Retreat
As I harbor my secret close to my chest, I hear something from outside my world of darkness.
"Shit!"
It was my mother. She had spilled a glass of water on the floor.
I was already moving before she asked.
From the Kitchen,I got some paper towels and a cloth, and started cleaning up after her.
The old conversation ensued
"Thank you"
"No problem"
I still felt bad about helping her.
She was sick, but she never acted like it.
So whenever she needed help, I always wondered what was stopping her.
But I couldn't question it.
I didn't want to be seen as that kind of son.
As I begin to imagine what would happen, anxiety starts to run through my veins, causing me to leave.
Tears threaten to form, but the time for weeping is long gone.
At least for me.
So I retreat to the only place I find comfort.
The computer.
Open incognito.
I hear my dad from downstairs, calling me.
The war must go on, I guess.