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13

A/n: I love him so much, he makes me happy ❤️

Sorry I didn't upload yesterday! I got sidetracked and didn't realize the time and had totally forgotten.
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-Later that evening-

~Jack~

It's 6pm now. Me and Mark are getting ready to go bring my mother to a rehab centre. I'm not gonna lie, I'm scared. I haven't been home for almost 2 days and she must be furious right now, you know how the last time went.

I talked it through with Mark and he seems to be on my side. I don't want to put her in jail. I know what she's done to me and yes it isn't acceptable for a mother to abuse their own son, but she is still my mother. I want to get answers. Normal, truthful, and proper answers without her lashing out at me with alcohol being the only substance in her body. Jail is very very strict, obviously. I won't be able to sit down properly and talk without rude guards breathing over both our shoulders, heck, we won't even be near each other. We will be separated by glass and talk through a phone. That's not what I want to happen.

At least if she's in rehab then she will have no alcohol, no mean guards watching her every move, we can talk like adults on comfy seats with nothing separating us. We would speak openly and not have gross scenery to be surrounded in. We would be taken seriously because staff in rehab centres treat you with respect because they know it's hard to let go of an addiction. All they do in prison is yell and scream at you until you obey, and if you don't obey, then well.. You know what happens.

Am I wrong for thinking this?

Should I lock up the very person that gave birth to me for good and never get answers or see her again?

Sure, she caused me pain but sometimes that's life. In this world it's not something that never happens. It does happen, and other people may do things differently, but I'm doing it my way because it's my life. Nobody will take my own free will away from me. And surely no cop or judge will take my mother away.

(Time skip)

"Okay, Mr. Mcloughlin, you will be escorted back to your home with two of our male staff to get your mom and will return her here to start her treatment" sweetly said the lady at the front desk.

I thanked her and the 2 staff members followed us to Mark's car. We got in and drove to my house. When we arrived we all got out and since I'm the son I had to go in first, Mark wasn't pleased with that.

"I'll go in first, you can wait in the car Jack" said Mark, voice coated with worry and persistence.

"No Mark, she will think you're an intruder and will most likely come at you with full force" I replied going up the few stairs leading to the front door.

He sighed, "I just don't want you to get hurt by her anymore" 

I sadly half smiled at him but went forward anyway, him right beside me and the staff close behind. I entered the house and it was a mess, not surprising. Instantly, horrid memories flashed through my head of that house and the things that went on inside it. Mark noticed me in a distressful state and grabbed hold of my hand, squeezing it tight.

I swallowed hard and stepped forward to hear a crunching sound beneath my foot, I moved it back to see broken glass.

"Guess she got bored again.." I say flatly.

"Mr. McLoughlin, if she shows any sort of violence then we will have to step in and hold her back, you may explain to her quickly why we are here but nothing more, we cannot waste anymore time" said one of the staff members.

I nodded and we started searching the house. Mark and I quietly looked around the living room while the staff looked in the kitchen and dining room. We tried to stay quiet so we didn't startle her, that would've just made things worse.

I noticed Mark looking at the broken picture frames of what use to be a happy family. I seen him smile at a few baby pictures of me too.

"You were a cute baby" he smiled.

"Ah I wasn't that cute" I blushed.

"No disrespect Jack but, why are they hung up? Wouldn't your mom disapprove of happy things like this?" He asked, taking the broken glass framed picture of me in elementary school off the wall and looked at it.

I rested my head on his shoulder, looking at it with him.

"She did, I put them up and kept putting them up every time she knocked them down and said they were the past and not to be seen or talked about again" I replied taking it from him and putting it back on the wall.

"Why do you still hang them up?" He asked.

"Because that was the only happiness in this house" I replied, walking away towards the hallway.

"Where is she?" Asked Mark.

"Bedroom" I said matter of factly.

The staff meet up with us in the hall outside my mothers bedroom door and I smell a ton of alcohol. Bingo.

Wondering if I should knock or just go in, Mark grabs my hand once more and squeezes tightly. But I let go once I knock on her door. I flinch as I hear a bottle hit the hardwood floor.

"Sean?! Is that you?!" She yelled, opening the door.

Once she recognized it was me, she swiftly punched me in the stomach.

"Jack!" Mark yelled.

I fell to the ground holding my arm over where she hit me, I waved my hand to shoo Mark away from helping me.

"Nice to see you too" I said weakly while getting up.

The staff grabbed my mother by each arm and brought her to the front door.  "Get your hands off of me!!" She squirmed in their grasp.

"Ma'am you need to calm down please" one tried to reason with her, I just chuckled knowing that she won't listen to anybody but herself.

"Mom, we're taking you to a centre where people will help you get better okay?" I told her.

She yelled and cursed as the staff took her to The taxi that Mark called for. Mark told the two men that it's better if me and him weren't in the same vehicle as her. They both understood and told me that visiting hours were Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, all 11:00am-10:00pm. I thanked them and they drove away.

Now it was just me and Mark, left in front of my old, now-abandoned house.

Mark noticed my eyes getting glossy as I watched them drive away and immediately hugged me, rubbing my back soothingly hushing me.

"It's over" he said.

No, I thought.

It's just the beginning of something that should've ended a long time ago.

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