Alpha Logan

TEN: disappear

Bella:

My first memory of my mother's drinking dates back to an innocent age. I was eleven years old, sitting in her bedroom waiting for her to braid my hair.

It was a tradition on Sunday nights for school, our little bonding time to actually sit with each other and talk about vague memories. It was maybe the only time my mother and I got together without one of my siblings interrupting.

I brushed my damp hair and turned my head to look at her. Age had gotten the best of her these past few years, but I couldn't have been more blessed to have a mother like her. She was everything I wanted to be at the time.

My mother gently grasped the hairbrush from my fingers and began to take over the mindless job of brushing my hair. It was a comforting feeling, finally being tended to.

My mother brushed and brushed the long strands of my hair before resting the midsection of my hair. "You're so beautiful, I'll love you forever."

Indistinctly, it made me roll my eyes. I was at that age where any compliments or commentary from my mother had me nearly gagging. "Mom, can you just braid my hair? I have to review my math study guide before my quiz tomorrow."

My mother began to brush through my hair once more, finally sectioning my hair into parts and began the process of braiding. I couldn't help but notice how agonizingly slow she was going, always pausing to take a sip of water. Her shaky hands became a plausible way to stop her from continuing more.

I held onto the section that my mother was working on while she got up once more to reach for her water.

"Are you okay, mom?" I glanced over to her face and I saw her squint an eye shut. It appeared as though she was trying to catch her eyesight from doubling over.

She gasped in a breath of air, overly dramatic, and swayed a bit. "Yeah, I just need a minute."

I held on to my hair and examined her carefully. It was like the woman I knew was disappearing. She was riddling away into a different, distant version of herself and I couldn't stop it. It was the first time I saw her crack like the light was seeping out from her eyes. She was losing the aspect of her that made her my mother. It was an agonizing pain in my side I chose to ignore. She was everything I looked up to and more, and at the time I thought she was going to be around forever. It was an easier thought that way.

The ice cubes in her water clinked to her glass as she twirled the clear liquid. She stared at it for a bit, wondering if the next sip was worth it or not. "Don't you ever fall in love, you hear me? It'll fucking ruin your life."

I was too stunned to respond so I dropped my hands to my lap, letting go of my half-braided hair. I felt the tight pattern unwrap against my hair, and I just stared at my mother. "We can just braid it tomorrow, mom. I'm really tired anyways." I rushed to stand on my feet, forgetting about my silly damp hair.

She slammed the drink down once more, and with a shaky breath, she began to cry. "I love him, you know? And he won't even look at me!" She cried out, her raspy voice breaking free.

And like any normal eleven-year-old, I left. It is maybe one of the hardest things in my past to come to terms with. It haunts me in my sleep, keeps me up at night knowing that if maybe I said something that early on maybe she wouldn't have drunk so much. Maybe she'd still be here and my family would still have a mother, but selfishly I fled the scene. I didn't know how to react to my mother confiding in me, as I was usually the one confiding in her.

Her words that night crept up on me in ways I can't imagine.

Love.

It only causes pain and hurt. Sorrow and regret.