Silent Midnight

Chapter 4

I somehow wobbled to my room and was thrust under the shower to wash off all the blood and wounds before Paris could tend to them.

Under the steaming hot water, all my memories with mom played out.

When she forced me to help bake cookies and how grumpy I'd become only to be in a giggling fit 10 minutes in with mom tickling me and dough all over the countertop.

When we'd go shopping and she'd be super excited passing me a better dress each time until I found whichever ones I actually liked.

When she'd wake up in the middle of the night and make me hot chocolate cause she knew I couldn't sleep, without me even telling her.

How she'd come hold me and let me cry whenever I thought of him.

I remember just last week, one of her ex-patients-now recovered, had her graduation and she thanked mom in her speech for helping her out through her troubles. Mom then turned to me, telling me about how one day I would be up there, and she would be cheering for me.

She said she was waiting for when I would go to prom. And how she would get me the best dress and she couldn't wait to take pictures.

Our weekly Friday movie nights. Tears welled up at this memory because I couldn't remember the last time we had one. Perhaps two years ago. I remember after moving into this house, mom would often ask me if I wanted to have a movie night. It was our mother daughter time, even if we were already alone.

We'd makes jokes and criticize the movie. Prepare all the stuff to eat about an hour before, to the point that it looked like we were having a feast.

But almost every time, I denied and whenever I agreed, I barely paid attention. I regret wasting all that time I could've spent with her but chose not too.

I remember her taking me to the hospital on some Saturdays when the only work she had to was make reports and analysis, and she'd show some medical machines and what they were about when she was done.

She'd secretly open my room door and sneakily throw in balloons on my birthday eve so she could surprise me first thing in the morning. And then I remembered how I didn't cherish my last two birthdays with her when all she tried to do was help me forget things for a while.

But now, she wasn't here anymore. And she wasn't going to be for Prom, for graduation, for birthdays, for anything else. I wondered if I ever made her feel unappreciated and the thought that I might've just caused me to sob even harder.

By the time I got out of the shower, I could hear people talking again. So I went downstairs and saw Paris talking to another woman. When they both saw me, Paris called me closer and told me that Étienne called to say that the hospital already issued mom's death certificate.

They tried reviving her in the ambulance but they couldn't. He was now out preparing for the funeral tomorrow morning. I nodded numbly to everything, a part of me just knew the moment she took her last breath in that state, she wasn't going to come back. Then she introduced me to the woman sitting next to her. She looked hispanic, in her late twenties.

"Amora, this is Julieta." Then she turned to me, slowly saying the next words. "Your social worker."

My eyes widened in surprise and I looked at Julieta before turning back to Paris. "Social worker?"

"Yes, now that your mother is no more, which I'm very sorry about." Julieta said, "I have to look for your remaining family if you have any to see if they want to take you in. If not then I have to look for a foster home."

And it hits me. I'm officially an orphan now.

"But Paris told me about your father." And my head snapped to Paris so quick, I probably surprised the air around me. She actually took the initiative to unite me with my dad. For a moment I questioned if she'd known about him from before or she came to know about him when mom mentioned him to me earlier.