𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴)

❛❛chapter five: let it be❜❜

"Fuck." I muttered.

I forgot to brush my teeth and I had just put on lipstick. I ran into the bathroom and brushed them quickly, and then did my hair. My nerves were high, first with making good time and John pestering me. I went down the stairs whilst holding on to the railing. I saw John leaning on the front door with his cup of tea.

"Where are you going? Can I come?" He smiled.

I sighed, "John, I can't-"

"Why can't you tell me? Genuinely?"

"I- Please. Can we talk about it later? I don't want to be late." 

I didn't want to talk about it because if I did I knew I'd cry. Also, I genuinely hated telling people things because then they had the need to fix it. It wasn't theirs to fix, and I didn't want them getting involved.

"What are you late for?" He persisted.

I stepped closer, "It really doesn't matter. It's personal."

His eyebrow furrowed, "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

I reached for the doorknob, but his back made it hard for me to open the door. Both of us were getting impatient. I was more nervous and upset, while he was more bothered I wasn't answering.

"John, please move." I pleaded.

"Just tell me! I'm not going to tell anyone."

"My mum is dying!" I blurted out, "Now, please get out of my way."

"She's... wha'?" His eyes widened.

He moved out of my way. I opened the door and started to walk through my front path. I could hear John close the door behind him and trail after me.

"Liz? I'm so sorry. I can't imagin-"

"Don't pity me. Please just move on." My eyes started to sting.

Just the thought of my mother made me go soft. I could feel the tears start to blur my vision. No, no, no, no, no, not right now, please... John put a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him— if I blinked once it was over for me. 

"I don't pity you. I care about you." He pulled me into a hug.

With that, I started silently sobbing. I hated this so much. My emotions were unpredictable, and I was doing so well too. 

"When did you find out?"

I cried, "Last night."

He hugged me tighter. 

❧October 29, 1957☙
(a/n: play let it be during this)

My mother passed away on October 20th, quite a peaceful death, I might add, but what ensued afterward wasn't. I sat beside her the entire time, and the last conservation we ever had was something I'd never forget. It almost scarred me. 

"Oh, darling, tell me that you've got everything you want." She held my hands.

I didn't understand what she meant. Everything I wanted? Like what? Happiness and love, or like money and fame? How was I to answer?

"I- erm...I dunno, mum." I furrowed my brows. 

I watched her part her mouth as she took in a breath. She had such a hard time catching her breath after talking. She looked fragile but peaceful.

"Are you happy?" She restated.

My father questioned my mom, "Lucy?"

"I want to know if you are happy." She ignored my dad.