It was a little over 10 PM when Marlon arrived home after his dinner at the Williams. Stepping into his villa mansion was dragging, the house was dark, quiet and cold. So much different from the warm and cozy family home he just left from. 13th West Lexington Hills was not a home, it was just a luxurious building where he goes to sleep.
He hung his keys at the key rack, his eyes wandered to see if anyone was around. The house staff was nowhere to be seen, his mom was probably in her room too. The place was back to the way it was after the party on Saturday that left a trail of chaos and turned it upside down. But he was used to it.
He walked into the dining room to get some water from the fridge. That’s when he saw his mom laying unconscious on the floor, her glass was inches away from her hand and whatever liquor inside it had spilled beside her.
“Mom!” he rushed to her. He kneeled next to her to check her breathing, and then her pulse. This was not the first time he found his mom in this condition. He patted her on the cheek, “Mom … wake up.”
He lifted her eyelids to see if she was just sleeping or was she overdosed. Dr. Seymour had taught him the difference. “Mom … wake up,” he patted her cheek again knowing that she just passed out from the alcohol.
He decided to drag her to the sofa, he knew how to do it the easier way. He had tried many ways, and dragging her by the armpit was the best way.
She grunted half way to the living room. “Mom … you okay?” Dr. Seymour told him to engage her in a conversation once she regain consciousness. It’s better to keep her awake.
“Eli?” her mom’s voice cracked.
His stomach turned, he didn’t reply.
“Eli … is that you?” she said again.
Marlon finally lifted her up to the sofa, “No, it’s me … Marlon.”
Belinda was disoriented when she laid on the sofa, her eyes were half opened but couldn’t see clearly. She touched Marlon’s face, “Eli …” a smile bloomed across her face, “Eli … it’s you.”
It felt like a punch in the gut every time his mother does that. Somehow she sees Eli in him when she’s too drunk to see clearly. He felt a lump on his stomach not wanting to break his mother’s heart and tell her that her Eli is dead and that she was holding the face of her other son that she didn’t love as much.
“Mom, are you okay?” he looked into her eyes.
She held her head, the world was spinning inside her, “I don’t know what happened.”
“You fell on the dining room floor, you had too much to drink.”
She furrowed her brows and looked at the face she was holding and realized, “You’re not Eli … where’s my Eli?”
He pressed the back of his hand against his lips, the realization in his mother’s eyes hurt him more than anything.
She started to cry when she remembered the truth. “Eli … why?”
He could only hope that she didn’t start to wail and scream like she usually does.
“Marlon …” she called him, she was still crying.
He turned to look.
“Marlon … why? Why did you let your brother die and leave us all in this never ending nightmare?”
Marlon stood frozen. It was not the first time his mom had asked things like that. He knew she had always blamed him for what happened to her precious Eli. And every time he was presented by that question, he didn’t know what to say.
What it did was left him questioning himself, was there something he could’ve done to save his brother? Was there something he could’ve done to prevent it? And every time he asked himself that, he had to go back to that time and replayed the scene in his head over and over again.
Nobody knew what happened that day, nobody but him. Nobody knew what had led to that moment when Eli fell to his death, except him. And he hated that people acted as if they do, and to make things worse, his mom’s weakness made her blame him for what happened. She was too weak to accept the truth that she needed someone to put all the blame for all her sorrow as if Marlon wasn’t hurting.
He hated that his mom acted as if she had been drinking too much because of what happened to Eli. She had always been a drunk for as long as he could remember. Eli knew that too. He remembered how he used to watch his brother pulled their mom onto the sofa just like what he had done that night.
When all the other kids their age was learning about how to deal with puberty, girls, playing video games, they were learning how to take care of their drunken mom and what to do in case of an overdose. They had to learn how to pretend that nothing is out of the ordinary after their parents fought with furniture flying around, saying the meanest things to each other in full hatred. Screaming profanity from the top of their lungs accusing one another of terrible things they never even imagined that a parent could do.
“I loved that boy … he was my boy, he was a good kid, wasn’t he? He was a good brother to you, wasn’t he?” Belinda was building up her mood so she can take it out on Marlon. Whenever Josh wasn’t around, Marlon would have to be the one taking all the shit she was about to unleash.
Marlon shook his head, there was no point in making sense of a drunken slur from an alcoholic. All the things she said, she will probably forget it in the morning, but it hurt just the same.
“I’m not playing this game, I’m leaving,” he said.
“Leaving? Hah … just like your father are you? This is why I always find Eli the better son than you … because he’s just like me, he gets me, and you … you’re just like your selfish asshole of a dad … you leave every time things get hard,” she rambled.
Marlon didn’t want to hear what she had to say, he was already half way to the door. “Just don’t take any more pills or drink anything other than water,” he managed to tell her that hoping he wasn’t leaving her to die.
“Come back here! I’m not done with you yet! Ungrateful boy! You think you can just come and go as you please? I let you have a party and gave you everything you want … and this is how you repay me? Leaving me like this? Why don’t you just kill me? Just kill me like you did to your brother,” she started to wail.
Marlon stopped at the doorstep, he tightened his jaw. He wanted to say something to his mother, but he held it inside. He kept telling himself it’s no use. She was drunk and she said mean things to hurt people because she was hurting. He jogged to his car and took out his phone. His breathing was faster and heavier.
He wanted so much to call Hazel. Someone who can give him the sense of normalcy in his life but he didn’t want to bother her any more than he already have. He opened the chat in his group.
“Where’s the party at?” he typed in and pressed send.
His phone lit up.