Chemtober Challenge; Oneshots and Drawings.

FOUR: Mama

CAN WE JUST. APRECIATE. MY CO-CREATOR'S MASTERPIECE???? 

LOOK AT HOW BEAUTIFUL THAT DRAWING IS? The chain, the fact that it's a locket (complete with Hinges!), the BLOOD dripping from the fuckin "WE ALL GO TO HELL," the old-fashioned photo???? DUDE????

He didn't know how to start the letter. 

All he could hear, replaying in his mind, was the things he and his mother were shouting at each other. Those horrible things.

It had been a year, since. A long time to go without speaking to your mother. At least, he thought so.

He was sick. Possibly dying. Should he even tell her that?

No... No, they haven't spoken or written in too long. That can't be what he opens with. He didn't want her for sympathy. He just wanted to feel home again. At least one more time. And he hoped he would find that again in her.

He took a deep breath, and then pressed the pen to the page.

"Dear mama,

I have proved you right, and all the horrible things that you said were going to happen, happened. Remember when I tried to tell you he would never leave me? Well, he did. But it wasn't for the reasons you said. 

He told me once that I would never be happy until I patched things up with you, and I didn't believe him then. Then some other things came up, and then he told me he couldn't stay anymore. I've been living alone for almost three weeks now.

Remember when we were fighting, and you told me that you wish I was a baby girl? I do, too. Then maybe I wouldn't have been so much trouble for you. So I wish I was a girl. You should have raised a baby girl. 

I could have been a better son. I don't regret most things, but you deserved better than what I was. At least to you. I shouldn't have said those things about you that night. No matter how angry I was, whether it was wrong or right, I should never have spoken it. It wasn't my place to talk about you and dad like that. And it was none of my business what you were telling your friends. 

I didn't know dad for very long, and I did feel like you were hiding him from me. But what I did was wrong. So, if you really want me to, I'll leave you alone. You told me not to return, so this will be my final letter out to you. Please don't blame me, if you do end up never responding. I'm reaching out to you this one last time to give you the decision.

But if you do forgive me, and I hope to god you do, will you write me back? I want to repair this. And I hope you do too. I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. I was horrible to you. But can you choose to love me despite that? I'm afraid I don't have long.

I am sorry, Mama. I am so sorry.
-your baby."

His tears stained the page and smudged the letters as he penned the two final words. Then without looking back over what he wrote, he folded the paper in half and slid it into it's envelope.

It would be torture, waiting for a reply that may not come.

~ ~ ~

Exactly one week later, it was another cold and windy day in October. He was off to check his post office box on the way home from work, as he was waiting for a check. He wondered, for a moment, if his mother may have written back yet, but he brushed the thought off, knowing that she may have only received the letter yesterday, because of Sunday not being a day for delivery.

He opened on the P.O. box and shoved his hand into it, digging around for the small stack of things in it, and when he took the stack out, he saw the check that he'd been waiting for, and then a small, very thick pink envelope addressed to him. In his mother's handwriting.

he nearly dropped the rest of the mail. "Mama?" he whispered shakily. Had she forgiven him? Did she really still want to love him? Or was this another push away? Could her response just be another nail in his more-than-metaphorical coffin?

He glanced around, as if worried that someone was watching him, and then he rushed out, going home as quickly as possible.

Dropping the messy pile of papers onto his dining room table, he quickly snatched up the pink letter and tore it open.

Upon reading the first lines, he burst into tears.

"Dear son,
Please don't let that be your last letter. I miss you so much it hurts.

I need you to know that I'm glad you're my baby, boy or girl. I never should have said what I did, and I never meant it when I told you never to come back. I was angry. Not at you, but at me. I failed you, baby. In so many ways, and I am so, so sorry. Even if you were born a girl, I would have still made those same mistakes in your life, and blamed you for things that were never even in your power to control.

I love you, my sweetheart. And I'm the one who should be sorry.

I wasn't hiding your father from you, I was hiding you from him. He was dangerous and abusive. I hate myself for it, but I was so relieved when he died. Even after I'd moved him out, he still threatened to come back and hurt me again. So when he did come back, I couldn't stand to let you alone with him. You weren't even a teen yet. I didn't know how to explain it to you. When you were sneaking out to see him, I know now it was just because you needed a father, but I was so scared, baby. I shouldn't have hit you.

I'm not angry. I promise you. I miss you so much, and the only thing I want to do is hold you again. You know where I am. Come home to me.

He cried quietly, his fingertips tracing the blurred lines smudged with her own tears. He whispered to himself; "I'm finally going home."

i seriously considered having his first letter get lost in the mail lol I need help

I am... so fucking disappointed with this one. I've just been so damn busy. It's hard to housesit and babysit and write/post daily. October is just so fucking swamped for some reason. I don't know how I'm jobless and still this fucking busy. it's honestly upsetting. I've got three birthdays, at least one sleepover (one's still in the air), and I gotta schedule my guitar lessons, and various appointments(?), and which dates I can serve for Sundays at my church/go to practice (I sing for Kids as well as the main service). I'M LITERALLY SO BUSY WHAT THE FUCK. where are my WEEKENDS??? where did my sleepy autumn go????? and I literally JUST REALIZED I HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED LOOKING FOR MY HALLOWEEN COSTUME PARTS. FUCK. LMAO I AM STReSSING

fuckin anyways. jesus. (I'm actually fine tho don't worry about me xoxo)

10-4(technically5)-21