Free Asher: A Second Chance Novel by Kylie Walker

helpless.
    **
    When Asher got home he sent the nurse on her dinner break and sat next to his mother’s bed again. She had her eyes closed and her breathing was shallow as it had been since she started taking the morphine. It was hard to tell sometimes when she was awake or asleep.
    “Mom?” She didn’t answer and Asher breathed a sigh of relief. He had left Mia and come back home to talk to her about what she had asked him to do but he really didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to do it. He took her hand in his and she opened her eyes slowly. It always seemed to take her several seconds to focus lately. When she did, she offered him a weak smile. They meant a lot to him because he knew how hard it had to be for her.
    “Hi baby.”
    “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry about earlier.”
    “It’s okay. I know I’m asking way too much. I would do it myself if I could.”
    “Shh, Mom. Don’t say that. I’d never let you do that.” He laid his head next to hers on the pillow. He felt her weakly place her lips against his forehead. He knew he had to do this for her, but he never hated anything so badly in his life. When he finally had the strength to pull his head back up and look at her he said, “You’re sure, Mom? This is what you want?”
    She licked her dry lips. “I can’t stand the pain anymore Asher. I’m so sorry.” Asher brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
    “Don’t be sorry, Mom. Don’t be sorry for anything. All you have ever done is take care of everyone else. It’s time I did something for you.”
    He laid his mother’s frail hand down gently on the bed and got up. He made his way to the cabinet that held her medications. He took out the vial of morphine and held it in his hand. A chill ran through his young body as he realized he was holding his mother’s departure from this life in his hands. He held both his own pain and the relief of hers. He didn’t want to be fucking God, but since he didn’t seem to be doing his job and his father had proven himself useless once again, Asher would be forced to do it for them. He took a syringe down off of one of the shelves. He had given her the medication many times by injecting it into the port she had in her chest. Her poor veins had been stripped from the chemotherapy long before all of her hair had fallen out and her bald little head still held the tattoos and scars of the thirty radiation treatments she had to endure.
    He put a needle on the syringe and drew the thick liquid into it. He had researched the effects of a morphine overdose the day after he heard her ask his father. He knew she would turn to him next. He wanted to make sure it would be a pain-free death for her if he decided to do it. He had never imagined he could go through with it but the pain in her eyes was tearing him apart.
    Once the syringe was full he twisted off the needle and dropped it into the sharps container and walked over next to the bed. Her eyes were closed again. He hoped that she was asleep and he silently hoped that she would wake up and tell him she changed her mind. He knelt down next to her again with the instrument of death in his hand and slid his free hand back into hers. As if she had heard his thoughts, she fluttered her eyes open and said his name weakly.
    He replied instantly, “I’m here, Mom.”
    She was dying, and in excruciating pain, yet again she managed a smile for her son. “Where is the nurse?” she asked him.
    “She’s downstairs. I told her to take her dinner break. She’ll be gone for at least an hour.”
    She nodded almost imperceptibly and said, “It’s time my love. You have brought me nothing but joy and pride in my life and I thank the Lord for giving you to me. You have always been the strongest one of us. Your father didn’t mean to leave all of this on you. He just wasn’t built to handle it like you were. Please forgive him, Asher. Please take care of him.”
    “I am only worried about you right now,