The Girl with No Emotions

33: HIM

HIM

January 9, 2016

"Wow," I said.

"Wow!"

"Right?"

"That was so, so bad," my mom said.

"Mom. I am so sorry."

"It's okay, son. You will be treating me to dinner to make up for that horrible movie."

"Yes, I will."

"What time is it?" My mom asked.

"Lemme check." I took out my phone and remembered I had turned it off. "I forgot I turned it off. Let me turn it on."

"I could just check my phone," my mom said.

"Or you can do that." I laughed to myself.

We walked to the car and got in. I sat there waiting for my phone to open so I knew what time it was. I lost track of time in that movie. I felt like we were in there forever. I needed to make sure it was still the same day.

"Woah, she called me like five times."

"Who? Your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she left a voicemail." I listened to it.

"I hope everything is okay."

My mom's voice got swallowed up into the vast black hole that was the world around me. And all I focused on was the soft voice on the other end. This can't be happening. Her voice. Her voice. This can't. No.

"What's wrong?"

"I have to go." I dropped my phone from my hands from being so shaky.

"Where? Now?"

"I have to go." I just shook my head. "Mom, I am so sorry, but I have to go. I need to drop you off at the house now."

"Ok, ok. That's fine. What's going on?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

"Son, breathe."

"I am breathing. It's just shallow," I said slowly.

"Ok, what did she say?"

"Not. Much."

"Ok, I can tell you're a little worried—."

"A little?" I didn't know why that agitated me. It wasn't like she knew what was going on. I barely knew. All I had was an idea. And I didn't like that idea.

"You know what? I am just going stop talking."

I didn't say anything. I knew I should had a least told my mom that everything was okay and thank her for trying but I couldn't. All I was worried about was her.

"I am sorry, mom. My mind is just not all there right now."

"It's okay," She didn't sound like she meant it. She sounded annoyed and irritated and sad. And I didn't know how to make her feel better. All I was thinking about her. The rest of the car ride was full of anxiety and impatience and silence. I pulled up to our house and I let my mom out.

"I hope everything will be ok. Call me if you need anything," she said.

"Thanks mom." She closed the door and I rushed off. All I was worried about was her. All I was worried about was her.