A Prophet's Tale: A Collection Of Short Stories From A Twisted Mind

The Mother Returns

He woke during the night. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and looked around the grey fog of the night. The fire was dim. There was just enough light to see the twig-like figure of the boy. A small rat scurried over his bare foot. The father stood up and followed the direction of the small rodent which he had thought had gone extinct long within the first year. The man stood back and watched as it ran onto the road's edge and slowly picked at the pale skin of a broken body. He kicked the rat off and dragged its prize on the barren ground from the ankles. They were cold.

It's going to be alright.

A moan followed which formed a phrase, one that he had heard before.

Leave me. I've taken a new lover.

He tried to move the body upon the tarp. The boy moved to his side but did not wake. He laid the body down and found some twigs and laid them between them and gathered the flint and steel from the knapsack and scratched them against each other until a small amber light formed. He looked upon her white dying face. She was thinner than she had been when she left and her body showed signs of suffering.

Why did you continue?

I did not. I gave up long ago.

He has not forgotten you.

I wish that he had.

Where did you go?

Cain found me. I was kept in the dark until I was wanted. I would have preferred it if they slowly ended me bit by bit.

I'm sorry.

No your not.

I am.

Stop.

Please stay.

I can't. I left you. I left him. I still hope that he will follow in my path.

Please.

You didn't get me to stay the first time. Why do you think you can get me to stay the second?

She brought a knife up from her pocket. She stared at the man. The blood poured from her neck. She didn't flinch.

He cried.

The man opened his eyes and saw the boy above him.

I am sorry. I did no mean to wake you.

It is alright.