We had horses we rode, we played in the paddock, we swam at the beach, ate berries we picked - I had no idea she was an addict.

She called my dad a lunatic, a full blown hypocrite, all he does is spend his time shooting it.

He says she got him into it, a habit that took him bit by bit. A relationship full of conflict, built on *******. Two people who’s worlds were so far apart, brought together by something that tears lives apart.

The stories I hear, when she left me alone, I put her pill in my mouth like a dog with a bone. I walked down to my sisters school, she didn’t even notice untill she got a call. She fed me laxatives so when I went home to my grand parents I did nothing but had accidents.

She was always healthy though, a child never knows, I always loved to see her, I even wanted to be her. She was my mother, I knew nothing but to love her. I only learnt as I got older, about all the things that took hold of her.

She was always good to me, coming to all the school activities. I looked forward to every Thursday, it was just another school day, I waited for her to come up the hill only for the lady at the office to tell me she was ill. She didn’t make it that day, apparently she was to tired to play. The holidays went by but I didn’t get to see her this time. My grandparents sat me down when they got a call, I didn’t understand I thought she’d be just fine, it was just a cold, that’s all.

As each year passed, she kept deteriorating and fast. We couldn’t stay there anymore, her future was unsure. She could no longer move her legs, the signals from her brain to her body became dead. She lost her ability to speak, laying in her bed my mother was now so weak. No opportunity to get clean, being shuffled from dr to dr complaining of pain, being sent away because she was just another ****** to shame.

If she was never addicted, could there have been quicker treatment. Would she have noticed the signs earlier without the drugs making things blurrier. Tricking her brain into thinking everything’s fine, although addiction didn’t **** her it took away her time - I grew up without a mother, grieving her when she lost her life’s pleasures. It’s hard for a kid to talk and be heard, but not hear her back, not even one word.