Adolescence

I remember little of what happened at school that day. There were still months before final exams, and the teachers could not be bothered to enforce discipline as the melting snow improved everyone's outlook. I might have glanced at my watch more and more frequently as the end of last period neared, and I probably walked home as lazily as always despite the chilly wind. I likely opened the front door as brazenly as always, and marched upstairs to my parents' room where Mom usually enjoyed some alone time with the latest tabloids. But my memories are only clear from the point where I pushed open the door. Mom was kneeling on the ground beside the bed, with her head against the mattress.