Minny knew what to expect when he arrived at his house. He knew how his mom was, and he knew what he was about to do.

But, the shock that crossed his face at the woman who opened the door was unexpected. The woman was frail, her eyes sunken deep into her skull, her skin a yellow sheen of what Minny knew was unhealthiness. She gripped onto the door as if it was the only thing holding her up, and when she smiled, it was thin and weak.

"Mom?" Minny started, his hands finding her bony shoulders. He'd been away from home for a little bit of time, but not nearly long enough to find his mother in this state. His mind whirled at why she looked as though she were on her deathbed, and all he could think about was his father's absence.

But when she staggered away from the door, he saw the wine glass in her hand and knew exactly why she looked the way she did.

Having an alcoholic mother was something Minny didn't share with others. It wasn't that he was ashamed of her, or that he was embarrassed to have such a mother, but it was that people didn't understand. Alcoholism wasn't sunshine and rainbows and empty bottles of beer and wine. It was deadly, poisonous, and traumatic.

And in front of him was his dying mother, all because of alcohol.

She'd been here, before. Minny could remember all the times the house nurse was called upon to treat his mother, ever since he'd been young. His mother never touched foot in a hospital, but the nurse had taken permanent residence in the house after his mother's liver failed the first time.

"Are you eating?" He wanted to ask why she was drinking so early in the day, but he knew better. Calling her out for her illness would be horrible of him. He'd dealt with this for so long, he knew her triggers.

His mother waved her hand, barely. "Honey, don't worry about me. Why have you come home?"

He was worried about her. In his life, it had been his nasty father that had pushed both twins away from their household, not their mother. He steered her towards the sitting room, where the lavish furniture met his gaze with disdain. He hated the riches of his own home. A reminder of who he was supposed to be.

When his mother sat down, he teetered between wanting to stay by her side or make her some food. "Mom, where's the house nurse?"

She took a drink of wine and waved her hand again, dismissively. "I sent her home once your father left for the campaign. I prefer an empty house. Especially now that you boys have abandoned me."

A dig, but Minny didn't let it hurt him. He knew how cantankerous his mother was when she was in this state of mind. "Alright, let me get you something to eat." He stood, watching as his mother's head lulled back, and he forced himself to move away from her. He hated when she fell this low, but he had a motive for the visit, and his mother wasn't going to stop him.

But, it would delay him. He could do everything after she had some food in her.

A stop to the kitchen told him that his suspicions about her food habits were true; there was absolutely no food in the fridge or the cupboards. He wasn't sure of the last time she had real food, but he knew she needed to eat.

He found an old box of pasta on a high shelf that his mother couldn't reach, and he put a pan with water on the stove. He waited for the water to boil while he looked around for some sort of sauce, but he found nothing. Just the pasta, and without butter or sauce, it wouldn't be that appetizing for a woman trying to kill herself.

Because that was what she was doing. Minny knew it, always had, but it was because she wasn't in the right state of mind. Depression did that to a person; completely strips a person of their true wants and feelings. His mother had always been lively and lovely when he was a young boy, but now, she was a shell of who she used to be.

He hated himself now for leaving, but it wasn't fair to him to also be trapped in his father's web.

When the water boiled, he put the pasta in. Plain pasta was going to have to cut it, for now, until he went shopping for her. The next step of course was to call the house nurse, but Minny wanted to call 911 instead and have her emitted into the hospital. But, he knew if he did that, his mother wouldn't help him find the records he needed for Polly.

He leaned against the counter and swore under his breath. He loved his mother, and wanted her healthy and happy, but he also wanted that for Polly. And both couldn't be achieved in this moment. Not until he got the records he needed.

When the pasta was done, he put a heaping pile of it on a plate, and went back into the sitting room. His mother was leaning heavily against the cushions, but her wine was spilled on the ground. She'd fallen asleep why he'd been cooking.

He shook her awake softly. "Mom, I made pasta. Come eat."

She blinked up at him with sunken eyes, almost as if she didn't recognize him. "Benjamin? What're you doing home?"

He was used to her losing moments of her memory. He smoothed down the hair on her head, disgusted with how thin and greasy it was from lack of food and shower. "I came home to check up on you. I made you some food."

Her eyes focused on the pasta in front of her. "I'm not hungry."

He bit back his angry response, and ran a hand down her hair again soothingly. "Eat for me, please. Mom, I didn't know it had gotten this bad."

She sat up straighter, almost pushing him off of her. "Benjamin, I said I'm not hungry."

He stood, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Eat a few bites or I'm going to call the house nurse, and she'll make you do worse things than eat a few pieces of pasta."

The threat worked, and his mother moved towards the plate of plain pasta, but she said nothing about the lack of sauce. She put a few pieces in her mouth and chewed defiantly, refusing to look at her son. She felt the bitterness of abandonment seep into her heart, and suddenly she was angry.

"You leave me behind, and think it's okay to come over whenever you want to pull this kind of shit?"

He knotted his hands behind his back, trying to remember what a sweet woman she was before the alcohol. "Mom, please. I'm just trying to help, here. Eat a few more bites, I'm going to go run a bath for you."

She opened her mouth to say no, but he didn't give her time. He sped up the staircase, trying to forget about Kenzie and Tom waiting for him in the car. He knew he was wasting time, but his mother's state was more important right now.

He hated thinking about how long this had been going on. How close she'd been to death. He ran the hot water in the tub, and found soothing soap to run under the water. Bubbles covered the top of the water, and when he deemed the level high enough, he turned the water off.

Downstairs, his mother was chewing on pasta, but the plate looked no smaller than when he'd first handed her the pasta. He didn't push it, and helped her up the stairs and into the tub. He had no desire to see his own mother naked, but she was in such a state of drunkenness that there was no way she could undress herself and climb into the tub alone.

The bruises that covered his mother's naked body were astonishing. Some were fresh and new, some were yellowing and old. His first instinct was that someone was abusing her, but he knew all too well that she was the one abusing herself.

Falling down constantly came with being an alcoholic that refused to eat. Her muscles were deteriorating. She was too weak to hold herself up, and with the alcohol in her system, she couldn't walk straight.

He said nothing about the bruises; he knew it would rile her up further. When she was situated in the tub, she smiled up at him, as if she hadn't been angry earlier. "Thank you, Benjamin. This is very... sweet of you."

He hated that he'd only come by because of the files, and not to check in on her. He should have been a better son, but he wasn't. He was the worst kind of son, abandoning his mother because of his own fear of his father.

"Mom, I need you to think for a minute. Where does dad store his files for the gay camp? Like, the forms he has families sign?"

She looked at him, suspicious crossing her expression. Minny wanted to make sure she didn't suspect a thing, and so he pressed on. "It's for dad. He called me... he wants to find a certain paperwork. I told him I'd stop by and check up on you, and also get that form."

She turned her head from him. Minny knew she was hurt, but he also knew selfishly that she'd forget about this in a few hours, after she'd taken another nap. It was who she was, a part of being an alcoholic. Her mind and memory were always a jumbled mess.

"In his office, in one of the metal cabinets. The passcode is his birthday."

Minny smiled at her. "Alright, sit tight. I'm going to grab the files, tell dad, and then I'll be back up to wash your hair."

He left his mother in the tub and quickly ran downstairs and into the office. His father never locked it, because all of his cabinets were locked. But, his father had never thought that his own wife would give away the passcode.

Minny found the metal cabinets, put in the passcode, and silently cheered when the cabinet opened for him. He slid it open, and marveled at the sight of the manilla folders, organized by year. Polly was released this past September, so he thumbed through the folders until he found the year and month, and then thumbed through the names until he found hers.

When he opened it up though, he wasn't expecting the pictures. The images of a small, young Polly, first admitted. She was crying in her picture, her blonde hair pulled up into two pigtails. She looked so fragile, so young, his chest ached for a moment.

When he looked through her file, he felt bile rise at the description of her treatment. At how his own brother had treated her. All the beatings, the cuts, and abuse that she suffered, all because she was gay.

He wanted to shove the file away, but he forced himself to continue looking, until he found the file he needed. It was the release form, signed and dated by himself. There was no signature from Polly's parents, but there was three forms, all dated and signed by his father, marked to be sent out to her parents.

On each form, the top was stamped. RETURNED, it read, telling Minny exactly what he needed: that Polly's parents had received the form, and sent it back without signing it. Ignoring their daughter.

He snatched all three and pulled them from the file. The paper behind the last form though caught his gaze. It was from her parents, a typed out letter. When he pulled it out, his heart froze in his chest.

Please stop sending these release forms. We wish for our daughter to be held in the camp indefinitely, until further noted.

When we read about the camp, it stated that we, as parents, have the option to pull our child from the camp, or keep her in. We wish for her to stay, even if her treatment is done. We will take her home when we think she is ready.

Minny's hands shook with anger, and he put the letter in with the forms. Not only had Polly been released, her parents had ignored her and had wished for her to continue the torture. Minny wanted to visit her house and ring their necks.

He looked through the file one last time, then put the forms under his arm as he walked into the foyer. He pulled out his cellphone and called the house nurse, knowing that his mother would be angry, but saw no other way.

When he finished that phone call, he went back upstairs. His mother looked to be sleeping in the tub, and instead of waking her, Minny just started washing her hair with shampoo. He almost didn't want her to know he called the house nurse, feeling ashamed for going behind his mother's back. But, he didn't have a choice.

Once he shampooed and conditioned his mother's hair, he left her in the tub and headed downstairs, right in time for the house nurse to arrive.

She'd always been a pleasant older woman, and Minny completely trusted her to care for his mother.

"She's upstairs," he told the nurse. "In the bathtub. I washed her hair, but she could probably use some soap on her skin. Also, she's in bad shape, so if she tries to send you away, please stay."

The house nurse nodded, and hugged Minny. "Benjamin, this isn't your fault. I'll care for her, and if she sends me away, I will call the ambulance myself, to have her emitted."

Minny felt better already, hearing those words. When he pulled away, he smiled at her, tears swimming in his eyes. "I should have come sooner to check on her. She's really bad."

He felt even worse for leaving her again, but he had no choice. He grabbed the forms, then went back out to Kenzie and Tom. He threw the forms in Kenzie's lap, and said nothing for the rest of the way back to Lennard's house.

* * *

Hey guys!

Some heavy stuff in this chapter, involving Minny's family. For those who don't know, or didn't pick it up from the earlier chapters, Minny's mother is an alcoholic. There were signs earlier in the book, but this is really the first scene where Minny has to deal with it.

Alcoholism is a real issue for many families. If you're dealing with it in yours, and want to talk, message me. I dealt with it for many years in my own household.

I love you all, XOXO