jake?”
“What the hell, ma? I come by to see how you're getting along – I didn't even know you were in this place – and you start talking about that? Just leave it.” He said quite forcefully, looking down at the floor afterwards.
“Of course you didn't know I was in here, Jake. You couldn't have. It happened after...you know.”
I looked into my sons eyes. He was weeping.
“Look at me, Jake.” I said, trying to keep my own voice from cracking.
“No. I can't.” He said back to me.
“Jacob Neen! You look at your mother right this instant!” I demanded in a tone I hadn't used in a long, long time. He didn't move a muscle.
“You don't know what its like, ma.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, knowing exactly what he meant but disturbed by my sons usual jovial attitude sinking into something I didn't like.
“You don't realise how sorry I am for what I did. I want to be...if I could turn back...”
I left him hanging on this last sentence. I wanted to tell him that everything was all right. That he didn't do any harm. That I still loved him because he was my boy and nothing would ever change that, but I couldn't. I knew that if I did so much as open my mouth, I would show him how weak I had become since then. It was best if he didn't know. I was an old lady, and I was trying to put up a motherly front from when I first held my son, but I was exhausted. I wanted to scream and shake him until I found out why he did it. Why he had destroyed his own life, everything he held dear, and why he made me go through that pain.
“I've got to go, ma.” He said, wiping his eyes and standing up.
I couldn't say anything.
He took a couple of steps and then stopped, half turning to me. “I won't be visiting you again, ma.”
As much as it agonised me to do so, I still couldn't say anything to him. God only knows how I wanted to at least hug him again. Pretend nothing ever happened. But it was too late for that. Just...way too late.
Jake forced a little laugh, as if to make light of the situation. It hurt him.
“Goodbye, ma. I love you.”
“Celia? Celia, its getting cold.”
I opened my eyes. It was breakfast time. A nurse was sat in front of me with a plate of scrambled eggs. The same nurse as before.
Of course. It made sense. I never had seen my son. I never got up, I never spoke, I never saw his face, nothing. I just fell asleep. Of course.
The nurse was holding a spoonful of egg when she looked at me. And I mean truly looked at me. Looked past my fixed expression and into my eyes.
She dropped the spoon onto the plate and grabbed a tissue from inside her top pocket.
“Oh my god, Celia. You're crying.”
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