She never spoke about him. Music was on and the house sat silent. I watched her in the dining room, she sat at the table not even making an attempt to eat her food, her tea sat on the table untouched. I thought she was dead. She just... died sitting up. I kept looking at her and her eyes stayed the same, apathetic and frozen. Talk mom. Say something. What's wong? I kept my outburst in my head. I thought her and Kennedy had another fall out. The silence was very concerning. I was nervous, I didn't want to ask any questions. I was afraid that I would bother her, afraid that if I walked over and tapped her she would just fall over and afraid that if I said anything she would be pulled back into the harsh reality of whatever situation it was that knocked her out. Was it my fault? Did one of my teachers call and tell her that I was behaving badly? Just to get a better look at her I got up to walk down into the basement and watched her as I went. My face turned, everything was ruined. I cursed, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't believe that possibly my mom did this. The bookshelf was empty, all the books lie on the floor stripped of their identity, missing pages and front covers. The dolls in the basement had no eyes and missing heads. The fish tank was shattered, all the pebbles were scattered across the dirty floor. My heart raced from my chest as I stood in the mess. In the moments of slowly creeping back up the steps, I hoped my Mom didn't do this. I made it up the stairs, I was eager to look into my Mom's direction, to see her still sitting at the table. But Mom wasn't there. She was gone.