The more I thought about it the more sense it made. Trevor was the only person I considered my family and it's because I think somewhere in me I subconsciously knew. I knew he and I were actually brothers.

He and I were the same height. We had pretty much the exact same build. I mean hell, we even had the same fucking personality. I guess now I know I get all of that from David's side of the family. Let's not linger on that for too long though.

I had always thought his blonde hair and blue eyes came from his mother, but now I guess it was both of his parents. Now, come to think of it, we both had a similar birthmark that we'd thought was coincidental.

Nothing in life is a coincidence. My father had been screwing around with Trevor's mother on the side. No coincidence there.

He'd betrayed his best friend, cheated on his wife and just basically didn't give a flying fuck about anyone but himself. Also, not a surprise nor a coincidence. No one is a douche bag on accident. Guess that's in our DNA as well.

I wonder if he knew Trevor was his son or not. I'm assuming he didn't or he would've acted much differently around James, Trevor's father. But there were resemblances that he and I carried that I'm now wondering if they ever had James second guessing paternity.

I can't believe Trevor never told me while he was alive. I suppose he didn't want to mind fuck me even more than I already have been. That is my life though, one giant pile of fucked-up. Just so much fuckedupness it's never-ending.

Speaking of which...

I stare at the building in front of me feeling nauseous. My fathers reappearance and Trevor's letter reminded me that there was something I need to do. There was a demon I needed to face and that demon well, that particular one is my mother.

It has been nine years since I've seen her, almost ten. I blow out a huge breath and run my hand through my hair. Another wave a anxiety induced nausea rides through me.

"You sure you're up for this, babe?" Monica asks quietly from beside me.

"Yeah, this is something I have to do. It's time." I give her a swift hug and a kiss before I head into the building.

I give the lady at the front desk my name and my mother's name. It's only a moment before an older lady shows up to escort me to my mother's wing. You know, the wing where all the doors lock behind you so you can't get out.

Once we're outside a large set of doors the nurse turns to me saying, "She's having a good day today. Just be aware of some of her triggering topics."

"What the fuck is a triggering topic?"

She looks at me with disapproval. "First of all, mind your language." Whoops. "Second of all, she lost a baby, so the topic of children is off the table. I know you are her son but I doubt she'll remember that. I wouldn't mention that fact unless she does. Let her do the majority of the talking, that is, if she does any."

I nod. "Okay, I think I got it."

She gives me one last stern look before opening the door. We enter a bright, large open space. In front of us is a long stark-white corridor filled with doors. To the left is another hallway and at the end of it is what seems to be a dining hall. "This way." She veers to the right. "You'll be meeting with her in the lounge area. It's where she spends most of her time and it's where she's most relaxed."

I run one of my hands through my hair. "Okay." I shove my hands in my pockets nervously as I follow her until we hit another set of doors but these ones are open.

"How are you this afternoon, Isabella?" The nurse says to the woman who's sitting on a couch in the lounge area by herself. She's just staring at a television that's playing some shitty old sitcom with a blank face. "You have a visitor today. This is Sean. He's going to watch some television with you."

My mother's large eyes snap to mine and a small smile creeps up her face. "Sean?" She says my name but it sounds like a question.

"Yes, this is Sean. He's going to stay in here and visit with you for a bit." The nurse gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she leaves me alone with her.

"You look like my brother, so much like him." She smiles happily at me as the noise of the sitcom plays in the background. "Sean, it's a nice name. I like the sound of it. Did your mother pick it out?"

"Yes." I nod, trying to keep my emotions in check, as I sit on the love seat next to the sofa. "My mother picked it out." She looks so frail and fragile, like a baby bird, on the massive piece of furniture.

"You're a very handsome young man. You must have a beautiful wife at home, Sean." She smiles at me again. I shake my head no and she frowns.

"I have a girl to go home to though. I'm in love with her, she makes me very happy."

"Oh, that makes me so happy to hear. We should all find love once in our lives. I had love once when I was younger..." She stares at a blank white wall as if trying to remember. "He was a kind man, very handsome and strong. His eyes reminded me of the ocean and his hair looked like it was kissed by the sun." Hearing her talk pleasantly about my father, after everything he put her through, is pure torture. "Then the voices started and he got mad at me." Her eyebrows furrow in frustration.

"The voices?" I had no idea what had happened to my mother or what had landed her in here. I just knew she completely lost it, she wasn't herself anymore after the last time she had tried to kill herself.

"Yes. They come and go. They sing to me sometimes but other times they say hurtful things. I like watching the television" she gestures to the medium sized flatscreen "it helps keep the voices out. Oh, and" she leans in and whispers "the people that aren't really real."

I give her a woeful smirk because hearing her talk about her illness saddened me. She would often sing or talk to herself but I thought that it was just something she did, not that she was actually talking to a voice in her head. Better yet, I had no idea that she was actually seeing people that weren't really there.

I think back to all the painful memories which included my father. Every time he hit her I realize now that she had been talking to herself. I want to fucking kill him thinking he was quite literally trying to knock some sense into her.

"Tell me about the girl! I want to hear about her!" She looks excited as she pulls me out of my irritated thoughts. "What's her name?" She's like a giddy child.

"Monica. Her name is Monica."

"That's a beautiful name. Sean and Monica. I like the way that sounds." My mother looks genuinely thrilled and it pains me to think that she has no idea that I'm her son. She doesn't even know me. She doesn't even know who I am. "What does Monica look like?"

I think about Monica which makes me give her my first meaningful smile. "She's the most beautiful woman I have ever met. She's got long brown hair with matching eyes."

"Oh, I had such long brown hair when I was younger too."

"I know." I couldn't help but blurt out those words, which has her eyeing me suspiciously now.

"How do you know?" Her voice sounds accusatory and I know I've fucked up. "My hair is gray. It is not brown. How do you know that I had brown hair?"

"I... I just assumed it was brown?" It sounds like a question so she's still staring at me a bit uncomfortably. "Monica likes to cook. She makes the best chicken noodle soup I've ever had, well, not better than my mother's soup, but it's still amazing."

"I used to make that for my son when he'd get sick. He'd always get sick when he was a young boy, my boy, my Sean." She looks up at me with wide eyes at the realization. "Sean? Sean? My Sean?"

Tears fall down my cheeks as I nod making the life in her eyes come back. "Yes mama, it's me. It's your Sean."

"Come here!" She exclaims as she opens her arms wide. "Let me see you!" I get up from the loveseat and she surprises me by doing the same from the couch. Her hands go all over me, touching me, as if she doesn't think I am really here. "Look at you! You're so tall and so handsome! Oh and you're in love!" She claps her hands together in front of me. "I can't wait to meet her! Can I meet her?"

"Yes, I think she'd really like to meet you too." She clings herself to me and I wrap my arms around her fragile body. "I'm so glad you remember m..."

"Why are you hugging me!?" She shrieks out in my arms and I immediately let her go. "Who are you!? Why are you here!?" She's backing away from me like an animal in a cage. She starts screaming and putting her hands over her ears as she begins talking gibberish to herself.

No more than a few seconds pass before a slew of nurses come in to calm her down. When that doesn't work they inject her with something that makes her eyes roll into the back of her head. My mother was gone but at least I'd gotten to talk to her, even if it was only for a moment.

-&-

I exit the building, promising myself that I was going to keep visiting my mother. I wasn't  going to just let her rot away in that place any longer. No, I owed it to her to try and maintain some type of relationship with her.

"How'd it go?" Monica asks as she gets up from a bench in front of the building. 

I shrug. "About as well as it could go, I guess. She didn't know who I was for the majority of our conversation and then she remembered me when I brought up soup."

"You brought up soup?" Her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

I let out a little laugh, "Yeah, chicken noodle soup is my favorite soup. I was telling her how you made it for me and she remembered how she used to make it for me when I was a kid."

"You've never told me that." 

"I know." I reach out and touch her long brown locks. "She had hair very much like your hair. I think if she were still all there upstairs she'd really like you. I told her about you and she seemed genuinely happy." 

"You talked about me?" A giant grin plasters itself on her face. "You talked to your mom, about me?"

"Don't look so surprised, sweetheart." I bite the inside of my mouth in nervousness "I was actually hoping maybe next time you'd go in with me. Maybe... meet her?"

"You want me to meet your mother, your family?" Her eyes are wide, tear filled.

"Sweetheart, you are my family."