Monophobia [DNF]

Chapter 2: Dear mom

It was close to five pm which meant time to close. George did a quick calculation. His mom should be home by now and would soon be wasted. His mom was a kind woman, at least when she didn't drink, which she unfortunately did at every given opportunity.

To avoid the hurtful treatment that she would put him through when drunk, George usually waited about two hours after his shift ended to go home. The café offered their employees to bring the leftover food from each shift with them, so that was normally George's dinner.

The café was at a walking distance from his house, which was a blessing. Another perk of the café's location was the closeness to the sea. Just a few minutes of walking and steep outcrops that plundered into the ocean became visible. It was one of George's favorite spots. The salty breeze combined with the sound of waves colliding with rocks had a calming effect on his mind.

He sat down and took out a slightly soggy chicken wrap from his bag and took a bite. The sight of the waves was almost hypnotic. Laughter pulled his gaze further away. Two undistinguished figures were running into the sea from a beach that was located close by. He pulled up his phone, no new notifications. He sighed; it wasn't much of a surprise, but it still hurt. Half past six, time had passed by quickly. So, after finishing dinner, George got up and headed home.

Well home, the sad sight of his mom passed out on the sofa was what he was met with. There was a good amount of dirty dishes and even though George wanted nothing more than to sleep, the nasty sight made him change his mind. 

His mom's slow breathing was heard from behind his back. George had this haunting feeling that something about was wrong and as he turned around, he found a medical bottle and two nasal sprays, both prescribed to his mom. 

His heart leaped when he read the name on the bottle: Vicodin. George's knowledge about medicine was probably higher than most people due to histories from his mom's job. Still, they were far from as profound as he wished they were in that moment.

He sprinted towards the sofa. The nasal spray was called Nyxoid and George had heard his mom mentioning it before. If he remembered correctly, then it could be used to ease the effects of opiates.

"Mom!" He shouted but without receiving a response

He tried shaking her, but it only resulted in annoyed mumbling. He gave her the nasal spray and debated whenever to call the ambulance or not. She would be furious if he did, but if he didn't then she might not make it. Out of fear of angering her, George chose to rule out the option of taking her to the hospital. 

Instead he sat down by the sofa and concluded that he would've to stay by her side tonight to make sure that she wasn't getting worse. 

Her breathing was thankfully rather even and after a few hours. Yet, he decided to stay there for the rest of the night, just in case. He put an alarm and slept in shifts to make sure that she stayed breathing. 

A few tears left his eyes. Both his parents were addicts but to different things. Guilt was a feeling that George had gotten used to. When his mom was drunk, she would make sure that George knew that it was his fault that she drank and that his dad had flipped.

He had never been ashamed of his sexuality but kept it hidden from the world. When the secret got out in England, his dad became aggressive. Somehow, deep down, George knew that it was the addiction talking and his dad was a rather unstable individual. 

But how could having a gay son be the last thing hindering someone from becoming abusive?

George never understood why it was such a big deal, but his dad's reaction had caused him to stay closeted when they got to America.