✓ DYING MOURNINGS, original

twelve : unknown caller

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𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 : 𝐔𝐍𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑

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It didn't fully dawn on me that something was missing.

That I hadn't realized it wasn't where it should've been.

My mother's phone wasn't with the belongings the hospital had given me back, nor was it in her room where I could see it. My mind was racing as I took off up the steps, how could I have not thought of that before? How could I overlook something as important as this?

Honestly, I should've given myself some slack, mostly because I did experience something traumatic and have my whole life uprooted. Not even just uprooted. Torn to shreds, eviscerated from the inside out, had everything I ever known become twisted with lies and sunken secrets deep within my family. 

I had my insides torn out from my naive mouth. 

I didn't want to go back inside her bedroom, wanting to keep the door shut but I knew, somewhere in there, there was an answer to my problems. Whoever she called that night, or whoever called her, knew what happened. They knew why she did this, and I prayed it wasn't my doing. I didn't want to be the one at fault, I didn't want her death to be on my hands. How the realization of what I inherited became such a strong burden she decided to run from it the only way she knew how.

Oh, mama, did you cry because of me? Did you realize I was just like him?

I felt good when I got on my knees near her bed once I entered the stale room. I felt even better when I reached under and found the phone. It must have fallen under here during her thrashing or maybe, just maybe, she put it there for me to find later. 

I liked the idea of her leaving a little secret behind for me, a bread crumb. 

The phone was standard issue, no password, thank god. I went to messages, surprised to only see three. One was mine, another a coworker, and the third was Cage. I wasn't surprised she had kept her old messages with him after he died, it was sweet. I clicked the chat and scrolled through their last messages, wondering if she used to do the same, when she missed him most.

Dated the night of the accident.

Louise: dinner's ready.

Cage: just getting ready to leave the office. blaire not still angry?

Louise: livid.

Cage: i'll pick up ice cream. favorite flavor?

Louise: cookie dough, cookies n cream. get both.

Cage: on it. love you

The text below his last message came the next day.

Louise: I love you.

I clicked away, feel as if I were invading her personal space even though there was no space between us. Only open air created by me, there was no her. Yet, looking at her texts, there was one that that didn't sit well. She only had three chats, so she must've deleted the rest, right? What person would only have three active chats?

I clicked away, going to calls.

There was only one number I wanted to call and it was at the top of her call log.