Fitting?

The intense dance-off with the striped flamingos and pink zebras suddenly stopped when the ice king came and started attacking us with his icy rays. Abandoning my fellow party animals, I ran all the way to what looked like my fortress, and stumbled in. Glad to be away from the ice king, I sighed in relief only to crack up when I thought of how the winged fishes stole the show earlier in the night. “Nick? Nick, is that you?!” Oh no, the ice king found me! But surprisingly, the floral queen came out. “Your Majesty!” I exclaimed while doing a sweeping bow. “You’ve been drinking again,” I heard her mutter. I heard the sound of footsteps increasing, and I looked up to find no trace of the floral queen. Instead, the sea ostrich was paddling towards me. A wave of fear washed over me and, in my haze, I pushed and kicked at the sea ostrich. At the time, that’s all I saw it as— defending myself from the sea ostrich. Eager to be safely away from the evil doer, I ran into the sanctuary of my room. The next morning, I was embraced by a killer hangover and a confused yet slightly frightened mother—I couldn’t understand why she was frightened.

***

The next time, my feathered and furred friends decided to sit out on me, and I was left to survive the wild on my own. After downing a few drinks, I decided to call it a night. As I made my way out, I found myself cornered by three buff guys. The one in the middle spoke up, “You got guts man, wandering into marked territory.” Sneering, he continued, “I seen your kind before, looking all innocent, and just wanting to ‘party’ when you’re actually here to scout down the area, and report back to the hounds.” Confused by what he was saying, my mind still in a drunken haze, I raised my hands up in surrender as I spoke, “Woah! I’m not here to cause any trouble alright? A friend just introduced me to this place; nothing more, nothing—” I was cut off by a hard punch to the jaw before I could finish talking. Stumbling backwards, I quickly dodged another hit before it could make contact. Angered by my actions, they all charged at me, but it seemed like fate was on my side when somebody from the inside shouted, “POLICE!” With one last gut-wrenching punch, they left me and fled with the others into the night.

Forcing my head to clear, I took off running in the direction I had come in. Making my way towards the house, I unlocked the door and trudged in, only to face my mother’s fuming form. “It’s one in the morning Nick! Couldn’t you be a bit more responsible? You still have school and—” I looked up when she had stopped talking to see her eyeing the nasty bruise that had formed on my jaw. “What in the world happened to you?” she shrieked. “What were you doing?” Not in the mood for her antics, I tried to brush past her but she stood in front of me. “Can we not do this now? I’m tired.” I said frustratedly. “We’ll do this when I want to, and I say now!” She countered back. “Well I don’t okay? So just get out off my face!” I shouted back. It was the alcohol talking, not me. “Are you out of your—” Before she could finish, I pushed her out of my way to go, but I turned back when I heard the sickening crack her back made when it came in contact with the marble top counter. At that, I began to panic. ‘You’re your father’s son’, a voice said tauntingly to me in my head. Stepping back in horror when I heard my mother scream, and watching as her eyes welled up with tears, I ran out of the house and into the night.

***

It was getting harder and harder to control myself. I apologized each time of course, but saying ‘sorry’ just doesn’t do justice. I tried avoiding drinking, but each time I closed my eyes and saw the deranged demon that called himself a father, I couldn’t hold myself back. Most times, I went all out.

Everything spiralled out of control when one day, I heard distressing news—I was going to be a father. Overwhelmed, I ran all the way home. Wheezing as I ran into the house, I came face to face with my mother. Even after all I had done, she never gave up and fought till her very last breath. Running a hand through my hair agitatedly, not in the mood for a screaming match, I side-stepped her and started towards my room. “Nicholas! Get back here right now!” she screamed. “I can’t right now mum, I just can’t,” I told her. Her voice shaky, she replied, “What has gotten into you Nick? I’m trying and all you’re doing is just acting out how you want to. I’m trying here, I really am. I don’t want to you to end up like—” She was already bawling when I cut her off. “Shut up! I just heard I’m going to be a father, mum! I know you’re trying, but you’re the least of my problems right now,” I replied back, my tone matching hers. She was frozen with shock by the time I had finished talking. Suddenly, she started breathing rapidly, and next thing I knew, her body hit the floor, a harsh sound emanating from where her head landed on the floor. Once I had come out of my shock, I hastily called the paramedics, and she was taken to the nearest hospital.

She was pronounced dead the following morning. I couldn’t even bring myself to attend the funeral. It was all my fault. I thought that over and over again several times, and indeed it was.

***

My two months of rehabilitation were finally over. I checked myself into the centre two months after mother’s funeral. After that, I devoted myself to working, day and night, to support my child, and the mother. I decided I was going to be a changed person. Everything my father was not, and everything my mother wanted me to be. I owed her that much at the very least.

***

The day the hospital had called saying my wife was going into labour, I drove at lightning speed from my workplace to get there on time. Anya and I had put our initial differences aside, and decided to make it work for the baby, so, we got married.

A lot of agonizing hours later, a nurse appeared in my line of sight. How I wished my mother was here with me. As she came closer, my heart dropped of my chest at her dejected expression. With sad eyes, she regretfully told me my child was still-born. My face blanched, and my heart broke. I hurried inside to meet my wife, but I was told she was put to sleep because the shock was too much, and her body was in a frail condition. Downcast, I trudged home feeling miserable and empty. The next morning, the hospital called to tell me my wife had died from too much blood loss. I nearly lost it.

Fighting the urge to just end it all, I carted my body to the heavy metal gates I had not seen for a while, and followed the path which was engraved in my brain. Making my way to my mother’s grave stone, my feet immediately gave out, and my knees hit the ground with a heavy thump. And like a new-born child, I wept my heart out till I completely gave out.