Page 24 of Rockstar Retreat

And really, no one had ever bothered before. Had I been there with my mom instead of out in the city turning myself into a famous singer, I might have been able to prevent it all.

My past wasn’t exactly the best, what with my abusive dad and my mom who just stood by and watched because she was too afraid of having his wrath forced upon her instead. So she sacrificed her own child.

That was hypocritical of me though. Just because I was her kid, didn’t mean she had to put herself in the line of fire for me. If it had been her instead of me, I might have been relieved that Dad just left me alone. So I couldn’t fault her for not wanting to get hurt, but that didn’t stop me from hating her for it.

The second I could get out of there, I did, and I never looked back. I worked my ass off, got signed and became famous. Of course, my past wouldn’t just remain in the past. Somehow, my mom got a hold of me, and she started to ask me for money. Really, I was surprised my dad didn’t try it first, but I didn’t ask why.

I refused. And, not long after, my mom killed herself.

“Do you know why…?” Sharon asked softly.

I snorted, finding it a little funny how her thoughts were somewhat aligned with mine.

“Oh, I know why,” I muttered.

Not that I could tell her. That I practically killed my own mother. She never did anything for me, but that didn’t change who she was to me, and I ignored her, only to receive a call from the local police that she was found dead, and my number was the last she called before it happened.

After the shock, guilt had set in. It was so heavy, too, that I spent a whole week holed up in my high rise apartment, just crying my eyes out and trying to function normally. The guilt only grew heavier, and eventually, I realized I needed release of the worst kind. Searching for that relief was what sent me off the rails.

“Would you mind telling me about it?” Sharon asked tentatively.

I sighed, and leaned back on my arms, stretching out my legs. I refused to look over at her. She probably felt awkward with the silence between us, but I didn’t feel like filling it with chatter. But…

I really wanted to tell someone, so at least one person knew about it. So it wasn’t just me with this big secret eating me up inside. Yeah, there were other people that knew, but they weren’t people I could talk to, and in spite of what had gone down between us the past few days, I did trust Sharon a lot.

Not the whole story, maybe, but enough to explain things to her.

“So, I don’t know if anyone in town ever realized that my dad wasn’t exactly the nicest guy around,” I started slowly.

“Uh, I think they did,” Sharon said in attempted humor, releasing a strained laugh. “He wasn’t really liked by a lot of people, actually.”

“Yeah, well, add me and my mother to that list. Though I think I deserve to take the top spot as the person that hates him the most after all the shit he gave me growing up.”

“I’m going to guess it was bad,” Sharon muttered.

“It was so much more than just bad, Sharon. If I could kill someone, it would probably be him. And the thing is, my mom never did anything about it. So really, I hated them both.”

Again, I could tell she was hesitating, carefully considering what she wanted to say, if she wanted to say anything at all. I didn’t have to look to know because, in the short time since we’d reconnected, I knew she was the kind of person that thought through her words.

“What happened when you left town? Everyone was so surprised when it happened…”

“It wasn’t exactly planned. I’d saved up some money and one day I just decided, what the hell. I got up and out of there so fast. About a year later, I had fame. Then my mom contacted me, asking for money.”

“You refused, didn’t you?” she intuited. “That’s why she did it.”

I nodded slowly. I always knew Sharon was smart.

“Jerrik, you have to know it’s not your fault, don’t you? You weren’t responsible for your mother’s actions.”

I huffed out a little laugh. “Are you reading my mind or something?” I muttered. “And yeah, it’s not like I don’t know. I stopped thinking of either of them as my parents a while ago. Getting the calls, though… first from her, then the cops, what else was I supposed to think? I just felt so guilty. I tried to tell myself, and still do, that it’s not my fault. But the guilt just… it doesn’t go away, Sharon.”

I turned to meet her eyes and smiled sadly.

“For the rest of my life, I’m going to be thinking that I killed my own mother. And nothing can take that feeling away from me.”

I told her the truth. They say that talking about feelings should make it feel better. Getting it off your chest. That’s what Tom said to me. Even a few friends that asked, but they never wanted to know the real reason that I felt so fucking cold inside.

They all lied.

Voicing it didn’t make it better. It just made it worse!