Stem Cell Research Monologue

Music blared from my cellphone as I folded my laundry. Jeans went in a pile at the end of my bed and shirts were folded in the center. Mom had come home a few hours ago and was napping in her room on the other side of the house, a few walls between us. I heard the front door of our apartment pop open, so I dropped my clothes and ambled out of my room, through the hallway, and into the kitchen.
“Hey, dad. How was work?” He plopped his laptop bag on the kitchen counter with a heavy sigh, turning to me.
“It was alright. How was school?” I hadn’t done any work that day, and the guilt seeped into my bones, threatening to pour out the truth in that I hadn’t done schoolwork for a few weeks.
“It was good. I worked on an essay today, something about stem cell research.” The lie slid out easily. He nodded his head anyway, and I suppose he preferred to believe a lie than upset the truth.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Napping – she got home a few hours ago.” I followed him into his bedroom and looked to my mom’s side of the bed, the one next to a window. It must have been late because lamp lights from the parking lot streamed through the cracked blinds. Where mom’s sleeping form should have been, the covers were turned up and the pillows were missing. “Maybe she went to spend time with a friend?” I suggested at my dad’s curious gaze. A niggling
Friends and family stood and said a few words, my brother being one of them, before one girl stood up in front of the crowd and proceeded to bawl in front of the crowd, talking in circles and uncertain sentences. After nearly ten minutes passed of her crooked speech, I grabbed a tissue box and ran up to her, patted her on the back, and shuffled her to the side. I turned to the filled pews and looked out at the friends and family who helped build my mom’s