An addict gets his motivation to recover.
|Bob pushed the glass door slowly, feeling the gentle early morning breeze on his face. The road looked as empty as it was an year ago when he had got himself admitted to the rehabilitation centre. His shivering hands had struggled to pay the cab driver who had got him there, every step towards the centre had taken a huge effort for him, making it appear like a very long walk.
“I… I..” Bob had looked in shock at the blood stained hands of his son.
“One day Bob, one day that is all I had asked you to take care of him” Anita had swiftly picked their bleeding son and rushed to the hospital as Bob stood there in a state of Daze, struggling to make sense of the situation. As Anita rushed out, the only reaction Bob had managed was to sink to the ground with his head in hands, where he stayed till his wife and son came back with huge strips of band aid all over his son’s hands.
“The police is on its way, please tell them whatever you have to tell” Anita interrupted as she guided their Son to his room
“I will change, I will stop”
“It’s too late” Anita sniffed a tear as she stood at the door of their son’s room. “You should have changed years ago” . Anita closed the door on his face as he heard the sirens of the police approaching.
He had pondered every day in the rehabilitation centre, what would have happened if Anita had come a few moments later, would he have been responsible for the life of their son, and this thought alone was enough to keep him motivated in the weakest of his moments in the recovery.
Word count : 295