I look in at Alex's reflection. His blonde hair in it's classic style, his brown eyes filled with such innocence and his perfect smile. It's hard to imagine him leaving for university in a few months time, the way he has grown and matured from my little boy. I try not to let the tears flood from my eyes but it happens to every mother at one stage of her child's life, when they leave for university, get married, have a baby for themselves.
'Mum." His broad voice calls out.
I open the door slightly and peak my head inside.
"You can come in, I know you're poking your head in." He laughs.
"Aw bless, you always spot me don't you?." We chuckle alongside each other.
But. That was 2 months ago. My son, he's missing. The 12th of July, 3 days before our holiday to Melbourne as a celebration for Alex getting into the University of Cambridge for Physics, he's missing. No where to be found on our little town north of Portsmouth, he is not the type to go out partying or run away, theres no reason for him to. The police have half given up on me, they refuse to carry on the case for any longer than 3 months.
"You know, maybe he's dead. Suicide is a common route for teens who suffer from pressure from their parents, well parent." One of the police offers said, spit flying from their mouth.
But, the silly remark it got to me. I started to think later that night when I got home. Had I put too much pressure on my darling boy and lead him to suicide? No. I cant have, can I? Tears flooded down my face, like a never ending river that went on and on and on.