LIAM
Someone is holding my hand.
I must have fallen asleep because my hands are crossed, and I am lying on the bed, still seated in the chair.
Fingers slowly pat my head and I open my eyes, to find my mother looking at me. She is still hooked with some tubes, but color is starting to appear on her features.
Her chapped lips stretch to a small smile and I smile back, not wanting to look away or move. I never thought I would be here, with her like this.
After going so many years believing she hated me, I am still a mess not knowing what to think, or what to believe anymore.
But that's not important right now. I only want to know she is okay.
She must have been in pain to want to end it all. To be honest, I am scared shitless because I don't know if she will do that again, why she did it, to begin with, and how I can help her.