Deserving of More

Chapter Thirteen: But She's Your Mother

The holiday season. A time of togetherness, light, laughter, and joy. Maybe on television or in the movies. Frankly, it'd been a long time since my holidays had been any of those things. If they ever had been at all.

Cara had gone home to celebrate. And I wouldn't dare to impose upon Grace. Or anyone else. So, with me not speaking to the vast majority of my family, it was just me and Lady. And that was fine with me. I needed a break. A quiet break. Sitting in front of the television, not thinking. About anything.

The world had other plans, though. My mailbox had presented me with a card from my estranged mother. With my name misspelled on the envelope, believe it or not. The inside had been words full of useless sap, asking me to call her. We hadn't spoken at all since the day of my king's death. As I lay sobbing into the carpet, she told me over the phone, in the midst of grief barely hours old, that I sounded insane. I yelled then hung up. After thirty-four years of verbal, emotional, and psychological abuse, that was the last straw for me. Insult me as you wish. But anything about my king, and we are done. He is my uncrossable line.

A few outside of my inner circle had encouraged me to call her, not seeing through her mask. But those closest to me knew better. They knew how she had poisoned me. Planted inside of me the demons I now fight on a daily basis. Those who don't understand such situations often say hurtful things whether they mean them that way or not. That I should love her simply because she's my mother. I say that she wasn't. She may have given birth to me, but she was no mother. I consider myself an orphan, with good reason.

I was enjoying my time alone in the quiet, when I heard a message notification come from my bedroom. I sighed, knowing that if it was coming today, it was probably urgent or important, and I should see who or what it was. I flicked my laptop to life and pulled up the message. It was from a younger soldier I had befriended. She was always active on the forums, and kept her eyes peeled for anything she thought I should see.

Her message was a photo. Of Chester and his mother, Cecilia, the Dowager Queen. She herself had made the post, leaving a caption under it.

"This was the last time I saw him, back in May. I miss my amazing son. Please take joy in those who love you and take care of yourselves."

The generalized resentment I bore towards mothers flared up. Especially upon examining the photo. He looked so uncomfortable. A smile so forced. So ingenuine. From what I knew, his childhood was not pleasant. At all. Nor his teenage years. I had always figured his relationship with her had been strained, at the very least. But here she was, portraying herself as the grief-stricken mother. Something in my gut told me that I knew better. That she and Veronica were alike. Faking their pain for the masses to gain attention, sympathy, and whatever else they could get.

I needed to know if I was right. I reluctantly opened a message to Grace and copied Cecilia's post to her.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I wondered if you saw this."

A few minutes later, I received the reply I was looking for.

G: "This makes me so angry! She has no right to say that she misses him! He never wanted a relationship with her after the way she treated him. It was Veronica who brought her into the fold. He was as civil as possible for the sake of his kids, but he wasn't happy with her around. She was so cruel to him. She was never there when he needed her. Kicked him out of her house because she couldn't handle his demons. She left him homeless. Her own son. Sleeping on the streets and in abandoned homes. No real mother would ever do that to their child. She hurt him so deeply. And Veronica acted like none of that ever mattered. Like his pain was nothing. This makes me want to go off, but I know it won't help anything."

M: "I knew it! I knew something wasn't right about this. Chester has/had a big heart, but he never takes/took any shit, either. (I'm sorry, it's hard for me to use past tense still) And of course, as I look at the comments on the post, she is getting a lot of sympathy and support. As if she actually ever cared about him while he was alive. It reminds me of my mother. I bet if I died, she would pull the same thing. Acting like she loved me. This has really hit a nerve for me. I want to say something so much."

G: "I'm sorry that you understand this so much. And I hate that she is getting support just like Veronica. Neither of them deserves it. They both lost the right to say that they love him. But of course, everyone is too brainwashed to see it. It's so frustrating! I hate that I have to be quiet. That I can't stand up for him because it will get me nothing but attacked. I feel like I'm failing him. Letting him down."

M: "You, of all people, are not letting him down. He would want you to protect yourself. If you want, I can say something on the forums. Cara, too. It's what we're here for. To stand and speak for you."

G: "I honestly don't know if it would do any good. But, you can if you like, because this all makes me sick. Thank you for showing me this, though, so it wasn't a surprise."

M: "Sure. I'll tell Cara too. She might want to say something as well. I'll talk to you later, ok? Have a good holiday."

G: "You too. Talk to you soon."

I opened a message to Cara, and filled her in on what was going on, including a copy of Cecilia's original post. I knew she probably wouldn't see it until the following day, but it would be there whenever she was.

In the time I had been messaging with Grace, the post had been shared everywhere. With sympathetic and supportive words. How her heart must be broken. How bereaved she must be. Especially now, with the holiday season. It made my stomach turn. How I longed to stand atop some rooftop in the center of the city and scream my grievances at passersby. I knew such things to be fruitless, no matter how cathartic.

The post showed up for me one last time. In a private group I happened to be let into. They claimed to have love for our king. Yet, here was this post. And an expression of heartbreak and sympathy for Cecilia. Something in me snapped. I don't know what came over me, but I took to my keyboard and addressed them.

"Could we please NOT continue to sympathize with the Dowager Queen? I honestly expected better of you here. You say you love him, but you sympathize with her? You do know she was never good to him, don't you? She didn't fight his demons; she fed them. Made him suffer because of them. That is not the behavior of a mother. She doesn't deserve your support nor your sympathy."

Several comments followed mine, expressing shock at this revelation. A few even thanked me for speaking up in Chester's defense. It made me breathe a little easier, even if only for a moment. My own little holiday gift.

Much calmer, I moved to return the television. Before I could, my notifications lit up again. The General. Mike. Being exactly what we all needed.

"Be kind to one another.

Be kind to yourself.

Show appreciation.

Listen first.

Cut out the nonsense.

Eat something sweet.

Have a happy holidays, my friends.

Make Chester proud."

Mike's sweetness made me smile. That last thing was what I wanted most in the world. I hoped like hell I was actually capable of it. Time would tell; provided that I could keep my own demons, and the symptoms they cause, at bay.