Mother and Son

I’m here, Richie. I can’t bear shutting the door in day-time, and locking.
What have I done to deserve this? How did I get like this? What the hell is going on?…
Dad's died, has he? You didn’t tell me. I was hoping against hope he was alive. I love you so much. I decided I was going to walk but I didn’t know which way to go.…
It’s put a sort of red mark on my arm. It’s nothing.
[The killing cancer spread was beginning to show on Mums left arm.]
I want to be with you. – The only hope I’ve got…
What do you think they’re doing this [for]?...
They all work for the same cause, and don’t you forget it.
It makes me sick, to think about it.
Are you there, my sweet-heart? I know you are, and I love you. I’m not blaming you. I don’t know [what to do] unless I run away.
The help is nothing. It’s stupid. You know damn well it’s never coming. I don’t care; you do as you like. I have no faith in that.
I love you; I shall die loving you. I’m sat in this empty bloody room. I’ve nobody to talk to. I might as well be dead, without this. How can I live without a friend or relative?
Where are you?
In me bed-room. I mean, can’t [you come]? My health is deteriorating [-- tragically true -- ] and I’m unhappy. Other people got out. They got Win out. [Ella names residents after former friends. The care home moved a resident friend to another level.] And I’m going to die; I know I am. What else can I do? Horrible bed and walls in this horrible place.
It’s not me, it’s the council.
It’s no good, day after day, night after night; it’s a nightmare. Every day, without any friends, any relatives, nothing. I’m fed up with it. I’m thinking [can’t you get me out of here]?
I can’t do that; it’s against the law. [What Ella called a wicked law: deprivation of liberties.]
[It’s a free country, isn’t it?]
Not any more.
No help, nothing. It just goes on and on and on. And I die, in between. What have I done? – Nothing. Just helped people, all my life. Never had anything special for myself. Once you're tied-up, nobody can help you. And I’m stuck in this bed-room, and I’ve no hope. It’s not a haven. It’s one poor old girl.
Everybody’d be too old, to get me out. [Ella is thinking of her relatives, who have passed on.] I worked best I could. I looked after me family. What the hell is wrong with this world? – I’m not even going to talk about it. You can’t change the local law; never mind. What’s wrong with this bloody world?
[I have tried to get you home.]
I know you have. But it doesn’t work. You’re too good for any of ‘em. You have to do things different.… Long lonely nights; nothing to look forward to.
I’m sorry, I can’t expect you to do [for me]. People aren’t [obliging]. Your way is too official. I don’t know what’s up with it. Even I was better…
Lips are red raw; I’m sat in this horrible place, and I don’t know who’s coming in, next.