It was my mother’s number. Odd she’d be calling me at this time of night, I had thought she was sleep. I was certain of it. And even if she was up, she never calls me at this time of night, especially not when I’m at her house. Why would she? Our rooms aren’t far.
Halfway into the first vibration, my phone abruptly goes quiet, and the Iphone screen display reverts back to the lock screen, displaying the time as 11:35 PM.
Hm, She mustve been trying to call a friend and called my number by mistake. She does that sometimes. Whatever. Still odd that she’d be trying to call a friend so late. She usually only does that when drunk.
*20 seconds pass*
My phone vibrates again.
It’s my mothers number again.
I’m almost ready to let out a small chuckle at the technological incompetence, but the phone doesn’t stop ringing. That’s odd. What could she want at this time of night? Nothing. She never wants anything when she calls. If it was important, she’d just yell my name. Hell, if it wasn’t important, she’d just yell my name. Her room wasn’t far from mine. On the rare occasion she would call my phone, she would do so only to nag me about things she had nagged me about earlier.
The phone continues to vibrate until it goes to voicemail.
I don’t answer.
Instead, I make my way to the kitchen, needing a lighter to continue my smoke session. My mom always keeps a lighter in the kitchen. Her room is also adjacent to the kitchen. I figure I can see what she wants and borrow a lighter at the same damn time. I turn into the kitchen, as soon as I do, I see a small red bic atop the kitchen counter, made easily visible in the dark by the moonlight let in by the large window above the kitchen sink. I grab it, put it in my pocket. I don’t bother turning on the kitchen light, as I’m a grown man, and the light from the fridge will be more than enough enough to provide the false sense of security that light always does. Not to mention, I have the munchies. I open the fridge, knowing that there’s nothing in there. I take a quick look, before leaving it open and making my way to my moms room
“Mom?”
No answer
that’s odd. It hasn’t been 2 minutes since she called me. No way she went to sleep, or back to sleep, in such a short amount of time. I look around the kitchen for her phone. She always left her phone on the charger next to the microwave when she went to bed. It’s not there. Maybe she wasn’t home after all. I had pondered the thought earlier that evening after noticing how It had been remarkably quiet the entire time I had been home that evening. After coming in the house after work, I did not hear a single noise for the entirety of the evening. I didn’t think much of it. My mom was getting up there in age and perhaps she had been tired from work. It wasn’t rare for them to turn in early, but for her to not make a single trip to the bathroom or into the kitchen was odd. However, I had been too high to think much of it.
But if she was gone, then why is her door cracked open with the tv on? She would never do that. And I mean never. Not when she wasnt home. So she must have called me from her room, with her phone, then why isn’t she answering me? I look over at the counter again. Her purse is gone as well. She almost always left her purse on the kitchen counter before going to bed. Nothings adding up. I’m thinking too much. For all I know, a of that could mean nothing, and she could’ve had a heart attack or stroke. I need to check on her. But how could she have had the awareness to call me, end the call, wait, and then call me again if that were the case?
“Mom?!” I yell a little louder, although there’s no way she shouldn’t have been able to hear me the first time.
Still, no answer
Something feels off. I make my way over to the bedroom door and peek into the crack. The room is illuminated by the blue light emanating from the tv screen.
I see two silhouettes under the bed covers.
My fathers been dead for 4 years.
Halfway into the first vibration, my phone abruptly goes quiet, and the Iphone screen display reverts back to the lock screen, displaying the time as 11:35 PM.
Hm, She mustve been trying to call a friend and called my number by mistake. She does that sometimes. Whatever. Still odd that she’d be trying to call a friend so late. She usually only does that when drunk.
*20 seconds pass*
My phone vibrates again.
It’s my mothers number again.
I’m almost ready to let out a small chuckle at the technological incompetence, but the phone doesn’t stop ringing. That’s odd. What could she want at this time of night? Nothing. She never wants anything when she calls. If it was important, she’d just yell my name. Hell, if it wasn’t important, she’d just yell my name. Her room wasn’t far from mine. On the rare occasion she would call my phone, she would do so only to nag me about things she had nagged me about earlier.
The phone continues to vibrate until it goes to voicemail.
I don’t answer.
Instead, I make my way to the kitchen, needing a lighter to continue my smoke session. My mom always keeps a lighter in the kitchen. Her room is also adjacent to the kitchen. I figure I can see what she wants and borrow a lighter at the same damn time. I turn into the kitchen, as soon as I do, I see a small red bic atop the kitchen counter, made easily visible in the dark by the moonlight let in by the large window above the kitchen sink. I grab it, put it in my pocket. I don’t bother turning on the kitchen light, as I’m a grown man, and the light from the fridge will be more than enough enough to provide the false sense of security that light always does. Not to mention, I have the munchies. I open the fridge, knowing that there’s nothing in there. I take a quick look, before leaving it open and making my way to my moms room
“Mom?”
No answer
that’s odd. It hasn’t been 2 minutes since she called me. No way she went to sleep, or back to sleep, in such a short amount of time. I look around the kitchen for her phone. She always left her phone on the charger next to the microwave when she went to bed. It’s not there. Maybe she wasn’t home after all. I had pondered the thought earlier that evening after noticing how It had been remarkably quiet the entire time I had been home that evening. After coming in the house after work, I did not hear a single noise for the entirety of the evening. I didn’t think much of it. My mom was getting up there in age and perhaps she had been tired from work. It wasn’t rare for them to turn in early, but for her to not make a single trip to the bathroom or into the kitchen was odd. However, I had been too high to think much of it.
But if she was gone, then why is her door cracked open with the tv on? She would never do that. And I mean never. Not when she wasnt home. So she must have called me from her room, with her phone, then why isn’t she answering me? I look over at the counter again. Her purse is gone as well. She almost always left her purse on the kitchen counter before going to bed. Nothings adding up. I’m thinking too much. For all I know, a of that could mean nothing, and she could’ve had a heart attack or stroke. I need to check on her. But how could she have had the awareness to call me, end the call, wait, and then call me again if that were the case?
“Mom?!” I yell a little louder, although there’s no way she shouldn’t have been able to hear me the first time.
Still, no answer
Something feels off. I make my way over to the bedroom door and peek into the crack. The room is illuminated by the blue light emanating from the tv screen.
I see two silhouettes under the bed covers.
My fathers been dead for 4 years.
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