I Drew You Once in Art Class

Twenty-One

Vomit.

Gerard hated vomit.

Vomit was probably up there with his biggest fears, along with planes and balloons. Yes, balloons. Shut up.

Unfortunately, vomit was something he'd dealt with a lot today, even though the very thought of vomit made him pale. He refilled a glass of water under the sink, an Advil in his other hand. He walked over to the living room, bracing himself for the sour smell of stomach acid that now coated the bottom of a trash can by the couch. He knelt in front of the person laying on the couch, weary-eyed and pale. He held out the water and the Advil. "Here, mom."

Gerard's mother looked at him, her bloodshot brown eyes staring directly into his own before she leaned down and vomited into the trash can again. Gerard flinched and recoiled, trying to get as far from the bucket of tan liquid as possible. 

She was in bad shape. Her hair was thinning at the roots, and her skin was pale and yellowish. Her eyes sagged in her skin, bloodshot and drained. You could barely see the woman that Gerard knew her as. She was more recognizable as the Hunchback of Notre Dam at this point.

She looked years older than she was. Which really sucked.

She wiped her mouth with her pale, discolored hand and looked at Gerard again. "Thank you. I swear, this was the last time. It won't happen again, I promise, baby. I'm gonna be better."

As much as Gerard wanted this to be true, he knew it wasn't.

Sighing, he picked up the trash can of vomit, taking great care to not look at it or smell it or listen to it sloshing around in the bottom of the plastic bucket, rinsing it out into the sink, mentally preparing himself for when he'd have to do it again.