PROJECT NIRVANA | ONC2020 ✔️

Chapter 11.

My mother staggered into the room and slumped unto the bed beside me. She stared up at the ceiling, her gaze averted from me as if she were lost inside her own world. Sweat stuck loose baby-hairs to her clammy skin, causing her to look sickly.

I wanted to prod her for more information, but felt as if something was holding me back. I knew it was probably fear, but I was frozen, stuck in place, despite my resolution to overcome anything and everything. I was stronger than I was in the past, but old doubts kept popping up, hindering me from asserting control over the situation.

Before I could make up my mind, my mother spoke, her voice rising barely above a whisper. I had to lean close to hear what she said.

"I know who killed your father." Her hand trembled and it looked like she was about to tear-up. "It's Elaine. Elaine did it."

"Who's Elaine?" I asked, leaning closer to hear her words.

"Jason's mom," she breathed. "Elaine is Jason's mom."

Then she closed her eyes, her body growing still and her chest rising up and down with each uneven breath. It was about time that she passed out from all that drinking. I lifted her up and took her out to the hall, supporting her to where I assumed was my parents' bedroom.

The room shabby was bare except for a vanity table, a large closet, and a wide queen-sized mattress. My parents' wedding picture hung on the wall above the vanity, their smiling faces alluding to happier times. Times before tears, pain, and alcohol. Before I had wanted to lock myself in the imaginary world of Nirvana.

I laid my mother on the bed, tucking the blanket around her and making sure that she was comfortable. I made sure to turn her on her side in case she threw up in the middle of the night, then took a step back to get a good look at her. I didn't know when this dream would end, so I decided to cherish this moment and store it in my memories for whatever was to come.

"Mom," I said softly, before switching off the light. "Goodnight."

I returned to my room and reached for what I assumed to be my cell-phone. A picture of Avron and I sitting together on a park bench lay inside the case. But for a moment, I hesitated.

If this was just a dream, was it possible for me to contact him and for us to speak with each other? And if I spoke to him, did he know that his mother had murdered my father? I glanced out the hallway, at the room where my mother was fast asleep.

Was she even telling the truth? How could I know I could trust her? What if this was just a side effect of her drunkenness? Then what would I do?

I took a deep breath and grabbed the phone, scrolling through the contacts until I landed on 'Jason<3'. I clicked the call button and waited for him to speak. It was then that I looked at my hand to find that it was shaking. I didn't know what I would say if he answered.

A moment later, I heard the sound of Avron's familiar voice.

"Hello? Felicity?"

"Avron, It's me," I said.

"I was just about to call you," he replied.

"Can you come?" I asked. "There's something I need to tell you."

"I'm on my way," said Avron. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

We ended the call and I set down my phone, burying myself inside the blanket on my bed. But strangely, I felt claustrophobic as if everything was closing in on me. I swung out of bed and went downstairs. Being alone with my thoughts might drive me crazy; it was better to look around the house while waiting for him.

I inspected the kitchen and its antique black and white tiles. Chipped china and plastic cups lay on a drying rack beside equally shoddy utensils. Old magazines and newspapers had been stacked on the dining table which had been made from intricately carved wood. The table seemed to be the only thing that was of value in the kitchen. It looked out of place.

For a moment, I remembered my house in Nirvana, the expensive furniture, the lavishly decorated rooms. And also, my mom, dad, and Charlie. My heart ached from the thought of them, but instantly I felt guilty. They weren't my real family. My real mom was. And I had left her all alone.

A knock on the door alerted me to Avron's arrival and I went over to welcome him inside. It had been raining, so water dripped from his hair and unto his shirt. His face was the only familiar face in this foreign world.

Despite the gravity of the situation and my fear of what was to come, I found myself growing comforted by his presence. He stood in the middle of the living room, water dripping off him and unto the matted carpet.

"Is it okay for me to sit?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Let me just get you a towel."

I went upstairs to the bathroom and returned with a spare towel which he used to dry his face and hair. I sat across from him, unsure of what to say. I didn't want to offend him or make things awkward between us. I wasn't exactly sure how to define our relationship, but I knew that I enjoyed having him beside me. I didn't want to lose what we had.

"You don't have to look at me like that," Avron said, and I realized that I had been staring at him. "I already know what you want to talk about," he continued.

"What do you think i want to talk about?" I asked. Had his mother told him something?

Avron stopped drying his hair and paused for a second. "You want to talk about how my mother killed your father."