Taste Of My Enemy. Chapter Four.

I awoke an hour later, confused and still tired. I dragged myself unwillingly out of bed, hating how tired I was. It felt as if every muscle in my body were coiled tightly as if they were springs, and were just now coming undone. Why did I feel like this?

All of a sudden, I was very aware of how quiet it was in my house. I was an only child, so there had never been any young children running around. But my house was never completely silent as it was right now. A sliver of fear wedged into my heart as I got the instinct that something wasn't right. I turned cold all over and inched my way to my bedroom door. Terror gripped me like a vise, for I had a feeling I could not shake that something bad was about to happen.

I opened the door and went downstairs. As I entered my dining room, I saw my parents sitting at the table. My pretty mother had her head in her hands, she was sobbing silently. My heart pounded in my chest, for I had never seen my mother cry and I hated it. My father stared into space, he looked as though he would never smile again. My father was usually a cheerful and smiling man, and seeing him like this made my mouth go dry.

"Wh-What's happened?" I said quietly, feeling as though someone had issued a command of silence upon the house. My father refused to look at me, and my mother continued to sob into her hands. Finally, my aging but still handsome father looked at me with anguish and pain in his normally bright blue eyes.

"Your mother has cancer." The words cut the silence like a sharp and deadly knife. They hung there as if suspended by a rope, and I couldn't comprehend what was happening. Panic spread over my senses like forest fire. I swallowed, but my mouth was completely dry and my throat contracted painfully. Tears ran down his face, for my mother was the love of his life.

"W-we didn't want t-to wake you," my mother said, stammering. I hated to see her like this, weak and stuttering. My mouth hung open, because I was sure that this was a dream and that I was still asleep and would wake up at any moment. When that didn't happen, I tried to speak.

"Mom...no. This is a mistake, this isn't really happening. You're only forty. People that young don't get cancer. You..no. Just no." I said this extremely fast, as if in a hurry to get the words out. I then began crying and sobbing loudly, unashamed of falling on the floor. Pain washed over me like a wave as horrible pictures came into my mind. My mother, with no hair. My mother, in a hospital. My life, without my mother. I couldn't take this anymore, I had to leave.

I shakily got up and left the house. My parents didn't try to stop me, for like them I needed my alone time. I bolted out the front door and into my car. I started the car and just drove.

I hit the gas and clung to the wheel like a drowning woman. I drove and drove until I reached the beach. I contemplated driving my car further and further into the raging sea until I was drowned, anything to get rid of this pain. It festered and grew inside of me as I pictured my mother dying from a horrible disease. I couldn't take this anymore.

I got out of the car and dove into the water. I started to swim. I had always been a good swimmer, I had taken classes as a child. I swam and swam until I was well past the swimming line. My muscles began to cramp, and my sweatshirt was heavy with water. I thought about how peaceful it must be to die like this, just close my eyes and let my lungs shut down. I stopped moving my tired arms and legs, and let myself start to sink.

I began to sink into the abyss, and I went deeper and deeper. My lungs begged for air, but I showed no mercy. Why should I, when horrible fate showed my mother none?