I had a dream. I was back in that nasty slum. That dark filthy cave we used to live in.
I saw her and she looked happy. She reached out to me. I wanted to touch her hand but I couldn't move so I stood there and watched her. She couldn't get up, her legs were lifeless like they didn't have bones.
Desperately she extended her arm as much as she could to reach me but it was hopeless. She tried to drag half of her body towards me and as she struggled I noticed that trail of blood from underneath her skirt. She started to convulse violently.
I wanted to run to her, but I wasn't there to save her. I was there to watch her die.
So much suffering. I felt the tears run down my face.
Then she gave up. Looked up to me. The greatest horror I've ever seen.
She wasn't my mother. She was me.