\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1416617-A-Mothers-Love
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Mystery · #1416617
A mother laments her mistakes while searching for her missing daughter.
This item is complete fiction. The characters and situations herein are based on no people or situation.

Mother's Love


         My mentor always said what ifs will kill me. I think he was right.

         The bracelet had been given to Kiya in December of 2001. She had been 18 that year. She accepted the gift graciously, but even I could tell she was disappointed. She had expected something grand. I could have given it to her, of course. I could have given her a gift worth thousands of dollars, but what would that gift really do for her?

         To her, the bracelet was a horrible gift, but she wore it and I don't think I ever saw it off her wrist. For such a despised gift, I knew it would prove to be invaluable some day.

         Kiya had been a beautiful child. She was tenacious at times, something she inherited from her late father. I cared for her when I could and my sister took up where I left off. I couldn't always give Kiya what she wanted, but I always gave her more than she needed. Love was all I could give her in abundance besides money. Most children would have loved not having their parents around to interfere with their lives, but not Kiya. She wanted me there and I could never give her that.

She went to the best schools and never had to worry about having enough money to pay for them. Everything she needed was there except me. I was around only when I could be, but never when she needed me most. That was my greatest mistake, I think. Children need their parents, their mothers. I didn't think my daughter needed me and so I stayed away.

         Kiya was being followed by a strange man. He had appeared in her classes and her friends noted his near constant presence. Even they had gotten scared. No one knew who he was or where he had come from, but he was following, watching her. Kiya tried to call me for help but I was too busy to talk to her. I should have talked to her. Maybe I could have prevented everything.

         Six days later my sister called.

         Kiya hadn't been attended any of her classes in four days. None of her friends had seen or heard from her and her boyfriend's mutilated body was found two miles away from the school. Those simple facts frightened me to the core of my being and despite what I was supposed to be doing, I left and went home. Something had happened to Kiya and deep in my heart I knew it was because of me.

         In all reality, I never wanted a child. My life doesn't provide the time, emotions, or attitudes needed to raise children. When Kiya was born, I swore she'd go straight to my sister and stay there, but I fell in love. I lost millions of dollars and more than a few customers so I could care for Kiya those first years of her life. After her second birthday, I left and went back to my life.

         I gave her my time when I could, but there was always another job to do, something else more important, more pressing. She probably believed my work came before her. In my life, it did. I never should have gone to see her after I left but I couldn't leave her there alone with my sister, not after I'd spent so much time with her. I loved her, she was perhaps the only thing on this planet I've ever loved.

         It's been two weeks since she disappeared. After many threats and bribes, I received access to the tracking system. Kiya's bracelet, the invaluable gift I gave her all those years ago was not what my sister believed. It was a tracking device. Highly developed for its time and hidden carefully within the charms of the bracelet.

I know my enemies well. The likelihood Kiya was abducted by one of my enemies is high. I have many. I've tried to keep Kiya hidden, but it seems I have failed her in this, as in everything else.

         The results came in ten minutes later. Kiya was at a warehouse outside of Phoenix, Arizona. Within the hour we were in the air and on our way. I called in many favors for this situation, favors that, in all honesty, I couldn't afford to call in.

         When the plane landed I organized the entire operation. Three people were going with me; simplicity was key. I remembered my mentor's words without hesitation as we moved into place. First signal and the warehouse was secured from the outside. Second and we began to move in.

         Entering the warehouse was like walking through a graveyard. In all my years of life, I've never felt any place so absent of life. The air was stifling and it was still. Calm, complete and absent calm. I've never felt that scared and I probably never will again. The others had entered into separate doors of the building; I had taken the south entrance, hoping I found Kiya first.

         My mentor told me many things about life I never wanted or tried to understand. He helped me when I could not help myself and in the end, I owed my life to him. I still do, perhaps. One day he stopped a training session early with no explanation and asked me to join him for tea. Inside his rooms we spoke of the world. "One day child, you will face such an opposition that you will not want to destroy but you will have to. May it be your job or some other form but you will destroy something you care about."

         Funny, since that day I always thought of what I'd done to Kiya. Perhaps that was his meaning, perhaps not. The more I think, maybe he knew. They say people can see the future as they near their death; he died two weeks later.

         The building was dark, but I daren't turn on a flashlight. I listened. Death was in the air.

         A gunshot. I stopped, listened, took a breath but I couldn't get any air into my lungs. I looked down, blood seeped through my clothing and I turned.

         My lovely, precious daughter held the gun.

         "Hello, Mother," she said. Her voice sounded beautiful, but she looked just like me. I had wondered who would take my place when I died. Now I know the answer.
© Copyright 2008 NaNaeRenee (nanaerenee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1416617-A-Mothers-Love