Ms Wellman: John... We need to talk.
Hearing those words caught John off guard and annoyed him at the same time because he wondered why it had to be today of all days that his mother decided that she wanted to talk to him?
John: Talk? Talk about what? And can we not do this right now? I'm in a hurry to go somewhere.
Ms Wellman: Your school called me about a week ago.
John was puzzled at this point.
John: Yeah? Since when did you care about my education?
Ms. Wellman: That's not fair, John.
John: (cutting in) No, what's not fair is pretending to care in the first place. You haven't said or asked me anything about school for as long as I can remember. So why is it different this time?
His mother sighed and sat on the couch before she continued.
Ms Wellman: I heard about everything you said about me.
John: (bitterly) Great. So what, now you're hurt?
Ms Wellman: Don't talk to me like that!! Despite every mistake I've made, I'm still your mother!
John: (clenching his fists) Yeah? And what does that even mean? "Still your mother"? You throw that around like it's supposed to erase everything.
His mother flinched as he paced around the floor, boiling over and trying to calm himself down.
John: You want to talk about what's not fair? Fine. It's not fair that I had to learn to lie so young. That I've spent half my life hiding what you do from everyone. That I had to pretend that everything was fine and okay when it wasn't. Do you know how these living conditions have messed up my head?! Do you?!
Ms. Wellman: (defensive) I did what I had to do, John! To keep this roof over our heads. To feed you.
John: By selling your body? Are you being for real, right now?!
Ms. Wellman: Don't you dare judge me! You think I wanted this life? You think I'm proud of it?!
John: (shouting) Then why keep doing it?! If it makes you feel so ashamed, stop! Do something else! Anything else!
Ms. Wellman: (angrily) What do you think I am, John? You think the world's just gonna open its arms and hand me some office job? I've got no diploma, no connections, no one willing to give me a second chance. You think I like what I do?!
John: Then change it! Don't use me as an excuse to stay in it. Don't put that on me!
Ms. Wellman: (tearing up, her voice breaking) I gave everything for you! And this is the thanks I get? You walk around ashamed of me?!
John: YES! I am ashamed!
There was a brief moment of silence which allowed the words to be absorbed into the tense and charged atmosphere.
John: You want the truth? I don't invite people over because I don't know if they'll see one of your clients walking out. I lie about you all the time. And I hate that I do. I can't even sleep most nights because of the sounds, the voices, the way you sneak around like I'm too dumb to notice.
He noticed that his mother was crying but that wasn't about to stop him from speaking his mind.
John: You ask me why I'm angry? Why have I always kept my distance? It's because every day I come home, I feel like I'm walking into a brothel, not a house. And every time you hug me, I wonder if your client had his hands on you just hours before...
Ms. Wellman: (screaming) THEN MAYBE I SHOULD'VE ABORTED YOU WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!
Those words were followed by an extremely loud silence which echoed everywhere in their apartment and it seemed like time stopped long enough for the words to fully register in John's ears.
His mother now realizing that the error in her words, covered her mouth too late. John's face crumbled, but not in tears, but disbelief.
John: (barely a whisper) ...You didn't mean that.
Ms. Wellman: (no reply)
John: (voice shaking) You didn't mean that, right?
There was another round of silence as Ms Wellman refused to utter another word.
John: I see...
He turned around and walked to his room. A minute later, the sound of drawers opening, zippers tugging, and a duffel bag being stuffed breaks the air.
Hearing this, Ms Wellman ran down the hallway leading to his room.
Ms. Wellman (calling out): John, please wait. I didn't mean it! I was angry! Don't go, baby, please....!
John slammed his door open, with a bag over his shoulder
John: You already did... A long time ago.
He pushed past her and she desperately reached out to grab his arm, but he immediately pulled away.
Ms. Wellman: (desperate) John! Please don't go! Where will you go?!
John looked over his shoulder as soon as he reached for the door.
John: I'd rather sleep in the street than in this house.
He then opened the door and slammed it behind him, as his mother's voice kept crying out after him as he walked down the stairs and disappeared down the road.
*****
John sat on a bench at the edge of the platform, his duffel bag resting beside him. The weight of the conversation with his mother pressed down on his shoulders like a cinderblock as her words echoed in his head like poison:
"THEN MAYBE I SHOULD'VE ABORTED YOU WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE!"
He clenched his fists and shut his eyes, trying to block it out.
John: Why does it even hurt? She never cared about me. Not really. That wasn't a mistake, it was the truth she finally said out loud.
Even though he told himself that, it didn't stop it from hurting him regardless.
His phone vibrated in his hand and when he glanced at the screen he frowned by what his eyes beheld.
44 missed calls.
All from his mom.
Without hesitation, he scrolled, blocked the number, and deleted the contact.
Done.
As he looked up, his eyes landed on a small jewelry kiosk at the corner of the station. He stared at it for a moment, then stood up slowly.
John: (softly) …I still need to get something for Kana.
*******
[Five Hours Later...]
The train hissed to a stop and John hurriedly stepped off, clutching his bag tightly across his shoulder. His legs were stiff, but his heart was racing.
His phone buzzed in his pocket again.
He pulled it out, thinking it was another call from his mother. But this time, MISA lit up on the screen.
Just as his thumb hovered over the green button, someone walking too fast bumped hard into him.
The phone slipped from John's hand, hit the concrete, and the screen shattered.
Stranger: Ah! Sorry, I didn't see you!
John: (sighs) …No, it's okay. It's fine really.
He picked it up, cradling it. The screen was black and full of cracks all over the screen.
John: (to himself) She probably called 'cause I'm late anyway.
He shoved the broken phone in his bag and picked up the pace. As soon as he left the station and began his walk to the hospital, Kana's face began to replay in his mind.
John: (to himself) Kana's probably waiting. She's gonna be so happy to see me. Maybe even cry when she sees what I got her.
(smiles faintly) I just want to see her smile again.... That's all I need.
*****
After minutes of walking and running, John finally arrived at the hospital and immediately burst through the hospital doors, out of breath and damp with sweat. He knew the path to Kana's ward by now so he immediately tried there after catching his breath.
But the room was empty, when he got there. The room remained remotely the same except for the box which held the cake Misa had brought standing on the table beside Kana's bed.
John: Where'd everyone go?
In his confusion, John looked around for anyone he could ask if Kana's whereabouts and luckily for him, a nurse passed by, and John immediately stepped in her way.
John: Excuse me! The girl who stays in this room, Kana, where is she?
The nurse's face fell and John took note of this immediately..
Nurse: Oh… Are you John?
He nodded, stomach tightening.
Nurse: Kana fell down the stairs this afternoon. She hit her head pretty badly. They rushed her to emergency surgery in the ICU…
The words echoed in John's head and it sent chills down his spine.
John: (barely breathing) ICU? She....she was fine....she spoke to me this morning…
Nurse: Come. I'll take you.
On the way to the ICU waiting room, John could hear his heart beat faster in anticipation and fear and the worst possible outcome began to play in his mind but he immediately shrugged it off.
But then as they turned the corner, John froze at the image he saw.
Misa was on the floor, screaming through sobs, while Jane was holding her, crying silently, rocking her back and forth.
Dr. Kennedy stood to the side, his hands clenched into shaking fists, his white coat wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot and sunken with exhaustion.
John's chest tightened as Kana's face flashed in his mind as the worst possible outcome replayed in his mind along with Kana's face.
John: No… No, no, no, no, no...
Dr. Kennedy noticed him and walked over slowly.
Dr. Kennedy: (softly) …John.
John's breathing was shallow.
John: Where's Kana?!
Dr. Kennedy looked away, lips trembling. His voice was quiet but the words he was about to say would cut deep.
Dr. Kennedy: I'm sorry. I couldn't save her.
A long, shattering silence followed afterwards.
John blinked and then blinked again as the words he had just heard turned his world upside down.
John: What…?