Home was always so messy.

No matter how many times I tried to clean, the halls remained dumped with empty bottles and burn marks stained the sofa from cigarettes. Alcohol and smoke always muffling the air with a somewhat bearable stench.

Always messy. Always smelly.

Yet today, I couldn't hold back from holding my breath as I entered our squeaky door. I couldn't refrain my eyes from widening in shock at the sight.

"Mum?"

I slowly step through the doorway, careful in my steps as I make way around the shards of glass swept around my feet. Mum has never had an episode this bad.

"Hi mum, I'm home from school, let's watch the cooking show now."

I turn the corner to peak into the living room, more empty bottles meeting my eyes along side the TV lost in static. The curtains have been pulled down and blankets are strewn over the room in messy throws. I quietly rush to the kitchen cabinet where mum's medication is kept, but as soon as I reach the cabinet, I recognise the broken lock and the cabinet thrown open. The medications are missing. Shit.

Panic and fear seeps through my veins as all the possibilities at this current moment rushes through. There are a million things that might've happened, none of them are good. I need to find mum.

"Mum? Come on, we can make some cookies!"

I immediately head to her bedroom, her bed is in it's usual mess yet her sleeping form is not under the old covers.

"Mum?!"

I turn to the bathroom, the closed door mocking my fear and anticipation. I pull down on the handle and I almost burst into tears when I open the bathroom door. I have never ran faster to the home phone sat on the kitchen bench, never have dialled faster or spoke with such intensity. The dispatcher tries to calm me down, but my eyes are ringing and my body feels like a fever has washed over. I want to help my mum, I have always wanted to help her, I have always had so much hope that she was getting better, always thought she would be ok. But why was I wrong? Why did I come home only to find her lying in her own pool of vomit?

I should've known it never would've been easy having a mum so sick, having only you and her in a home neither can properly care for. But I had so much hope, so much faith. And now it's all gone and I feel empty.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come home earlier mum." I whisper to her as I hear the ambulance sirens down the road. "I'm so sorry."