Page 81 of Sweet Madness

No.

Fuck, no.

Please, God. Let this be a nightmare that I’ll soon wake up from.

My Ma.

Not her.

There she is, my sweet and too-good-for-this-world Ma, lying peacefully in the tub, the water still and cold around her. For a moment, time seems to stop as I struggle to breathe, taking in the scene before me. With a choked sob, I rush forward, kneeling beside her, reaching out to touch her small and frail hand, hoping for a response.

But there is none. My Ma is gone, leaving me alone with wrenching grief in my heart.

“No, Ma, no!” I shout, my voice cracking with anguish. My eyes widen in horror as I notice the water around her turning red, staining her skin and the porcelain tub. The horrific sight is evidence of the tragedy that has unfolded while I was away from her. The blood seeping out of her veins is proof of her pain and her lost battle with depression.

“Fuck, Ma,” I hiss as I lean in to kiss the side of her head. Her blonde hair, the same shade as mine, is matted to her face. Dark circles under her eyes and thin lines around her mouth reveal her anguish.

She was in pain… fuck.

Unimaginable grief overwhelms me, crushing me with its weight. I clutch her lifeless hand tightly, unable to understand what had happened to make her reach this point. Last time we spoke she was laughing and cracking jokes. She asked me about my job at the White House and seemed genuinely happy.

Why, Ma?

Tears stream down my cheeks, my body racked with sobs of despair. I cry unashamedly for the loss of my mother, my only friend and ally.

In that moment, as I hold my Ma’s cold hand in mine, the world blurs around me. I lean closer to her, whispering brokenly, “I’m so sorry, Ma. I should have been here. I shouldn’t have left. Fuck, forgive me, Ma.”

The anguish in my voice echoes through the empty bathroom.

Time stretches into eternity as I kneel there, the weight of sorrow pressing down on me, my mind reeling with the cruel reality that she is gone. I come home to make sure my mother is okay and instead find myself facing a grief I never thought possible.

Now I’m stuck in a nightmare I don’t think I’ll ever wake up from.

As I sit beside her, cradling her cold hand in mine, my eyes fall upon the items lying beside her in the tub. Her favorite book, worn from countless readings with a broken spine, lies open on the floor, pages slightly damp. Next to it gleams her wedding band, a symbol of a love that didn’t last long. Beside the ring, there is a photograph of me as a child, my Ma beaming proudly beside me.

Trembling, I pick up the photograph. Turning it over, I see my Ma’s handwriting—precise yet shaky—that cuts through my grief like a knife.

I’m sorry, my sun.

My breath catches as I read her words over and over. The weight of her apology and the pain in her writing overwhelm me. I know then that she must have left me this message, knowing I would find it.

With shaking hands, I fold the photograph gently, holding it close to my heart.

“I wasn’t enough. My love wasn’t enough to make you stay,” I croak out, my chest aching in agony.

A long moment passes as I let the pain and anger take root in my heart, filling me with misery. Then I let go of my Ma’s hand and forced myself to stand up.

Then as I stand in the bathroom, my mother’s lifeless form behind me, I reach into my back pocket and pull out my phone. With shaky fingers, I dial the emergency number and report my mother’s suicide in a voice that crack with sorrow.

“I found my mother,” I say, my tone hollow and numb. “She’s... she’s dead.”

The words hang heavy in the air, final and heartbreaking. My gaze shifts to the mirror, meeting my own eyes—eyes that were once bright with hope, now clouded with anger, hopelessness, and grief.

The reflection of the man staring back at me feels like a stranger in my own skin.

My heart, once full of love and purpose, now feels like a desolate wasteland, consumed by the emptiness left in my mother’s absence.

I clench my jaw, fists tightening at my sides, as the realization settles in. I know, deep down, that I will never be the same again. The loss of my Ma changes me irreversibly, stripping away the happiness that once defined me. The boy Ma raised is now gone. He leaves with her.

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