Numb: The Genesis

XV. Distance

Her eyes widened as they darted into mine. Water welled up at the corners and took its way down her cheeks. Her lips trembled. What was she thinking?

"After all these years... I thought I would have never seen you again!" She wailed and swung her arms around my neck. "I swear I was going mad without you, Hans. Thirteen years! Thirteen years. I've cried day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. You're the only family I've got, my son. Your father, he betrayed me. For what? The sake of the kingdom?"

"Mamma, I've missed you so. I have to tell you though, the Southern Isles is at war. I directed my ship as admiral, but we were overwhelmed by loss of men. Our ship was set on fire. At this point, I don't know who survived." She took my hand and held it in hers. Her lips formed a weak grin, her eyes glassy. "I'm sorry for mentioning all this, I'm just worried."

"Needn't to be sorry. I understand you have commitments of which you must achieve. They do expect lots of you. Are they treating you well?"

"It could be better. I could treat them better, too. It's hard for me though. I've felt weak-"

"By that, do you mean that you've become weak in abstaining from evil?"

I hesitated, "Don't you believe that's a bit harsh? I mean, if you're not strong enough to be good, then you're weak enough to be evil? Doesn't that sound, I don't know, rudimentary? You know, without the factors or instances that have been placed upon me?" Mamma gazed at me with a concerned stare. Her hand let go of its grasp. "You can't be serious, Mamma. Don't you understand me?"

"You have to fight, Hans. I've told you this. Be strong, it's-"

"After all these years, this is what you tell me? 'Be strong?' What do you think I've been doing for all of my life? And just because I can't restrain myself from such matter, I'm not good?"

"Look at yourself, what do you see?" I held my breath. The skin on my face was burning with boiling blood. Mamma stared at me as I stood. "Do you see what I see?" I turned my other cheek and watched the worn hardwood floor creak under my step. "I see a monster." My lungs tensed as I glared at her. A monster? Out of all things she could have said. Monster.

"I've got blood on my hands! I killed a man, even though I tried to avoid it. Does that make me strong? I was too scared to kill, but I did. Does that make me strong?"

"Hans, it's not-"

"Not what? What makes me a monster?" She closed her eyes and furrowed her brows. "Mamma, do you know my wars? Do you know my struggles?"

"Hans, that's not-"

"I've fought for years and years, without you. And I guess I'll continue that way." Her tears were rolling. They dropped to the rhythm of my steps as I walked out.

I thought we would be synchronized. In unison. We've lived with and without each other. We know how it was like to be separated. The distance distanced us. There is a gaping disparity. I didn't see her fighting. She was sewed onto her bed, wailing all day. Me? Not being strong? Who gave her the allowance to make that declaration about me? I'm stronger than her. I've done more to make my contribution to society. What she has done? You tell me.