Let's Meet: Marcus Warren

ADRIENNE

The moment my eyelids shut and my mind drifted away, everything turned dark and scattered. At last, my mind cleared, and I found myself standing in the dim light of a grey, overcast day. It didn’t take long before I realized exactly where I was.

Our family kitchen was warm and familiar. The smell of cooking food wrapped around me like a soothing and familiar. The stillness was soft, heavy in the way that only Sunday mornings could be.

My mother – alive and well – stood at the stove with her back to me, humming her usual song. She was still in her bath robe, with her hair pinned loosely at the back of her head. She moved through that kitchen the way she always did – like it was an extension of her.

Like that was the one place in the world where nobody could touch her. Her safe space.

I had no idea why I was remembering this memory. Nothing interesting had happened that day. It was like every other normal day where I spent time with my mom, or didn’t. Because five minutes later, I was out of the house, hurrying to meet my friends.

Like every typical teenage girl.

But now that I thought about it, I realized it was the happiest I’d seen her. What had been special about that day? I would never know.

The memory morphed, and suddenly, I was standing outside our house.

It was a Thursday afternoon and I still had my car keys in my hand. I had driven four hours because something in her voice the night before had made me uneasy. I was wager to see my mother and I drove all the way from my hostel.

The front door was unlocked when I arrived. The house was quiet in the wrong way – a sinking feeling pressed against my chest as I searched the house for her. Taking the stairs two at a time until I found her at the landing.

The moment I saw her, I knew what she was about to do.

My mother stood at the edge of the upstairs balcony railing. She looked sad and her mascara had stained her face, but as soon as she saw me, I saw the emotion slip back inside. She smiled softly, whispering words I never heard.

“Mama.” I called out, reaching for her. Except it was too late.

She plunged down the railing, falling head first to the ground below. I remember running. Screaming till my voice scratched again my throat. But it was too late. I was too late to save her. My knees hit the floor my hands reaching for her lifeless body before I realized I’d somehow transported myself to her side.

I remember the blood. It filled everywhere.

So did skin, parts of her skull and the her brain matter.

I remember her eyes – open, still, looking up at a sky she could finally rest in – and I remember that I couldn’t close them no matter how many times I tried.

All around me was chaos. Voices, sirens, my father’s friends pouring into our house like ants. They’d been too late as well. I just knelt there, unable to move, unable to do anything. I couldn’t even cry.

Back in the present, a tear slid down my cheek. I opened my eyes slowly. So much had happened since then. But I know I’d never gotten past that. Seeing it mom like that. Seeing her give up like that.

I never understood why she did it. I never understood what would make her go so far, but I was beginning to realize what it could me.

Dr. Fields was beside me, quiet and present, a box of tissues on the cushion near my hand.

“Take your time,” she said softly.

I sat up and pressed the tissue against my face and breathed.

“Adrienne,” she said after a moment, “I’d like to recommend medication alongside our sessions. What came up today has been buried for a very long time. You need more support than sessions alone can give you.”

I looked at her.

I thought about the pregnancy. About the decision I had already made without telling a single person – except Arlene. Medication would make certain things complicated. But I had already decided about the pregnancy too.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll take the medication.”

Dr. Fields nodded, relief settling on her face. She reached for her notepad and began writing.

We didn’t spend much time in the session after that. After prescribing the medication I was to get, she let me leave, ending the session with my promise that I’ll e back in a few days for a follow-up.

By the time I emerged from her clinic, it was already evening and I had one message waiting for my reply. Standing on the pavement, I opened my phone and pulled up Marcus Warren’s message.

I typed back slowly. I’m available this weekend. What is this meeting regarding?

I stared at the screen, waiting for his reply which came almost immediately.

“Come alone.” It said, not really stating the reason. “And Adrienne – don’t let anyone know about this.

Now my interest was piqued.