Jason: Mom, It's Raining

“Can’t make any promises,” I said, hesitating. “Okay, I’ll see ya.”

I forced out a smile toward Alice, hoping she wouldn’t press further. I hated lying to her. But what was I supposed to say? That I was going somewhere I didn’t want her following?

She waved goodbye. Her smile faded just a little, and I looked away. I didn’t want to see that look on her face. Not now.

I told myself it was better this way. She had enough to deal with already, and dragging her into this wouldn’t help anyone. Still... I wish I could’ve told her. Just once. But I’ve always handled things on my own. No sense changing that now.

Even though the door was shut, my hand still gripped the knob. It was like my body was trying to stay here longer, trying to stay with Alice. I loosened my grip and eventually let go of the door knob. My hands suddenly felt cold. I looked over my shoulder and noticed that it was raining. The rain came down hard, drumming against the pavement in a steady rhythm. And yet, somehow, it felt comforting—like I could stand here for hours, unbothered by anything.

Should I get an umbrella?

The hospital wasn’t too far of a walk away. So I’ll probably be fine. Thinking about it now, my mother seems to be conveniently placed close to my apartment. I wonder if he did this on purpose.

Whatever. Time to get going.

My mother has always been sick. She’s always needed someone by her side. Whether it’s cooking food or just chores around the house, I was there to do it all. It’s not like I wanted to help but it was something I had to do. After what happened between my parents they didn’t want anything to do with each other. And for my brother, he wasn’t willing to help my mother. Especially if someone else could do it instead. He would just do his own thing and only worry about himself. I’d watch him walk out the door without a glance back, while I was stuck inside reheating soup or scrubbing out dishes. At first, I thought he was selfish—heartless, even. But that freedom he had? I envied it more than I wanted to admit.

I used to think he was selfish, a person deprived of any empathy, as if the only person who mattered in his life was himself. But as I got older, I saw that the way he lived was right. Yes he was selfish but he was free.

I gave up my middle and high school years to stay home and help my mother out while he had the time of his life. I barely made any friends growing up and once it was time for me to start high school my father forced me to be homeschooled. That way I could help my mother as much as possible. The resentment I held for my father grew. I asked him “If you care about her so much why don’t you take care of her?!” He just told me that he couldn’t. But for some reason, I just accepted that answer and agreed to help my mother.

Thinking about it now, it’s a miracle I didn’t end up as awkward as Alice—especially since I barely talked to anyone growing up. Even without friends, I still tried to put myself out there, whether it was at a park or an arcade. I just wanted to have fun. But whenever I did, my father would remind me it was my job to be a good son, as if I didn’t have a choice.

He’d say, “She gave birth to you. You owe her that.” And somehow, over the years, I started believing it. Like all my own desires were secondary. My life wasn’t about me anymore; it was about fulfilling my job. This belief would constantly loom over me and I would try to fight it off every time. But after a while I just got tired and I just gave up.

Some time later I guess I just got used to it. But sometimes I wonder: Am I in the wrong for wanting to be free? Free from all of this mess, free from her. But it’s not like I’m the one who’s sick… so why do I feel so bad?

“I’m here.” I let out a soft sigh as I gently opened the door.

My mother looked skinny and frail, as if she was a skeleton. I was surprised she could even sit up, let alone glare at me like that. “Where were you?” she asked, her voice sharp.

“Uh, I was eating… with a friend,” I mumbled, avoiding her eyes.

“Friend?” She said, her voice cold, “so that's what's going on.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Just like your father.”

I snapped at her, “What, no?! What’re you talking about?” The last thing I wanted to hear from her or anyone is that I’m just like my father. But her words came sharp as a knife, cutting through me. “Don’t ever compare me to him.” I clenched my hand into a fist, my voice weakening. “I’ve done so much for you and–”

“Yet you weren’t here earlier,” she cut me off, her voice flat. Outside, the rain kept hammering the window like it had something to prove.

“What if I had died just now? Alone… with no one by my side. First your brother, then your father… and now you?” Her words stabbed right through me. My mother looks away from and out the window. It was still pouring, just like before. This time it wasn’t soothing, it was loud. It was annoying. “Tell me: why do I always end up alone?”

I froze. My chest tightened. It hurts.

She was right. What if she had died? Looking at her now, it felt possible, like death could come for her at any moment. I took a deep breath and clenched my fist. It eased the pain a little, but it still lingered.

I looked down. My shoulders are heavy. I muttered, “Okay, I’m sorry…”

‘'That’s the Jason I know,'’ she says, her voice almost condescending, as if she weren’t lying in a hospital bed.

I kept my eyes on the floor, unable to speak. The silence between us stretched, filled only by the pounding rain outside. It was loud. Relentless. It was loud. It was relentless. I took a deep breath and made my way to the stool beside her. It was dusty. I brushed it off using my hand and sat down.

“Here,” I say, handing her a bottle of water I picked up from a vending machine.

She turned back to me and took the water. “Thank you…” She hesitated before adding, “So, how have you been doing... in school?”

"Why do you care?"

“Is it wrong to take interest in the well-being of my own child?”

“I guess not, it’s been going alright. I was able to get a few A’s and a few B’s last year and this year is just beginning so nothing much so far.”

“You couldn’t manage straight A’s?” she asked, her voice laced with disappointment

Slightly annoyed, I mumbled, “No.”

“Your father sends us barely enough as it is. If you want me to stay healthy, you’ll need a lot of scholarships. Don’t forget that.” She sounded angry, no, more like worried. It felt like she was depending on me for her survival. And in a way, she was. The hospital bills keep rising every month, but my father’s allowance hasn’t changed. Sometimes I wonder if they’ll get so high that I’ll be forced to take over. I just hope that never happens.

I let off a sigh, “Yeah, sure.”

“That aside,” she says, her tone suddenly bright, as if nothing had happened. “Has anything happened to you recently? You do seem different nowadays.”

“Really?”, I asked, confused. “Why do you think that?”

“Just a feeling I guess.” She stared down at her hands for a moment then added, “You mentioned eating with a friend earlier. Didn’t know you have those.”

Alice suddenly popped into my head. Thinking about her made me disregard my mother’s attack. “Yeah, she’s a classmate I met last year and we became friends.” Talking about her made me feel slightly better. “We decided to become roommates this year and—”

“That’s enough. You can go home now.”

I hesitate for a second, “A-are you sure?”

“Yes, have a good night.”

I stood up and took a step back. “Okay, then, I guess I’ll see you next week.” Unsure of what else to say I just walked away. As I exited the hospital and realized that the rain had stopped. I stepped out and into the night air. The rain had stopped, but everything still glistened under the streetlights. The air felt heavy, like it hadn’t quite let go of the storm.

I guess the walk back won’t be as bad as on the way here. I was there for a while, I wonder if Alice is awake right now. Hm, she might be since we don’t have an eight am tomorrow.

When I eventually got home, I gently opened the door and saw someone passed out on the couch. It was Alice. Her phone rested loosely in her hand, the screen still lit, quietly replaying the video she must’ve fallen asleep watching. Looked like she was waiting for me to get home. So dumb, I didn’t even tell her when I was going to be back. I couldn’t help but smile at this idiot. She looked peaceful like this: quiet, still, kind of cute. Without realizing it, I found myself leaning in, something pulling me toward her. Before I knew it I was hovering over her cheek. I leaned in a bit and whispered to her, “Thanks for worrying about me.”

Alice tossed and turned, which made me jump back. She started to mumble something. I couldn’t hear her so I leaned in, “Mmm… can you give me like five more minutes?”

I smiled, “Yeah, sure.”