The Young Mother

**TW** This story contains alcohol abuse, suicide, and mental health issues

A young mother stood in her kitchen of her and her son's house. A house she worked her ass off for. All the late night had payed off when she was about to get this little house they call home. 

"Mommy" called out a little boy sitting in another room then his mother. 

The young women known as "mommy" was spreading peanut butter on some bread to make a pb and j for her little boy. "One second baby. I'm getting your lunch." she said in response. 

"mommy" the boy called out once again this time louder and angrier. 

As the boy's mom finished making his lunch, she hollered " Baby, come get your food". Setting the food on the counter, she waited for him to come get his food. When he didn't it alarmed her, causing her to move toward the room the little boy was in.  

"Mommy" the boy screamed. His voiced sounded disoriented and angry. This caused the young mom to move faster to the room, only to find a empty room. 

"Mommy" yelled the little boy screeching at her. She couldn't see him. She couldn't fine him. He was just here. Where was his voice coming from?

"Baby, where are you? Come back to mommy please." She cried out in desperation running to the other side of the room where the voice sounded from. 

"Mommy, you have to let me go." screamed her little boy. No, this wasn't her little boy. The voice was too scratchy and cruel. The voice sounded from all around her causing panic to fastly rise in her. 

"Baby, baby where are you? Let you go? What are you talking baby. Come back to mommy. I love you" she pleaded out in to the air. Where was her baby she thought. He precious little boy. 

"Mommy, let me go" screamed the voiced disguised as her baby. This voice was a cry above demonic. Repeating these words over and over, followed by streaks and cries.  

This pushes the women over her edge, the screaming and cries disorienting her. She moves her hands to cover her ears to help block out the sounds. "Shut up! Shut up!" she finally screamed out when the cries and yells continued. 

"Ahhhh!" the young women yelled as she awoke in her bed. Her hand finding its way to her heart, feeling the steady beat. Breath, she told herself, it was only a dream. 

After calming down her heart beat and breathing she moved her head to look at the picture on her nightstand. They were of her and her little boy. She lived these pictures. One was them at the zoo by the brown bear cage and the other was at the beach. She smiled, then moved to look at the sunlight that shined through the window. It calmed her slightly more to see the rays.Should she go wake her son up yet she questioned to herself. She nodded her head and decided to wake him up. 

Moving out of her bed, she moved towards the door of her room. Making the way down the hall to his room. She opened his door to find him not there and a perfectly clean room. A made bed, no toy out of place, an organized closet. She was confused at first, then it hit her. The grief grabbing her heart and squeezing, flipping her inside all around, while clouding her mind. 

He was gone. Never to come back to her. She would never her his laugh or make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She would never but home to bed again. Never kiss his head as he went to sleep.

  Falling to her knees, she began to sob. This is what the dream had meant. She needed to let go of him, but she didn't want to. He was her baby after all. So, instead of doing anything else she sat on the floor and cried. She cried till she couldn't anymore cause she would never get to have her little boy back.

Waking up on the floor with tear stained cheeks. She looked around confused. Why was she on the floor? Pulling her hand up to her face she felt the tear streaks left over from crying. She must have passed out when she was crying. 

Pulling herself off the floor, she walked to the door of the room without looking around. If she had should would have started crying all over again. Opening the door, she took a deep breath and walked out sighing as she shut the door. 

Walking to the kitchen she realized how hungry she actually was. She looked around to find something to eat. She had found eggs and bacon. Her son's favorite. Nodding to herself, yes she would make eggs and bacon. 

Making the foood wasn't hard as she had practiced it a million times before. Making enough for her and him, she set up there places at the table and going as far as to set out drinks for the two of them. Orange juice for her and champagne milk for him. 

She made her way to her son's room only to remember that he was gone. Stopping dead in her tracks. She couldn't believe she forgot again. How does she keep doing this? 

Going back to the table she sat at her chair looking solemn at her plate. She push and prodded at her food suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. 

He was gone. She would never eat breakfast with her baby again. She would never make him eggs with bacon and chocolate milk. How could she keep forgetting. How stupid and pathetic of her she thought. 

Snapping out of her trance as she felt a liquid run down her chin. Rising her hand to her face to find tears running down her face. Tears. Why did she have to cry all the time she thought. Why was she so weak. Not only does she cry all the time but she forgets that her some is dead. 

Wiping away the tears she looks up to spot a bottle of vodka on one of her shelves. Why not she thought to herself. It's not like she has anything else to lose. 

Grabbing the bottle and moving to the couch she started to drink. She drunk until she couldn't feel anymore. She drunk till she couldn't remember anything. As that mother took that's last sip, she layed down in the couch passing out. She took one last breath before the alcohol slowed down her breathing. She passed with a smile on her face and the thought of seeing her son again.