Part two : side story

The little boy hung back behind the door, trying and straining to listen out for any sounds, ear pressed up against the door, listening out for floor creaks; mattress springs squeaking, drawers being opened; blankets being ruffled, curtains being rattled. But nothing. He grew anxious by the minute, hoping his mama will soon stir from her bed and make him breakfast. He had grown weary of being the only one in house, cooking and cleaning and his mother never rising and walking out of her bedroom. Stepping back he knocked on the door, pressed his ear against the door again and waited with patience for any noises to occur.

Nothing

"Mummy" He said, his voice a meek squeak in the overwhelming silence of their house, "Mummy are you awake?" With caution he opened the door with careful anticipation and peered in through the crack he had made, allowing sunlight to make a whitish blue slit of light illuminate the room, as he pushed his way through, the slit of light widened to rest on his mummy. Still swathed under the messy, ruffled blankets of the bed, she remained still like a lifeless lump, the sudden break of light doing nothing to stir her from her dreams.

With each footstep making a creak and groan against the wooden floorboards, he made his way with slow moving footsteps as if waddling in the shallow end of a swimming pool. Dread filled him, entombing him.

"Mummy you need to wake up now" He said as he approached her. Still though, she didn't move. Deciding drastic measures were needed to awake her he went to the curtains and whipped them apart, the rings scraping along the wooden pole. A harsh sound in the silent room. Hoping the morning sun would awake her, the little boy turned with hope towards his mummy but still she did not stir. Heading towards her, fear freezing his heart into a solid mass as he cried in frantic pain "Mummy, mummy you need to wake up now Mummy!" He yanked the covers away from her, revealing her in her white nightgown, her hair splayed all around in a starburst patterned halo, mouth agape and drooling and leaving a dark ,damp spot beneath her chin.

"Mum, Mum Wake Up!" He cried, her face blurring as his eyes filled with tears that stung him as they rolled down his cheeks. He climbed onto the bed and shook her shoulders, her skin cold like glass on a windowpane and her eyes rolled into the back of her head, the whites showing. Looking down he noticed something he never saw, clasped in her hands was a brass photoframe containing the photograph of his father. He took it in his hands and threw it across the room, the glass shattering and the frame cracking and splintering under the force as it collided with the wall of the room.

He hated that man! For leaving his mother and him all on their own. For making his mother ill with heartache and making her sleep this heavily and never stiring from her room. He hated him. He cried and cried till he couldn't breathe through his nose, till his throat felt like a boulder had been lodged in his airways. But out through it all, he heard the all familiar voice of his dearly beloved mother.

"Sweetheart" she said, her voice weak from fatigue "Why are you crying"

Relief shook him as he flung himself into his mother's arms. Thankful to for his mother finally waking up.