Mystery Child

Chapter One

The fluorescent lights of the hospital room burned my eyes as I slowly awoke. The constant beeping of monitors was like music to my ears. She was still here, my mom lived through another day.

Slowly sitting up my stiff muscles groaned in disagreement. Sleeping in a hospital recliner was not the best thing for your body but I had little choice. My senses came to me as I became more awake and I took in my surroundings.

 The hospital room was extremely familiar because it had become my home in the past three months. The walls were painted a dull yellow color that had faded over the many years. A small ancient TV that played all of three channels was mounted in the corner. Strange hospital equipment was strung around the hospital bed that held my mother.

   

When I was young my mother was beautiful. She had long brown hair that flowed around her framing her face perfectly. She had pale skin that could almost reflect light if it hit in in just the right way. The most important thing was her deep brown eyes, probably one of her best attributes.

  Now her hair is long gone and has been replaced with a grey scarf to cover her bald head. Her skin was now translucent, showing off almost the entirety of her skeleton. The only thing that remains of who she used to be was her eyes. They were still beautiful. She was still asleep, curled onto her side almost in a ball. Her face was scrunched uptight and her fist clenched her blanket. She was having a nightmare.

My mother has had nightmares my whole life. She used to have them every night, but they have slowed since now she is on meds to help her sleep. I remember when I was young I would wake up every night to my mother screaming from her nightmares. That was then I would get up from my bed and go into her room and crawl into bed with her. This would wake her up enough to stop the screaming and then she would hold me to her chest. I used to tell her that I crawled into bed with her because I had been scared, but she always knew the real reason.

Standing up I leaned over her and rubbed her arm slightly stirring her. 

“Mom, it’s time to wake up.” My voice was hoarse and unpleasant. My head spun and I felt myself bracing myself on the handrail of the bed.

Her eyes shot open and her hand grabbed mine as she woke up. Her heartbeat was racing and her hand gripped me tightly.

“Mom?” I said soothingly my voice returning to normal; my spout of dizziness being forgotten. “It’s alright, it was just a nightmare.” My other hand came up and rubbed her shoulder lightly. At this, her hand loosened on mine as her whole body relaxed.

Slowly adjusted her pillow and sat up. I handed her a cup of water that was left on her bedside table. She took it from me and gulped greedily.

“Thank you, darling.” She said as a shaky hand moved to set the cup down on the table beside her. “How did you sleep? You know I don’t like you sleeping in that chair.” A small smile crept across my face and I released a small laugh. She was dying and yet still found the energy to worry about me.

“I slept fine mama, I don’t mind the chair. Besides I’m not going to leave you here overnight.” The words were so common I found myself saying them without really thinking. Since she was moved into the hospital permanently three months ago I have spent almost every moment by her side other than the few times I went back to our house to grab a change of clothes and to collect our mail or to go into the forest and feed to maintain my humanity.

She grimaced at my words and her eyes continued to look over me taking me in. Eventually, she stops and looks at me in my eyes. Her brows furrow a bit and she looked over to my hand that was once again gripping her bedside, steading me. She reached out once again and grabbed my arm seeing how cold my skin had turned.