Deep within the dwellings of my mothers mind, I often wonder what took her soul and made her eyes shallow.

“Mother, may I clean your face?” I say as I reach towards her. Suddenly, she jerks away from me as if I have a torch to her skin.

“We do not accept help from the forsaken!” Was the only sentence I made out as she screamed until nurses rushed in.

I left soon after.

A few days later, I see my mother again. She looks happier and is talking to the others there. I sighed gratefully as maybe this is a sign of improvement…

I hoped too soon.

“Hi Mom!” I say as I come towards her.

Suddenly her face falls with agony and the tension from her to me can be felt tables away. It is as if every molecule inside her has vowed to end me one way or another. Right now, my mental health is seeping out of my ears making the puddles on the floor bigger with every drip.

I waited a few weeks to see my mother again. It became too much to always be the blame of her “obsessive thoughts of harm and perverted deprivation.” She has become too focused on dragging me down with her that I have begun having nightmares, seeing and hearing people calling for mercy in my own voice. I have tried to chase down the sounds, but no one is here. Even my walls are empty of happiness. Only writing is on these eggshell walls. It’s red. Its obvious and I am terrified my mother somehow snuck out to do it.

All it says is “I should have forsaken you sooner.”

No matter what I do when I am around her, I am scared. It’s more than fight or flight. It’s get out or I’ll die. For some reason, I am still pulled to attempt contact with my mother. One last time. When I do, she will hear of the memories I want to forsake and they all involve her.

I see my mother in her room and I walk in with my shoulders up, ready for war.

“Hello, my angel. Tell me, have you come to read to me again?” A voice from the back of the room spoke softly. It was her voice. But she’s on the bed? Soon enough, I feel a familiar but faint sensation of a hand upon my shoulder. I sink with peace.

“Come with us, my child. You are a part of our dwelling. For I have merely a soul when your here, but I am whole when you are not.”