Forever Asleep

The frigid wind rushed against Oliver's face, bringing a sharp pain to his nose and ears, the rain drenching his hair. His facial expression exuded discomfort. Oliver grimaced as he tried to walk the last few streets to get back to his home.

This day just couldn't get any worse, he thought, It's been absolutely terrible. I barely made it through yesterday. I keep telling myself not to snap, but it gets harder each day.

Picking up the pace, Oliver began to jog towards his house in a very awkward motion; his baggy eyes displaying his severe exhaustion. As he came closer to his home, he tripped over a small pothole and fell flat on his face right into the muddy grass. Oliver lifted himself from the sticky, moist mud, his face drenched in the dark brown sludge. Deflated, he trudged along, his hands attempting to wipe off the mud, only to smear it even more.

Oliver stood before his house's front door, staring down at the welcome mat. The mat had a simple drawing of three people with names over their heads. On the left side was a drawing of a woman with the word 'Mommy' over her head. On the right was a man in a business suit with the word 'Daddy' written over his head. In the middle was a short child with 'Oliver' written on top.

He smiled, remembering the good times when he was five years old. Oliver spoke aloud to himself, "I was such a happy boy back then. If only little Oliver knew what was to come."

He looked back up to his door, shaking his head.

"I need to stop thinking about the past. It's not like I can go back."

His hand went into his pocket, wriggling around to find the key. The key was hidden beneath many pencils and crumpled worksheets. He stood there awkwardly for a minute with no luck in finding it. Just as he was about to give up, his fingers felt the familiar cold metal, and he pulled the key out of his pocket.

Hands shaking, he pushed it into the lock. The lock creaked and squealed as the key went in, and when Oliver twisted it, there was a click. Oliver used his entire body to push against the door, and the old thing finally gave, letting him in.

Oliver's eyes bolted to his right. At the dinner table, the plush stuffed bear was still sitting in the far left seat, with no sign of being moved. Oliver let out a deep sigh, disappointed, but he hadn't expected anything different.

He let some of his anger,

"Jesus Oliver, it's been at least eight years since you've last seen that man. For all you know, he could have changed his identity and started a new life!"

Oliver thought back about what he remembered about his father. He sure was an intriguing person. His father was an incredibly successful businessman who traveled across the world for work-related affairs. Though he was usually gone, Oliver knew his father always cared for him and his mother, even sending in monthly checks for them to pay off their living expenses. When his mother became incredibly ill, it was his father who upped the payments so that they had enough to pay the medical bills. But one day, the money stopped coming in, with no reason as to why. Oliver had many speculations, but he never knew the truth. Perhaps his father had been arrested somewhere. Maybe he died. It was all an incredibly confusing mystery. What happened didn't matter anymore. His father was gone forever.

Oliver found himself stuck, staring at the teddy bear for an excessively long time. As he gazed longingly at the bear, he noticed the amount of dust built up on the bear's fuzz, a true testament to how long it had been sitting there, untouched.

He tried to force himself away from the bear, but his legs would not give. After forcing his legs to move with a great deal of effort, he finally turned away, but this action just left him with an even greater feeling of emptiness.

Dropping his backpack onto the couch, Oliver climbed up the stairs, head facing his feet. The young man needed to relax, but there was one thing that was still plaguing his mind. He wasn't even sure about what to believe anymore. He walked into a room filled with medical equipment, and heard the familiar beeping of a heart rate monitor.

Oliver looked down at his unconscious mother's figure.

"Mother, I know you can't hear me, but I just want to let you know I'm trying my best to keep everything running normally, but it gets more difficult each day."

A tear fell out of his eye.

"I don't even know when you'll awaken, and the doctors won't be coming back since I can't make enough money to pay them."

Oliver paused, stroking his mother's cheek.

"I know you would want the best for me, and that I should put myself before you. After all, you always said how you were an old, useless woman, and that I was a new flower, still cultivating to change the world. You said if we were ever in desperate times, I should focus on surviving. But right now, I don't even know if surviving is the best choice. Every time I come back home, I realize how helpless our situation is, but I don't want to leave you."

His mother started breathing a little more deeply, almost as if she understood him.

He whispered, "Well, I found a solution, a compromise of sorts. It's all gonna be okay."

Oliver opened a bottle of pills and poured a couple into his palm. He flipped the switch on his mother's life support machine, hearing the slow whine of the device come to an end, and dunked the pills in his mouth. He held his mother's hand and closed his eyes.

"Let's go to sleep."

"Forever."