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Rated: · Other · Other · #1703009
A short story of tragic and sadness of what your kin would do to save you.
The door swung open, creaking loudly, grating the silence and tension cloaking the house. Cautiously, I stepped in, fumbling the wall for the light switch. My buff-coloured bag slid down my arm and thumped onto the floor softly. The blinding flash of light that enevoloped the house as I pressed the switch firmly downwards made me close my bloodshot eyes in a rapid movement. I lifted my arms up, shielding my blinded eyes as i stumbled forward, my gray, torn sneakers shuffling against the graffiti streaked concrete floor. Blurrs of red, black, and yellow streaked my vision, just as they streaked the beer bottle strewn floors. Boxes of chinese food packets discoloured the floor with white and murky brown. My eyelids fluttered hastily, adapting to the light as I ambled to the slumped figure of a petite woman on the sofa. Her dull but soft black tresses hung loosely from a knotted bun and wavy tendrils framed her oval face. Her granite-coloured eyes sunk deep into her skull and her mouth clamped tightly, making her jaw jut out like she was a stubborn child.
"He's not here, Alex." her dry, cracked lips moved slightly as her faint and hoarse voice strained to make her feelings known. I felt the relief in me pour out of my nostrils as i let a deep breath out. I hadn't noticed that I had held my breath.
"Oh." Even to my ears, my voice sounded pitiful and frail. I inched closer to her as i sat down onto the dirty yellow sofa. It let out a whoosh of air which passed through my dangling legs as the tainted cotton fabric stretched under my weight. She sat up and winced silently as she angled herself nearer to me so that we were facing each other.
"Comer here, Alexandra. Let me hold you." she murmured like the softest of breezes that ruffled my straggly hair. I cocked my head to the side as I leaned forward and settled into her cool embrace. I felt something cold and hard brush my sides as her arms moved to embrace me. One rough hand pushed its way to my abdomen and a sharp pain caught at the side. My chest caught excruciatingly and i longed to pund my fist on my chest to let the trapped air out. My thin frame shuddered as I panted heavily. I remembered i was wearing my best shirt. Off-white it was. The dark, carmine red streaked across it now and i felt a pang of sadness run throuhg me. Such a pity. It was a nice white shirt with eyelet lace lacing the neckline. Patches of murky green and purple decorated my visioon as spots of white and black covered her face. Its amazing how you start to notice minor things around you when you are dying. Like how her hair was flailing around her face and how her almond-shaped eyes widened as she stared down at her crimson hands. Like how slowly i sank into the cotton back of the sofa and how loud your moans of pain sounded and how your silent sobs shook you. The roughness of the cotton chafed my arms and back as she stroked my hair.
"Had to do it, baby, had to." she was shaking her head like she used to chided me when I fell down. her voice was soothing, although trembling. She bit her lower lip and frowned.
"I'll join you soon enough. Wait for me, 'kay honey? Right after i take care of that bastard." I nodded weakly, staring at the patterned my blood made on my beautiful shirt.
"Sleep now, darling. Sleep." her voice was soft now, like my ears were failing me. It seemed like a good suggestion to me. Just close my eyes and then maybe the pain would go away. "That's right." she cooed as her hands brushed my pale and clammy cheeks.
A jolt of electric shock reverbrated through me as fear and fact closed in. My eyes were wet now, the tears they shed coursing my cheeks. She smiled softly as i felt my eyes contort and close.
The fact was, my mother killed me.
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