GAMMA
When I got home my mother was burning the spam mail in the fireplace. It was a habit she'd had since I was thirteen. Today I was thankful that her condition was so severe that she wouldn't notice how sad and stressed I was. At least she could live peacefully in Boozeland while I fixed my life and dealt with my situation. Izzy greeted me by purring between in my legs. I picked her up and petted her on my way to the kitchen. Mom had dinner ready. Nothing big, just some boiled potatoes and saute chicken. A few times a week she was lucid enough to cook for us. Cooking relaxed her, not as much as drinking, sadly. I sat in the tiny kitchen with my cat in my lap.
"How was your day?" She said adding too much salt to her food. "Mom." I said looking at her hand with the shaker on it.
"I know too much salt...blood pressure...blah blah blah." She let go of it and started eating. She liked salt too much and the doctor told her to cut it down. It was about the only thing she agreed to stop doing once I begged her. The doctor and I naturally told her the same about her drinking, but...
"One of two vices trying to control is not that bad, there is still hope."
"Normal day; school, work, nothing interesting." "Any dates?"
"Not yet"
She sighed. We both finished dinner. I was my turn to do the dishes so I cleared out the table and started to load the dishwasher. She took another glass of wine and left for her room. When I finished I took some ranitidine pills and changed into my pajamas. Staying angry all day had worn me out, and I was too tired to think. I went to say goodnight to my mother. Gave her a kiss on the forehead, and then headed back to my room.
I had the nightmare again that night.
The faceless man was so big that he could hold me by the arms. His body was painted with many bright colors. His face had no eyes, ears or nose but it had the mouth. It was a big, scary mouth filling his whole head. It had a mad expression that made me cry, but then he shrieked like it was in pain. His big mouth smiled menacingly. His dark hand took a piece of his body, like he was ripping it apart. It changed from the colorful pattern to what looked like a white sugar package. He forced it down my throat. It was not sweet, but bitter, so bitter. I felt it crawling inside me, tearing apart my guts, blood coming out of my mouth, chocking me with the salty taste...
I woke up in the middle of the night when my mother's hand was touching my forehead.
"You had the nightmare again?" She asked patiently. I was probably screaming in my dreams like I did every time I had this oniric ghost visiting me. She always was with me when I had that dream, no matter how sad or drunk.
"Yes. It's been a while."
"Yes." She only said. I welcomed the affection and kissed her hand
"I'm going to be okay, please go back to your room." She nodded and left, stumbling as usual.
"Her hand smelled like Whiskey."
The next day I not only woke up with a headache, but also with an effective plan. I'd pick my worst subject and whatever expectations William had of me would surely disappear at my supposed incompetence. It pricked my pride to make him think I was not as smart as I looked, but there was no other way around it.
Preparing to leave for our meeting, I dressed in all black. It was a personal joke about what I was about to do.
"The death of our intellect."
I made sure to leave breakfast for mom. I checked on her before I headed out the door. Just like most nights, she had fallen asleep while watching reality shows. Now the TV was showing a generic white guy wearing a suit and announcing: "I became a food addict for my dog!"
As he said the catch-line,