Midnight Living Room

This story contains elements of Mental health, Substance abuse, and Physical violence.

The kettle hisses in the dim light of the kitchen. I swiftly pour the steaming liquid into the cups, hurrying because I have a date with a ghost. I am certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that ghosts are real. I am not mad. From a young age, I have been able to see the dead. My grandmother. She perished when I was very young from complications of the heart, they had told me, but I am sure she died from a broken one. My mother broke her heart. She had stopped loving grandma instead; she chased her own demons, ones that came from a little glass vial, and soon she stopped loving me too, but that didn’t break my heart. No, I don’t think I ever loved my mother. Instead, it made my heart stone. I became strong. After that, the only person I ever needed was grandmother.

When I entered the living room with my two cups of tea, my mother, Ann, was lying in Grandmother’s rocking chair. Her legs spread, one flopped over the armrest while the other pushed against the floor, gently rocking her. She chuckled. Ignoring the gash on her cheek still bleeding. “I want the living room,” I demand. “Out.”

Ann rolled her head from one shoulder to the other, tossing her thick blonde hair back and forth. “Isn’t it time for the kiddies to be in their bed?” she answers, leaning a bit forward. Rocking harder now.

I suck in my cheeks and set the cups down. There are ten minutes until midnight, which leaves me with a few moments before my grandmother arrives for our daily chats. I won’t have her ruin another day. I reached out, firmly gripping her wrist. “Come on,” I say, tugging up, and she came down hard and fast, with a strength I could have expected from a man twice her size, but her power came from that vial. It hurt. I was used to the pain. I stumble backwards into the coffee table, catching myself just in time before crashing down right on top of it. I blink, finding my balance.

“Ann, you’re high.”

She laughed, “You really should be asleep. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“Mom, can you just please leave?”

“Mom-mom-mom.” She repeated, mocking me.

I rolled my eyes, catching the clock behind her. Nine minutes till midnight. My head ached more than the pain in my shoulder. Ann couldn’t stop grinning, her yellow teeth a beacon of insanity. With each moment, the drugs took over her mind, making her laugh and giggle as she rocked faster in the chair. It creaked and slapped the floor beneath her. A violent rumble of wood hitting against wood came crashing fast between heavy, intoxicated breaths. Whoever this was before was no longer my mother. She was dead. What was left is a distorted husk, wearing her face to be kept alive only for the enjoyment of others’ suffering. She longs for it, addicted to the pain and the drugs. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Insufferable.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” It had been like this ever since we moved here from West Virginia, for over ten years, and I couldn’t remember who my mother was before.

“Go To BED.” She screamed, spitting and nearly folding over in her seat, about to lunge forward, but something kept her still, and with hot and heavy breath, she gripped the armrest inches away from letting her anger take over. I stand tall, holding my ground. She’s going mad. I wanted to stay, I crossed my arms thinking of a way to pull her out of that fucking chair, grandma’s chair. I hesitate. There was a deep twitch in her eyes, something that made the blue turn black. If I stood my ground again, I would be beaten, as purple as a plum. And it would be over a chair. It was just a chair to Ann, but to me, it was everything. An hour with my grandmother was worth this suffering and torment to be with somebody who loved me and who cared about my day. I had a good one. I wanted to tell Grandma about the boy I met at school, about how he blushed when he asked for my name, and how my teachers were friendly. I also wanted to share how proud she would be that I didn’t get lost once on this new campus. It was my first day in college. A flutter in my heart pounded like a drum. All I wanted to do was explode and tell her everything, shower her with all the warmth and happiness I had felt since morning, but I couldn’t have any of that. My chest slowed, a sickening feeling rising from inside, bubbling up and threatening to come out as I looked at the clock. Only two minutes till midnight.

I licked my lips and walked away from Ann. I’m a coward. Ann was laughing at me as I ran up the stairs, mocking me with every swirl of a giggle. That was all she wanted. Couldn’t she pretend to care?

I’ll try again tomorrow. I tell myself as I come into my room, slamming the door and sliding next to Max, who still lies at the end of my bed. His tail wagged, and his nose was cold against my cheek. “Good boy.” I rubbed him back to sleep; he was an old dog who did more sleeping than fetching these days. I opened my mouth to tell Max everything I had done today, but it felt wrong to tell him first. Despite all my efforts to make more friends, I couldn’t find anyone I wanted to talk to more than my grandmother.

It’s weird to think my best friend is a ghost tied to the living room. It’s strange to remember I went to her funeral and told her all about it, who was there, and as we talked, she shot dagger eyes at Ann, who was across the living room in the kitchen, and could very much not see or hear grandma. Oddly, the only person who loved me is dead.

The door adjacent to my room slams closed. I glanced at the clock on the other side of the room. Nearly an hour has passed. I stood up and made a break for the living room, halting just at the curve of the stairs to peer over and see the rocking chair.

In the chair sat an old woman gripping a teacup.

I ease my way down. “Grandma,” I smirk.

“You came.” She smiled, swaying gently.

The air was a bit thin now; a slight hum surrounded us, as if emanating from an invisible radio. Pleasing to the ears. A calming scent of lavender and vanilla engulfed my senses, and I felt at home.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say, settling down next to her with an eager grin. The excitement in the air between us was palpable, and I could already tell this was going to be a memorable night filled with laughter. Grandma pinched her lips; her wrinkles made her laugh lines grow as she reached out with a cold touch to my hand. I lean forward. I waited patiently to hear what she had to say. My heart is beaming, ready to explode from my great morning.

She disappeared. The cup crashed and spilled over the chair.

I lean back, my heart as empty as that cup. When I looked at the clock, midnight had passed and so had our time. I clean up the spit tea and take myself back up the stairs. Tomorrow, I promise myself. I will try again tomorrow. That, of course, is what we do for the ones we love.