Stars.
That’s all he sees.
Stars…
She was there.
Black hair flowing down the back of her midnight blue dress. She smiled sadly at him, her kind eyes searching his face.
“Mama” He whispered.
She nodded, and held out her arms to him.
He ran towards her and fell, finally fell, into them.
She held him close and brushed her fingers over his hair as he sobbed against her.
“It’s alright” She soothed. Seth wasn’t sure what she meant, nothing was alright, not since she had gone, not since…
“I’ll be back before you know it, my little one” She continued “You won’t even know I’m gone.”
Seth wanted to shout ‘YOU DON’T KNOW HOW WRONG YOU ARE’, but he needs her, he needs her to tell him that it’ll be alright, even when he knows she’s lying.
But he remembers this, it’s not a dream, a vision, a lucid hallucination concocted by his brain. This is memory and Seth knows what is coming next.
It’s not heaven or hell, but it might as well have been.
Seth’s seven again and his Mama hadn’t changed at all.
He's changed too much.
She gently lets go of Seth and kneels in front of him, so that her eyes met his and held his hands in hers.
“I have to go, my little one, terrible things are happening and I need to stop them for your sake, and everyone else’s. I need to, Seth.” She’s nearly crying now, her hands squeezing his.
“Mama?” The young Seth asks, worry plaguing his face.
“I know you’ll not understand, and maybe you never will, I hope you won’t.” She reaches and hugs him, gently swaying him back and forth.
“I love you.” Seth whispers.
“I love you too” She whispers back.
The next day, she went away, and never came back.
…
There is much debate about if saying goodbye makes death easier to accept.
Seven-year-old Seth didn’t care about goodbyes as he watched his mother’s final moments, writhing on a table in a torture facility via a grainy video link.
Death is death and it hurts either way.
And in the depth of his unconsciousness, he’s no longer seven, but twenty-three, but his mother’s screams are unchanged. He feels seven again, and he cries out like he is.
“MAMA”
…
'Oh now Mama do you hear my fear. It's comming after me' Late night - Foals
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Butcherbirds
General FictionSix years since the oil ran out. Six years since his father betrayed him and everyone else. Six years since his world crashed and burnt. A prince in exile returns to the place where he lost it all, his crown, his people, his friend. And there's noth...
