voodoo doll // c.hood

33; change of mind

A M I T Y

You could hear a pin drop, the air felt thick and the tension between my mother and I could be cut with a knife. Mum came back from the hospital about three days ago and she hasn't uttered a word, not to me, herself and not at the television screen when her team is losing. She has been moping around the house every day since she has left the hospital.

I don't know if it's because she's still mad at me or not. I was just trying to help and I think it would be good for her. I want her to be happy, not shuffling around the house like some sort of slug all day and every day. The doctor even recommended it! I mean it's not the first time she been to hospital and nearly overdosed. I just think she needs that little push to get back up on her feet.

The pamphlets the doctor gave mum were scattered across the breakfast island in the kitchen, and have been there untouched since Mum came home. Maybe I should have a flick through them, just to see if they are all that bad.

Well first off, there are a lot of photographs of very happy people through out each pamphlet. The rooms aren't too shabby, they look just like low-budget hotel rooms. Hell, I want to go to rehab. It looks just like a holiday but with a few prescription drugs and appointments with psychologists.

The scraping of slippers across the kitchen floor draw my attention. It's mum, she's searching through every shelf in the fridge trying to find some thing to snack on. She looks over at me and sees the pamphlets in my hand, resulting in rolling her eyes before returning to her food.

I should say something, I need to say something. What do I say? It would be the first word spoken in the house for three days so it better be good. And convincing.

"Heated pools huh?"

That's it. That's the first words shared between my mother and I. She responds by ignoring me and proceeding to make a ham sandwich. I need to say something that will give her the right impression and convince her.

"Oooh, three and a half star quality food. And your own bathroom."

"Amity, stop. Nothing in those things are going to persuade me to go." She says in an unimpressed, quiet and low voice.

Soon, silence falls upon us again. I can't stop here, I need to finish what I've started. I don't want to leave until I have got her thinking about the idea of going.

"I don't understand how you have made up your mind when you don't even know anything about these facilities."

"Oh I know enough about them." She ensures me.

"Then please, enlighten me. Tell me all that you know about rehab." I cross my arms and wait for her to speak.

Mum hesitates before sighing and giving me an answer.

"Fine. I've heard they are just like prison with a few added activities. The people in there are depressed and unhappy and just want to get back to their lives but can't leave. They are basically locked away like criminals."

"Mum, how would you even know that? Sitcoms and rumours? The purpose of a rehabilitation centre is to help you. Break a bad habit and get you back onto the right track. The other people there are in the same boat as you. They are destroying their future and their lives over drugs and addictions." The words which leave my mouth cause Mum to start tearing up. "Heck, there may even be another woman who is an alcoholic and also has a teenaged child with a low paying job and has been mistreated by men."

My mother refuses to speak another word. I can see her trying to force back the tears as I point out her obvious flaws.

"And you could be just like them, trying to get your life back on track."