Mother's Kiss

Prologue

Melodi Black

Friday, February 13th, 2060

It was during one of those freezing February blizzards; rare, but memorable. The weather seems to be getting colder every year. Even in the South, I guess it's normal to see the temperature go below 20 degrees. Is it suppposed to get this cold in a typically warmer state? That's how I feel about my life. Just cold, harsh, and very slow. When will life finally warm up to me? I guess at this rate, never.

My name is Melodi Black. I've lived in the same neighborhood my entire life. Life in Montgomery, Alabama has never been eventful, especially since most of my life has been only with my aunt. Even though we've really struggled, we've always sticked together. But now...it's all a black and white story.

I had lived alone with my aunt Diana for about ten years now, and over the years I noticed something increasingly wrong with her. She began forgetting things - normal everyday things - more commonly than a woman in her mid forties. Bless her soul, she began to forget where she placed things, or she would often forget that she had something boiling on the stove. And talking to her was...both depressing and terrifying. I couldn't bare to watch her suffer. Since it was always me and her, she was like a mother to me.

At first, it was a usual, biweekly hospital visit. They didn't tell me anything. I could tell that the nurses wanted to tell me something, but they just couldn't then. Not until today, by the stay-at-home nurse, Janet. Just her arrival to my home confirmed my deepest anxieties. She had a terrible, sad look in her eyes as she hugged me. She sat down with me on the couch, a total stranger, and held my hand. She looked me in the eyes empathetically and told me. I shook my head slowly. I couldn't force myself to believe it.

How am I supposed to believe that she has Alzheimer's disease? Janet softly told me what it all really meant, how severe it is becoming, and how she's in no shape to take care of me anymore. I was expecting her to burst into laughter, like it was some kind of sick prank.

After hours and hours of crying, and gripping reality, she told me that there is somewhere I can go, somewhere I can live. She said it wasn't a group home, or an orphanage, but something much greater. A wonderful place that solitary children go to - The Whiteheart Household. She assured me that there is still hope. She quickly handed me the phone number before she left to check on Diana.

After wiping the last of my tears and studying the small sheet of paper, I hesitated. It has been ten depressing years living with Diana, and it became stressful. Maybe something great will come out of this; an opportunity to finally start over. After looking around me, at the empty glass bottles and clutter, I quickly called the number.