When she got home,
she was instantly greeted by a squeal.
"Faye! You're back!"
the 8 year old exclaimed,
jumping into her arms.
"Hey, Junie. I got you some food,"
she said, handing over
the paper bag in hand to her.
She couldn't eat it.
She can't.
"What, no food for me?
Did you really forget
about your own mother?"
She looked at the woman
sitting on their couch, with
a bottle of poison in hand.
"Helen. I didn't think you'd
be home so early."
"How many times have I told you,
I am your mother;
call me Mom."
[ She doesn't deserve to be called Mom. ]
She looked over
to the little girl at the table eating
and felt guilty
for not being able to afford
to have her go to school.
[ All because of our lame excuse of a mother. ]
"Where'd you get the food?"
"My... friend
bought it for me."
She didn't even know if
he wanted to be friends.
She cackled.
"You? Friends?"
She laughed louder,
the sound echoing
echoing
echoing
in her head.
"You can't have friends.
You're just a loser,
like me."
She shook her head,
and ran away,
because it's all she was good at.
Running away
from the fact that
she would be like her,
alone and sad.
You were just a phase.
He was just a phase.
High school was just a phase.
Then it'll all be
g o n e .
YOU ARE READING
Blinded Sight
Short Storywe can't change anything about society. it can only change everything about you. #241 in short story § 08.29.16