TELL YOUR STORY CONTEST 2024: WINNING Creative NonFiction Submissions

Watching him from the window and it was a midnight. He was still there, in the street, hanging with his gangs, on a very chili day.

I kept coming back and forth to the window, checking on him, calling him, asking him to come up home. It was getting very late. He gave me a fiery look. Stared at me. Waved to go inside.

I’m tired, speechless, frustrated and scared to death! What if he didn’t come up! What if he went with his friends! What if we can’t make it tomorrow, the 3rd!

Tired of standing, I came inside, leaning on my cane. Couldn't sit; went back to the window to ask him the same question I have been asking him for hours:

"Are you coming up! Coming home!"

Unfortunately, I did not see him. I rubbed my eyes, trying to look carefully. No, neither he nor his group was there. I fell on the chair, sobbing. He is not going to come up. He already drives me crazy.

My heart sank. Oh, he must have gone to one’s house! Another horrible night for me. I sighed, murmuring, God, help me God.

Minutes passed like ages, putting my hands on my face, desperate, when I heard the door open.

I wiped my face, caught my breath and whispered to myself. Thank you God.

He gave me a brief look and went to his room, not a word.

I tried to catch few hours of sleep; unfortunately, could not. Kept looking at the clock, afraid I'd miss the time.

Slowly, the sun rose. I hurried up to his room to wake him up. He shouted at me and said: "I'm not going. Go out and close the door". I wanted to break his head, can't stand him anymore, but if we didn't go today, we will never go!

I begged him to wake up, reminding him that he promised. He covered his head with the pillow, doesn't want to listen.

It is my life with him for years, despair and disrespect. No one visits us. They treated us as aliens or sick people with contagious disease!! 

Where to go!! What to do!!

Suddenly, I found him standing in front of me with his pale face, on a green shirt like his faded green eyes, a young, helpless guy saying: "I'm ready! Are you?"

I grabbed his bag and went. I drove my old car, worried and scared. No words between us. The road was bumpy, long and narrow, like our life together.

Finally, we arrived. While I was waiting and finalizing the paperwork, the old manager with his glasses on, showed up and coldly told me:

"He doesn’t want to stay, it has to come from him. We can't force him".

A high scream came from inside me, a loud sound that I've never imagined I could have, I yelled at him:

"No, I'm not taking him back. You asked me to bring him on the third of this month, and I did. It's your job to keep him, your job!"

A big surprise showed on his face, he murmured and went inside again.

A few minutes, he came back and said:

"We will do our best. He will be here with no phone calls or any contacts. He must get rid of all the drugs in his body. We will call you back. You may leave now."

I can't remember my feeling on my way back. Was I happy? Relieved? Hopeful? Thankful? Or, scared and feared? Scare and fear were my intimate feelings for years! Sigh.

*******

In a group of people, he is standing, talking, and said:

"Two years ago, on the same day as today, the third of this month, I was a useless person. I share my experience with grief, shame, fear, and recovery. I'm a clean honest man now."

He pointed at me and continued, "I owe it to myself and to my beautiful mom."

Tears slipped over my face, different ones. Tears of love, success, and victory.

                   Original Creative NonFiction Submitted by Souma Zakaria