Fix You (One Direction - Louis Tomlinson)

Chapter 35: Mum?

POV: Louis

Welcomed with a cheer, Cassie and I walked into the hall filled with our friends and family. With our hands clasped above our heads like champions, we saw all the familiar faces, except one. I searched around for my mother, but she must have just been in the bathroom or something. I grabbed my shot from Harry, and Cassie grabbed hers from Lottie, and we cheered and everyone clunked their glasses together.

"To us," I said to Cassie, "to a lifetime of memories and laughs."

"To us," she repeated, a small smirk on her beautiful face, as we clunked our glasses together and gulped the burning alcohol down.

"Let's get this party started!" Harry screamed, his hands flying up into the air. I laughed at his wildness and looked at Cassie, "I'll be right back, I'm gonna go find my mom." She nodded her head in agreement as someone walked by catching her attention and they began to talk. I spun around, facing the hallway I just walked in and headed down the stairs to where the kitchen was and the bathrooms. I knew my mom was in good hands, she wasn't just roaming around by herself. An aid has watched her for awhile now. But something was still worrying me, like something deep down in my heart knew something my mind didn't. I waited outside the bathroom, expecting my mother to be coming out soon, until I heard an awful grunt coming from the kitchen. My eyebrows quivered, wrinkling my face, as I quickly jogged into the kitchen. There in front of me was my mother, and the aid, Jess. My mother was in her wheelchair, her weak hands placed on the wheels, as if she was trying to get away.

"Louis, you have to leave," Jess said to me. Pushing her hands on my chest. But my eyes were already locked on my mother, and nothing was going to stop me.

"No, that's my mother," I said sternly throwing her hands off of me. I swiftly made my way to my mother who sat in her wheelchair, eyes closed. I placed my hand on her hand. I noticed how boney and shriveled up they were, but I tried to ignore it. Her hand was cold and flinched when I intertwined my fingers with hers. She opened her eyes and looked at me, her eyebrows clenched together. She took one look at me and and inhaled hardly, I could see the fright portrayed in her eyes. Immediately, my mum quickly escaped her hand from mine, leaving me empty. With her hand pulled with her own she looks at me, starting at my eyes down to my feet and begins to speak.

"Who are you?" She started. "And why were you holding my hand?"