delirium (sequel to apathy)

23

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"So you're telling me, that Martin had an epiphany, or some shit, and decided to offer his help, to make things right between us? Bullshit."

"Daddy, I don't think he's the same person from years ago..he's changed," Mom bit her lip, sitting down at the table. Ramiro sat down next to her, while I stood up, each of us watching Grandpa pace back and forth, his fists balled.

"Monae, we can't trust Martin. After all the fucked up shit he's done to you, you want us to trust him? What if he's what we should distance ourselves from?"

"But you can see it in his eyes. I feel that we can trust him, he's already helped Amir out, he just needs to prove himself," Mom argued.

Personally, I was indifferent. Mom had a convincing argument, but Grandpa did too. I wanted to side with Mom because she's never lead me wrong, and I trust her decisions, but what if Martin didn't really change? What if he simply sent Avery to help me out to cloud our judgement. But, I was sitting right there during the conversation, nothing seemed off with Martin..to me, he seemed completely genuine.

But still, you never know.

Martin could help me out for a certain interval but could turn around and bring me right to my death. But I had a good feeling about this, so far. Martin seemed remorseful for what he's done, and I don't think he would want to fuck himself over. He has a son to look after, and it's not hard to tell that he wants the absolute best for him.

"Alright," Grandpa sighed, "alright. I'm going to take your word for this, Monae. If he even fucks up in the slightest way, I'm going to deal with him myself. Understood? I'm going to send for him, I want to keep an eye on him."

Mom nodded, sighing. She looked towards me, pulling me over to her by my wrist. I helped her get out of the chair, and she kissed my temple. "Come on, walk with me." We left out of the dining area, Mom linking arms with me. We walked through the house, coming outside to the backyard. There was a table by the pool, where I helped her into a chair. For a while, she just looked at me, a soft smile on her face.

"You know, you look just like your father," she told me, "you act just like him too."

I looked down, and she rubbed my hand. "The doctor's said he's doing well, still, they can't determine when he'll be waking up."

Looking into her eyes, I sighed. I could tell she was just saying that to make me feel better. Dad's been in that coma for almost five months now, and even though she kept saying he was going to wake up any day, I knew she doubted that he ever would. I was beginning to lose hope to, even if I didn't say anything about it.

"You don't have to say it if you don't believe it, Ma," I said to her.

She frowned, squeezing my hand.

"I know you don't think he's ever going to wake up. He's been in a coma for almost five months!"

"Amir, people have been in comas for years and they've woken up."

I shook my head, standing up. "Don't tell me that bullshit Mom! Stop trying to look happy for me! You don't believe Dad is going to wake up, and I don't either!"

"Amir.."

"I'm eighteen, Mom. You don't have to treat me like I'm eight! I know you don't want to see me hurt, but I can clearly see the shit that's going on around us! You can't shield me from everything."

She stared at me, a sad look in her eyes. "See, there you go, talking just like your father."

"Mom stop-"