This is just a little piece that came to my mind while writing the next chapter to "The Long Way Around." Hope you like! Reviews would be lovely even if it is just a one –shot.
Mom's gone, and she isn't coming back.
I should have hit him for what he said about you, Mama. I know it's true, but to have those words flung so coldly in my face hurt more than I ever thought possible.
I never saw your body, so the child in me refused to believe, wanting you to come back and kiss my forehead and leave my room with the reassurance that you'd see me in the morning.
You never came and tucked me in that night. I wanted Dad to do it, remember? He had worked another late night at the garage and I just wanted those few extra minutes with him. If I had known then what I do now I would have hugged you for all I was worth.
I didn't recognize you right away and it made me angry that Sam could. There are days when it feels like I'm forgetting you, but there are some things the heart never forgets and as soon as I heard my name I knew it was you.
That one word was all I needed to hear, as long as it was your voice. But then you gave me a small smile and suddenly I needed to hear so much more. I needed to hear things that couldn't possibly be said in so few words.
I needed to say things. Sammy was pinned to the wall and all I wanted to do was crawl up beside you on the couch and tell you about the past twenty two years. But all that came out was Mom. I couldn't even call you Mama. I haven't called anyone that since I was four years old, let alone said the word out loud. It's too precious, my name for you, and I've never wanted to share it, even with Sam.
You were what, four when Mom died? Jess died six months ago. You couldn't possibly know what it feels like.
God, if he only knew. I let those words slide, because I knew that if I didn't Sam would know just how much I still grieved for you. He'd know that there were parts of you that I had kept to myself. But the argument had escalated from there and I didn't realize until I looked into my rearview mirror that I had actually driven away from him.
I was going to call him but I was still angry, so I kept driving and didn't stop until no one would be able to hear me and then threw myself out of the car and screamed at the top of my lungs. I called him after that because I knew it's what you would have wanted me to do.
You said it yourself once – that no matter what we do, they're gone. And they're never coming back.
I'm sorry, Mama. It nearly killed me, but it had to be said. Dad made you a martyr for his crusade and I hated it. I wanted to honor your sacrifice; I wanted your memory laid to rest in peace, not carried high into battle for a war I no longer believed in. I stopped believing in it the moment I saw Sam go skipping after Dad down his path of self destruction.
I hated it, but I would follow because I told you a long time ago that I would look out for them if you weren't around.
You kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait, I forgot, you don't.
She had just signed her death warrant. To hear that creature speak of you was unholy and it felt like she had just sullied your memory. I had never felt such rage and I felt myself becoming Dad. It was so easy to slip, to let the anger pump like blood through my veins to my heart.
I hit her. Something like my conscience poked me and I knew it was you Mama, because you would've raised me to be a better man than that. I knew that was the body of an innocent girl before Bobby told me and I didn't care. The exorcism felt better than the best sex I'd ever had and scared me to think that I didn't even blink an eye at taking a life like that.
Later it was all I could do to not break down in shame and sob and beg your forgiveness.
You mean why'd I kill Mommy and pretty, little Jess? Because they got in the way.
I wanted to throw up. Hearing Dad's voice say those things so casually made me sick and I knew that at that moment, if Dad had had any sort of control he would have killed himself just to get the demon to shut up.
I mocked it Mama, just as it had mocked your memory because it was the only way I knew how to hurt it. I was desperate to cause it pain and it felt good when I saw my barbs had hit their mark. I accepted the torture because it was a small price to pay in defending you.
I had even accepted dying and was willingly slipping away, but I couldn't leave things the way they were. I couldn't let my family destroy itself like Dad was begging Sammy to do. The voice was mine, but the words came from a strength that I didn't possess and it released me as soon as Sam lowered the gun.
Alone in the backseat I fought to hang on for you Mama, because I knew you'd want me to, but when my head cracked against the window your warmth left me and I gave into the darkness to escape the cold that had begun seeping into my heart.