He can’t remember a thing.
The teen accused of fatally beating his mom in their Midtown apartment is devastated by her death — saying it happened during an epileptic blackout that has destroyed both of their lives.
“I’m not a killer. I love my mom, she was my rock. We loved each other,” said a sobbing Henry Wachtel, 19, during an emotional jailhouse interview from Rikers Island.
“I miss my mom so much. No one has even given me condolences for losing my mom,” he said.
“I just want a hug. I want to go home, but there is no home.”
He allegedly killed Karyn Kay, 63, on Tuesday morning while she made a frantic 911 call seeking help for the teen, who has a history of epilepsy and takes two anti-convulsive drugs.
“I don’t remember anything that happened, I was unconscious,” he said.
Kay can be heard on the call screaming, “He’s coming after me! No! No! No!” followed by mother and son grunting in a violent struggle.
After a brief silence, Wachtel can be heard shouting, “Mommy, Mommy, please don’t die!”
Wachtel admitted yesterday, “I moan and groan when I have [seizures]. The 911 tape says that someone was yelling, and I’m sure it was me.”
But Wachtel, a student at Fordham University, where his dad, Edward Wachtel, is a professor, insisted he was completely blacked out the entire time.
“I don’t know what happened, I was unconscious. When I woke up, I was on the floor and the police were there. I thought they were there for me,” he said.
He repeatedly insisted he is not a killer.
“I didn’t kill her, I lost her. And one day, my entire life changed forever,” he said.
Wachtel, who was heard by neighbors apologizing to his bloodied mother, said, “I always apologize when I come out of a seizure. I feel like I put people out, and it’s scary for them. I had a seizure a few weeks ago at my dad’s and I said, ‘I’m sorry’ over and over to him.”
He said that during a typical seizure, “My mom would always hold me tight . . . I flail around. I have two scars on my arm from one time when I was flailing and I broke a ceramic coffee cup and cut myself.”
Wachtel said that the night before the incident, he was studying for a psychology test and everything felt normal.
“I thought the only thing I had to worry about was failing my test,” he said. “I stayed up late the night before, studying for it.”
He had asked his mom to wake him up for his test — and sensed trouble in the morning.
“I kinda felt the seizure coming on,” he said.
“I can’t explain it — it’s just a feeling I get before I get them.”
Wachtel admitted that he sometimes squabbled with his mother — a beloved English teacher at Manhattan’s La Guardia HS — but disputed neighbors’ claims that they had a history of violence.
“Sure, we fight, we yell, but we’ve never, ever hurt each other,” he said. “My mom understood me better than anyone, and I understood her.
“I was closer to my mom than any of my friends were to their parents.”
The sobbing teen seemed shell-shocked that his mother was dead.
“In one day, my whole life just changed. I’ll never get to finish school; no school will ever accept me,” he lamented. “I’ll never get a job.
“What’s today? Thursday? I should be at my theology class at 6 o’clock. I love my theology class,” he said. “ I was thinking about becoming a rabbi. I believe in God; I’ve been praying, I’ve always had faith.”
The only time he smiled during the interview was when he talked about his mom’s love for Zumba, the Latin dance-inspired workout program.
“My mom loved Zumba; I kind of made fun of her for that,” he said.
His said his father, who declined to comment outside his Chelsea apartment yesterday, was supporting him.
“I was close to my dad, [and] he told me that my family is behind me,” he said.
His worst fear is that he’ll never get out.
“I don’t want to be here my whole life,” Wachtel said. “I don’t want people to think that I’m a bad guy. I’m a good person.”