Read Part One First If You Haven’t Yet Or This Probably Won’t Make Much Sense
Transition – Part Two
As she stepped into the dim living room, another memory passed before her eyes. She and her mother sat in front of the TV, watching a movie. It was about a family that had a rough life. One of the kids left home, and after years of struggling, she became successful. She returned home victorious, and brought her family from the brink of ruin. She felt safe then, sitting on her mother’s lap and letting her gently brush her hair as they watched the show. She remembered the feel of it, as if she could feel all the love of a mother for her child coming through those bristles. “You see? That’ll be you, my little Kip. You’ll make it out of here someday, and we’ll be so happy, just you and me.” She smiled up at her mom then, knowing that if her mom thought she could do it, then that’s what would happen. Later her mother had drunk herself to sleep. She was five then.
She felt something wet against her cheek and touched it in wonder. One tear coursed down her face. She nodded to herself. That is as it should be, she thought. Just one. She pulled the ear of corn that she had brought back with her from inside her leather jacket. With a purposeful stride, she walked towards the kitchen, stepped over the wet broken glass, and looked down at her mother. She was pale, and the glazed eyes stared up at the nicotine-stained ceiling. She had been pretty once. She placed the corn on her mother’s breast. It was complete now, like a full circle come round. Now for the last of it, she thought once more. Quickly she packed some clothes and necessities, her mother’s small savings, and anything of value she could easily carry. With a last quick glance at her mother’s body, she left the only home she’d ever known. She drove away, stopping only at a pay phone near the entrance of the mobile park. Nine. One. One. “Hello? Yes, my mother has had a heart attack. Please hurry! I think she’s already dead….I’ve…no, I’ve…I was gone. She was like that when I came home. Hurry, ok?” She gave the address, then slowly hung up. As she drove away, she could see the red lights grow brighter behind her as she headed for the highway.
Wow. Powerful story Morgan. Thanks for sharing it! Please post more of your stories!
Thanks! Unfortunately I’ve lost many of my writings and poems and such. I do have some still lying around, but I used to have several journals FULL of writings that date back to my junior high days. They were all lost when a friend of mine died of AIDS while I was out of town on an extended leave, and he was storing much of my stuff for me. To this day I wish I had them back.
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