THE HORIZONTAL MUM

I woke up on Sunday morning when the birds started cheeping and the dawn light filtered through my window.
I looked at my video clock and saw it was half past nine. I decided to stay in bed til ten, but then I noticed that I was hungry and I needed a piss. I steeled myself out of bed, got dressed, (not bothering to wash - well, it was Sunday) grabbed a couple of chocolate biscuits out of my secret supply, and went down to the kitchen.
As well as making myself a cup of tea, I took a cup of coffee up to my mother, who was still in bed. I knew it was silly of me to bring her a cup of coffee. Usually she stayed in bed til twelve at the latest, because she woke up at eleven, and it took an hour for her to make herself get out of bed, by which time the coffee had gotten cold, and she had to reheat it in the microwave.
I sat at the breakfast table, drinking my tea, and dunking my biscuits into it. I grabbed a magazine which was for the rubbish and read it. I heard movement coming from upstairs, and thought that Mum had gotten up at a civilised time for once. But the footsteps going to the bathroom were too light for Mum, and I decided it must have been my sister, Helena. I'd forgotten she was home. She was supposed to have spent the night at her mate, Raquel's place, but they had to cancel, because they had falen out since the arrangement.
Helena came downstairs; into the dining-room. She smiled at me, and went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of hot chocolate.
She came back out, with a mug of hot chocolate in one hand, and a bottle of vodka in the other.
The bottle was nearly empty, there was a mere drop in the bottom.
"Mum drank the whole bottle last night," Helena said.
"She's probably hungover then," I said. "We won't expect her up til twelve at the latest."
"That's her routine now," said Helena. "She stays up all night, til three in the morning, then stays in bed til twelve, gets up, makes us dinner, then she's back in bed by two."
"I know." I noticed there was a bitter tone to Helena's voice. Before Mum started her staying-in-bed-all-night routine, we were so close, and always went somewhere for the whole day together, every Saturday and every Sunday. I think Helena missed our days out as much as I did.
"Do you know what, Charmaine? I think Mum's turning nocturnal."
I laughed. "What? Like a vampire or something?"
"No. Like a bat or a hamster."
We both giggled at this thought.
"She's only been like this since she broke up with Phil."
Phil Simpson was Mum's latest boyfriend. They loved each other like crazy and went out for six months, and then, suddenly, he went up North to work, without telling Mum, so she's been depressed ever since.
"Actually, I'm begining to get thoughts that she is a vampire," said Helena. "Her bedroom looks like a tomb now."
We sipped and finished off our drinks.
At half ten, we went upstairs, and did the usual morning routine. You know, cleaning our teeth, brushing our hair, cleaning and dusting our bedrooms. I was so busy tidying my room that when I finished it was half twelve, and I couldn't hear Mum moving about.
Helena came into my room. "Mum's not up yet, Charmaine," she said. "And she should be up by now."
We went into Mum's room, the curtains were still drawn, making the room look like nighttime, even though it was a clear, sunny day outside. I picked up her cup. It was still full.
"Her coffee hasn't been touched," I said.
Helena went over to the window, and opened the curtains. We heard a groaning coming from the bed.
The quilt was moving about. We thought that Mum was awake, so we ran over and jumped on the bed, giggling and squaling. A voice grumbled: "Get off!" And we were tipped off the bed.
Helena and I lay smaning in a heap on the floor. When the wave subsided, we looked back towards the bed. Mum's figure was lying still.
"She hasn't fallen back asleep?" I wondered.
Helena stood up. She went back towards the bed, and poked a willowy finger on the quilt.
Mum didn't move a muscle.
"Mum?" I said.
"Mum?" Helena parroted.
Mum still didn't move.
"Mum, it's dinner time," Helena said. "My tummy's grumbling. Get up and make us some food."
Not a twitch.
I pulled back the quilt. Mum was still lying there, looking peaceful, a dreamy look on her face.
I nudged her. Helena copied.
"Something's wrong, Charmaine. Nudging always wakes her up."
I sighed. Then I remembered Nanny and Grandad. I raced downstairs to the phone, and dialled their number. I told them what was up, and they said they'll be round in five minutes.
When they came round, they tried everything that Helena and I had already tried.
Nanny shrugged her shoulders.
"Shall I jump on her?" Grandad joked.
"No, it'll kill her," Nanny replied.
She turned to Helena and me.
"Looks like you'll be coming to ours for dinner," she said. "We've got a roast cooking back home."

After dinner, Nanny drove us back home. It was two. We both went running upstairs as soon as we took off our shoes, and into Mum's room. The bed had a bulge, so it was obvious that Mum was still in bed. We pulled the quilt back, and Mum still lay there, at peace, a dreamy look on her face.
We went back downstairs; Helena switched on the computer, I watched a movie on TV. "Carrie". That was a bad idea. When Carrie's mother got killed at the end, it got me thinking about Mum. Maybe she isn't asleep. Maybe she's dead... But that was an absurd idea. Mum isn't dead. She can't die. She was our mum...
At five, I was getting hungry. I made myself a cheese toast and made Helena one as well because she begged me. Mum didn't get up for tea.
It was midnight. Mum hadn't gotten up between five and midnight. Helena and I went to bed at helf midnight, feeling sad we hadn't seen Mum all day, and hoped everythimng would be back to normal tomorrow...

The next day. Monday. The first day of half term. I got up at ten and had breakfast. Helena got up an hour later. We hoped Mum would get up at twelve. She didn't. One came and went. Mum was still in bed. At five, Nanny picked us up and took us back to her house for dinner. Helena and I hadn't eaten all day and we were starving. We gratefully gobbled down a delicious pizza and chips, followed by a bowl of chocolate ice cream. Nanny invited us to stay the night, but we said no. I didn't like the thought of our house being robbed while Mum was still in bed, and she gets murdered in her bed.

It's been like that for two years now. Mum staying in bed all day, like a comatose person. One day, we hope, one day, Mum will wake up...

The End, by Charlene Samm