Dreams or Reality?

Chapter 33: Word of Advice; Don't Scream at Evil People

CHAPTER 33: Word of Advice; Don't Scream at Evil People

Shock.

Was the first thing I felt.

Numbness.

Blinded pain.

Disbelief.

Swirled around me until finally the truth penatrated.

But it didn't make sense to me, how could my mom be dead?

My brain refused to work properly, choosing instead to let me stare at my mother's corpse without thoughts or feelings to describe my horror.

Tears slid down my cheeks in silence.

I was still holding my mom's hand. Holding it like she was my life line, but in the end, I had been her's and I had failed. Her death was on my head.

She had never been home. She had never been there for me. She had never really been my mom, but at the same time she had been. An old memory surfaced in my blank mind.

"What are you doing, mom?" a seven-year-old Faye asked.

"Baking cookies, honey,"

"Cookies?! Really?! What type?"

"Your favourite,"

"Chocolate chip?! Really?!"

"Of course," a timer went off. "time to take them out of the oven!"

"Is that the timer for the cookies?!" a nine-year-old Chris had shouted, rushing into the room.

"Try one," everyone knows that cookies are best when they're fresh out of the oven and they still melt in your mouth and these were no exception.

That was it, whatever happened next was lost to me.

That memory caused something inside me to snapped and I dropped the lifeless hand I had been holding. "I love you too mom," I whispered back to her as her last words to me became jumbled and confusing. I couldn't close her eyelids.

I couldn't make her look like she was asleep.

Then again, with all the blood I don't think anything ever could.

Like in that vision I'd had of Katrina dying I couldn't bring myself to touch a dead body, it didn't matter that I'd just been holding her hand.

And just like that, I was angry, I was furious. At myself, at Val, at Serquin, at the world and just a little bit mad at my mother.

If she had kept Val, she would still be alive.

Reality of the situation is that Serquin himself would've probably killed her and she'd be dead either way, but it's funny how the victim gets the blame.

"Are you HAPPY?!" I screamed, startaling both Sam and Mel who I had forrgotten about. "Serquin?! Val?! I know you're watching, happy now?! Hey Val! Is revenge sweet?! Or is it just bloody? You killed my mother, you bitch, my mother, our mother!" I shouted, fumbling a little with my wording. "You're a murderous bitch! I'll make you pay! You're gonna pay if I have to kill you with my own two hands!" I shrieked, then I dropped to my knees, sobbing once again.

I don't know how long I sat there for. Sam and Mel tried to comfort me but I shrugged them off, I didn't even hear what they said. Eventually my tears stopped. I stared through blank eyes past my mother's body at the now-dried blood that had fallen off the steps.

At some point, I heard a noise behind me. Turning around, I watched the boys fall in a disorganized way out of a purple vortex. I didn't want Chris to see mom but what could I do to stop it? I turned back to the corpse that gave birth to me just over seventeen years ago.