Drenched. I’m drenched. I’m waiting for a ride outside of this hideous school as I have been for the past hour. It’s raining intently, and I’m babbling to myself furiously. Where is she?

That’s probably not the best question to ask; I had my thoughts on where Mom was when she’s late. I was sure it was a “meeting running late…” Right. A “meeting” with Jo, no doubt.

Breaking my angry trance, my phone rings. Oh, joy.

“Hello?” I asked, pretending to be oblivious to who it is.

“Hey, Holly. Sorry I’m late, our meeting ran way over.”
Figures. “I kind of guessed, Mom. Could you just hurry? I’m cold.” I wonder if she can hear my bitterness.
“Okay, dear, but please don’t be so cross. You know, youre beginning to act more and more like those teenagers who get high all the time that I read about on the internet all the time…”
“Mom!” I snapped.
“I’m sorry, you know I love you. All I care about is your safety.”
Yeah, like I never heard that one before…
*click*
Oh, great. She hung up. Ugh I should just walk home. Scaring me half to death, my phone rings.
“Mom?”
“Holly… listen to me… call an ambulance… I just caused a wreck… I’m hurt… so is Jo…”
I heard the *click* as the line went dead again.
Right as I’m about to dial 911, the cops call me. They searched her phone, I guess. A nice youngish officer, Officer Sanchez, is coming to pick me up at this deadbeat of a school to take me to the hospital to see Mom and Jo. He wouldn’t say much on the phone, just that Mom was really, really hurt. I felt a sob begging to crawl through my body, suddenly feeling ashamed of myself for thinking so cruelly.
In the ride to the hospital, it was super awkward. To make it easier on poor Officer Sanchez, I started scanning my texts “coolly”.
Totally randomly, his phone started playing “Eyes Only”.
“Good song.” I chuckled to myself.

Followed by a series of “uh-hum’s and “yeah”s and some “oh”s, he looked at me sadly and flipped a U-Turn.

Where are you taking me?” I asked.

“To Jo’s house. I’m so sorry, Holly. Your mother just passed away.”

Quickly, he adds “The doctors said if she had survived, she would be put in an asylum. She had forgotten everyone, everything. She tried jumping out of the window; I suppose it’s better she died in a coma-gone-worse…I’m sorry. At least you have Jo; he planned on wedding your Mom next weekend…”

As if that makes me feel any better!

“Where are you, Mom?” I wonder. The tears are coming on, I feel it.

Where’s the mom I knew? Where’s the real you?