The Judas Kiss (Part 1)

“Morgan, wake up!” Her teacher slammed the book on the desk to wake her up.
“Let me remind you that this is a classroom not a bedroom.
This is the second time this week you've fallen asleep during one of
my lessons.” The whole class fell about laughing, grateful
for the temporary distraction from their algebra lesson. Order was
quickly restored and Morgan sat up giving her teacher a sheepish
look. “I'm sorry Miss Thornhill, it won't happen again.”
Reassured that she'd escaped any sort of punishment, she opened her
text book and continued with the lesson. When the final bell rang
everyone pushed passed one another in a desperate attempt to get out
of the school building. Morgan was one of the last to leave but was
stopped in her tracks as she heard her name being called. She turned
around slowly, “Morgan I really need your coursework in by the end
of this week. I can't reiterate how important it is. I'm sorry but I
can't give you another extension, do you understand?” She nodded in
agreement not uttering a single word. Her forlorn expression
perturbed her teacher slightly, suggesting something wasn't quite
right.“Morgan,is everything okay? You seem rather distracted lately.” For a briefsecond Mrs Thornhill thought she'd cracked through her students tough exterior, but instead she remained uncommunicative. Almost overnight this one time overly enthusiastic maths student had become a shadow of her former self.

“Where's mum? Why isn't she picking me up?” Morgan was tired and in no mood to go into detail with her nine year old brother while standing on the school playground. She forced a smiletrying her best not to arouse any suspicion. If he was beginning to notice his mother's absence, then surely others must have too. Considering they were half brother and sister, their similarity in appearance was uncanny. Both possessed their mother's piercing green eyes and jet black hair. Morgan never knew her father, she was brought up by Tyler's father. Since the divorce, contact with him ceased completely. He'd quite simply had enough of his wife. Morgan empathised with him, she knew how manipulative and controlling her mother could be. Slowly over time her behaviour became increasingly worse and now Morgan was taking care of the family single-handedly. Of course back then, no one realised her mother's behaviour was due to undiagnosed bipolar disorder. “She's busy today so you'll just have to put up with me I'm afraid,” she said as she fastened up his coat.   He reluctantly took hold of his sister's hand. With his head slumped he muttered to himself, “mum's always too busy.” On the short walk home, she stopped at the local shop to pick up some essential items such as bread, milk and some cereal. There was no way she could rely on her mother to buy them it was all left up to her. To cheer him up she treated him to a packet of crisps and some chocolate.

When they arrived home they were greeted by total silence which echoed
around the house. The atmosphere vexed her, but she tried her
best to conceal her emotions in front of Tyler. Once he was settled
with some orange juice and biscuits in front of the TV, she stood at
the bottom of the stairs contemplating her next cause of action. It
was evident her mother was still in bed, knowing she
probably hadn't moved from there all day. As she watched
her brother blissfully watching cartoons, looking so innocent and
naïve, a momentary feeling of envy came over her. Responsibilities
had been thrust upon her without invitation.   At fifteen years
old she was managing a household as well as taking care of her
brother and her mother. Morgan had become very adept at lying to the
authorities convincing them that she was coping as her mother's
carer.  In truth they had no idea just how much she'd
deteriorated over the last few months. She went upstairs stood
outside her mother's bedroom, and took a deep breath before entering.
Just as she'd anticipated, the curtains were still drawn. The cup of
tea and toast she'd left for her that morning remained untouched at
the side of the bed. The room was bleak and miserable. Seeing her
mother lying in bed like that made her heart sink. The love she had
for her mother was slowly turning to hate.
 

Six months ago her mother had been diagnosed with type one diabetes.
Coupled with her bipolar disorder and her increasing love of alcohol,
it was becoming more difficult to take care of her. Juggling school
work while managing a household was beginning to take its toll. She
would come home to find the breakfast dishes still in the sink, or
dirty towels left on the bathroom floor. As time went by she was
doing more and more around the house, while her mother's energy
levels were depleting. She walked into her mother's bedroom to rouse
her, “wake up mum, come on it's nearly five o'clock and time for
your injection.”   Her mother mumbled something incoherent
under the duvet. Morgan sat on the bed and took a deep sigh knowing
deep down in her heart she'd given up, she was exhausted from it all.
 At her age all she wanted to worry about was her social life
and her school work. As she began to prepare her insulin injection, a
macabre feeling came over her.  In her hands she held the power
over life and death knowing a larger dose could be fatal. The feeling
was momentary when she remembered her main motivation for all this
was her brother. He was the one thing that kept her going.
 
 

Once Tyler was bathed and in bed, she reluctantly started work on her
maths assignment. The last thing she needed was Mrs Thornhill coming down heavy on her. She'd become disinterested in her school work since her mother's rapid decline. At
around 1.00 am she finished her assignment and finally went to sleep,
but was woken again an hour later by her mother crying out.  She
 was exhausted and needed to be up at 6.30 am. She lay in bed
listening to her mother's moans and incessant whining.
“Morgan...Morgan, I'm thirsty.” Her mother's groans were getting
louder, so she put her head under a pillow and ignored her.  Her
mother was more than capable of getting herself out of bed and
getting a glass of water, she'd just become too dependant on her. The
more she did for her, the more demanding she became. Eventually her
moaning stopped.
 
 

The following morning she was surprised to see her mother up and about in
the kitchen. It was completely spotless, and she'd even managed to
put some laundry in the washing machine. Her bi polar caused such
erratic behaviour, something Morgan struggled to understand being
quite a methodical individual. Tyler was already dressed and sat at
the table eating breakfast. With a huge grin on his face, he said
“mum's going to pick me up from school today, and tomorrow and the
next day.”   Morgan stood expressionless in the kitchen
doorway just staring at her mother. The one thing she hated were the
false promises she gave to a small child; and then let him down
leaving her to pick up the pieces. “Really? Well just in case mum
is very busy today, I'll be there to pick you up too.” His little
face dropped to the floor mumbling to himself, “ but I want mum to
pick me up.” As she took a cup from the cupboard Morgan whispered
to her mother, “don't you dare give him any more false promises.
Yesterday you couldn't even get out of bed, who knows what kind of
mood you'll be in by three o'clock today? I'll pick him up, just
leave it to me.” Her mother shrugged her shoulders, giving Morgan a
look of defeat. Trying to quickly alleviate the tension, she gave her
mother a wry smile, “so what are you going to do with yourself
today mum?” With her back to her but smiling at Tyler she said, “
I might paint the bathroom, I'm not sure the present colour agrees
with me. What do you think Tyler, would you like a multi-coloured
bathroom with fish and sharks painted over the wall?” Morgan gave
her mother a sharp look, suggesting that if she dared touch the
bathroom all hell would break loose. With a large sigh she quickly
ushered Tyler to get his coat and bag, it was time for school. As
Tyler was getting his things ready, she looked at her mother and gave
her a cold hard look. “Don't you dare try to manipulate a small
child. You did it with his dad and look where that got you? If you
want to make any changes to the bathroom today, then I suggest you
just clean it.”
 
 

The maths lesson was dragging, her mind started to wonder, “bread,
milk, eggs, margarine, shower gel, toilet roll.” Morgan came
out of her reverie only to find the whole class staring at her. It
wasn't the first time Morgan had been caught talking to herself in
class, she was starting to get a reputation. Not so long ago someone
had written profane graffiti in the girls toilets about her mental
state of mind. To avert their attention she just blurted out, “what
are you all staring at?” These people didn't have a clue
about her life, how she longed to go home and have dinner prepared
for her, or have her laundry done.  Her memory of a having a
loving caring parent was slowly fading; she was envious of her peers
carefree and frivolous manner. It was times like this that she
despised her mother and her afflictions, and was beginning to hate
her own existence. At fifteen she felt trapped between two worlds.
Too young to be considered an adult, and too old to be a called a
child, no one understood. The school bell rang, and as usual the
classroom emptied within minutes. As she was about to leave she felt
a slight tap on her shoulder. “Morgan, sorry I don't want to hold
you up, but I just wanted to say if you ever need anyone to talk to
you know where I am.” Although she was stood right in front of her,
she deliberately avoided eye contact fearing Mrs Thornhill could see
right through her guise. “She's persistent,” she thought.
“I'm fine, thank you. I'm just a bit stressed about the exams, I
haven't been sleeping very well.” The last thing she needed was
some teacher meddling in her affairs. Without another thought she
turned and headed straight for the door, wanting to  get out of
there as quickly as possible. “Morgan, I know you’re hiding
something, but please understand that I only want to help.” With
those words ringing in her ears and her heart pulsating, she swiftly
left the classroom without looking back.
 
 

That evening she sat in silence in the living room collecting her
thoughts, the conversation she'd had with her teacher was at the
forefront of her mind. It was tempting to pour her heart out
relieving her of any responsibility, but then reality set in knowing
it was just a pipe dream. The quietness was disturbed by
her mum walking into the living room putting on some music with a
large vodka and tonic in hand. “Mum that's your third drink this
evening don't you think you've had enough?”  Her mum gave her
a look of disdain and let out a huge sigh. “ Oh Morgan, you're such
a kill joy, can you stop fussing for God's sake. I can take care of
myself you know I'm not an invalid.” Morgan looked
at her in disbelief. “What did you just say?”   Hearing
those words made her blood boil, she became enraged. Her mother
remained silent, pretending not to have heard her.  Like a
petulant child she let out yet another big sigh. Morgan shot up out
of her chair and threw the glass of vodka onto the floor, standing
inches from her mother's face.  “You selfish cow. How
dare you sit there and tell me to stop fussing over you.   I've
put my life on hold for the past six months for you. I haven't got a
social life, I'm way behind with my studies. In fact my darling
mother, I spend half my time worrying about shopping and paying
bills, which isn't normal for a fifteen year old.” At this juncture
Morgan was shouting so much her face was red with fury. “If it
wasn't for me, Tyler would be in a foster home by now and you'd be in
the gutter. You're so up and down you don't even know what day it is.
I'm the only one holding this bloody family together.”  Her
mother sat slumped in the chair, looking like a rabbit caught in
headlights. Without saying a word she calmly got up and went into the
kitchen. “Now where are you going?” With no response, her mother
just started pouring the vodka down the sink and any other bottles of
alcohol she'd hidden. Morgan just stood watching her mother from the
corner of her eye When she'd finished her mother walked past her
without looking at her, shoulders slumped and went to bed.  
Totally exhausted, Morgan fell to the floor and cried non stop.
 
 

A couple of weeks passed, and the tension between Morgan and her mother
had alleviated slightly. One morning while she was getting ready for
school, there was a knock at the door. Before
she had a chance to answer it she found Tyler stood at the door
chatting away to someone. In anger she grabbed hold of his arm and
pulled him away. “What have I told you about answering the door?
Don't ever do that again, it could be someone dangerous. Go back into
the living room and finish your breakfast, we're leaving in ten
minutes.”  He obediently ran off into the living room doing as
she requested.  Morgan closed the front door slightly,
suspicious of the strange woman stood in front of  her.  
“Yes, can I help you?” The woman was busily searching in her
handbag, she seemed slightly agitated.   Eventually she produced
some identification,  Morgan leaned in closely to inspect it,
but the stark realisation that she was talking to a social worker
disturbed her. “I'm sorry to bother you so early in the morning,
but I would appreciate five minutes of your time?”The suspicion in
Morgan's eyes intensified, there was a long pause before she replied.
“Okay, but you'll have to be quick as we both need to get to
school. 
 

 She led her into the kitchen while Tyler sat watching TV. “So, how can
I help you?”   Morgan sat with her arms folded and a
stern expression. “I don't want to keep you too long.  
It's  just a routine call  to check how things
were going, are you managing okay?”   She seemed a bit
agitated, something Morgan had picked up on straight away.   “I
don't believe you. Spit it out, there's something you're
not telling me.”    “Well, the thing is Morgan we
received a phone call recently from someone who is a little concerned
about you.”  As soon as she heard this she jumped up.  “A
phone call, from who?”   There was long pause as both of them
stood staring at one another. “Oh hang on a minute, it was her
wasn't it? It was that interfering bloody teacher Mrs Thornhill,
wasn't it?”  Shouting at the top of her voice, she asked her
again, “It was her wasn't it?” Not giving her a chance to
respond, she just ordered the social worker out of the house. “Get
out, just get out.” The volume of her shouting had disturbed Tyler
and he came running into the kitchen to see what all the commotion
was about.    Looking rather taken aback by the sudden
outburst, the social worker left rather abruptly. On her way out she
turned and looked at Morgan, “I'll be in touch.”
 
 

As soon as she left Morgan ran upstairs into her mother's bedroom. She
was sat on the bed hugging her knees to her chest. “Mum we have to
leave this house, social services have just been. That bloody bitch
of a teacher has been poking her nose into our business. We were
doing find until she starting interfering.”  She walked
towards the wardrobe looking frantically for a holdall bag. “Did
you hear me? If we don't leave they'll put us both into care.”
 Tyler came running into the bedroom shortly after, and jumped
onto the bed  snuggling up next to his mum.  Meanwhile
Morgan was throwing anything she could lay her hands on into the
holdall, while Tyler and his mum sat watching her erratic behaviour.
“Morgan stop, please just stop.”   She was now going through
a chest of drawers, gathering bundles of clothes in her hands.
“Morgan can you please stop doing that?” Her mother said in a
firmer voice. “Sit down, there's something I need to tell you.”
She reluctantly dropped everything, and sat on the edge of the bed.
She'd become so used to being the authority figure in the house, that
hearing her mother's stern voice sounded alien to her. With a
mournful look in her eyes, she looked directly at Morgan.

“It was me. I was the one who called social services, not your teacher.