Free The Brilliant Light of Amber Sunrise by Matthew Crow

eyes shut. But then Kelly rolled her eyes and told me to shut up and stop being gay (she could be quite coarse).
    Then Paul more than gave himself away as a faker by snorting a laugh before giving Kelly a quick glance and closing his eyes again while he fiddled with the volume on his iPod.
    It was at this point that I decided not only was their sense of superiority inflated, but I was to face my long and arduous journey alone. I recorded this conclusion in my Diary of Observations.

    Mum stayed as long as she could on the first day. She kept rearranging the photographs and books I had lined up in perfect symmetry on the bedside table, and I told her Iwished she’d stop. There was method to their arrangement. The books I wanted people to think I read I had placed on top of the pile. The books I was supposed to read were lodged directly beneath, in an effort to shame me into attempting them. The books I would actually read I had placed at the bottom to try to curb the likelihood of my picking them up first.
    â€œWould they not be better off in the drawer? Just taken out one at a time?” Mum kept asking.
    I said not as I tried to work out the controls for my bed.
    â€œOh, God, I think it’s broken!” I yelled as I pressed the wrong button and the whole structure started vibrating beneath me, rippling like an air mattress in a swimming pool.
    â€œGive it here,” Mum said, pressing a button that made my legs start to levitate slowly.
    Across the room I could see Kelly and Paul trying not to laugh just as Mum found the right switch and the bed began to crank back into its correct alignment.
    â€œIdiot,” Mum said, putting the control back in its holster. Soon after both Kelly’s and Paul’s family came to visit and I could tell Mum was paying attention to what they were saying, trying to gauge just how bad things might get, or perhaps even scoring herself against their ability to cope.
    They all said hello as they came in and Mum was­especially polite. I wasn’t in the mood to entertain, so I started pulling my blanket up over my legs, hoping they would take the hint that I was unwell and needed a ­peaceful ­environment. It was still afternoon, not nearly dark, but there was only one seat, so it made sense to let Mum have that and for me to get acquainted with my temporary nest for the next few weeks.
    At one point Kelly’s mother smiled across at us and Mum gave her a nod.
    â€œI’m sure I used to know her,” she whispered to me. ­Kelly’s mum pulled the curtain around her daughter’s bed and began whispering, and then it sounded like someone was crying. I saw Mum shudder and then carry on like nothing had happened.
    â€œI’ll put your sports drink in the bottom drawer, and Grandma sent some grapes along but I left them in the house because they were on the turn. I packed you some multivitamins instead.”
    â€œIt’s all right, you can go,” I said. “I know you’ll be back tomorrow, but you will have to leave me here eventually.”
    Mum went quiet and her head drooped.
    â€œI know,” she said finally, bending down and kissing my forehead. “Do you want me to leave you to get settled in, make friends with your little roommates?”
    â€œI’ll probably just read,” I said. Then saw her shake her head and added, “But I will try.”
    â€œYou’re a good lad,” she said, giving me a hug, “a good, brave lad.”
    She kissed me again and reminded me that her phone would be on all night, and that if I needed anything I was to call her straightaway.
    She said she’d be back tomorrow, and told me to take care. Then she was gone. I saw her walk slowly out of the ward, nodding to Paul’s family as she passed them. The windows looking onto the ward were frosted and had a thin metal mesh. As Mum turned to walk away behind them I saw her blur and fade into a ghost of her own shape. Then