Part Three

The first thing K noticed when he woke up was his throat was sore. Then it was his stomach. Then it was the slow realization he wasn't at home. The blinds were closed and the lights dimmed, so K was sure it was night, but wasn't sure which one. He lifted his left hand to rub his eyes and noticed the IV.
"I hope they're giving me the good shit," he thought, paused and then thought, "right, probably not." He raised up on his elbows to look around. It was a small room, bathroom at the front, a sink beside it a little ways from his bed. Next to the bed was the most uncomfortable recliner he'd ever seen. His mother was in it, asleep. He flopped back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling, tears welling up in his eyes. He thought of the events of today (yesterday?). He looked again at his mother, shifting in the uncomfortable chair.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this!"
"How was it supposed to be, honey?" his mother asked. She sat up, folded in the footpad, and went to his bedside.
He didn't realize he had spoken aloud. Wordlessly, he sat up and sort of fell into his mother's arms, holding her tightly. Then the tears came. DJ held him close, stroked his hair and she cried with him.