My Purgatory Hell

Chapter 20

"A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal."
― Steve Maraboli

Austin seemed to have remembered our conversation as he woke up. I was grateful, and as the morning continued to grow old, Austin mustered up the courage to confront Mom. Dad wasn't the greatest with compassion, so we figured we'd leave him out of our mission when we hashed out the details. With the haunting image of Mr. Green and littered beer cans in the back of my mind, I prayed Mom would see reason with Austin's words.

Taking a deep and steadying breath, Austin made his way down the steps. I followed silently behind, hoping he could gather his thoughts before presenting the argument.

"Mom?" Austin called out hesitantly. Our mother was sitting on the couch watching some horror movie on television. Her focus had shifted from the movie to Austin. "Yes, dear?" she asked him. Austin was hardly ever nervous, but in this moment I could tell he was extremely jittery.

"I'd like to pay a visit to Mr. Green." The words were quiet and hesitant as Austin spoke them out loud--so much so that even I could hardly hear him, and I was behind him. I knew Austin wouldn't hear me; therefore, I couldn't request for him to speak louder.

"What was that?" Mom inquired. She frowned as she looked at her oldest son.

Austin repeated himself, only this time a little louder. "I'd like to pay a visit to Mr. Green, Mom." The words were spoken with more confidence this time, and Mom seemed to acknowledge them because her face gave way to recognition as she pieced together what her son was attempting to ask.

"Why on earth would you want to do that, honey?" she probed with confusion. I caught a hint of malice in her voice, but she disguised it well enough that Austin didn't seem to pick up on it. She was clueless as to why her son brought this topic up, and she had every right to be. Why would her son want to confront the man who caused her only daughter's passing? It wasn't right to pin that on an innocent, but she was in denial of what really happened on that unfortunate night. Therefore, Mom made David Green her scapegoat for the unfortunate event. I just couldn't correct her on the topic, because of obvious reasons. Heck, I could hardly communicate with Austin, minus him using an Ouija board and our dream communication. And Austin could see me.

Uncomfortable, Austin shifted back and forth on his feet. "I would like to speak with him."

Mom seemed flabbergasted, as this was a ridiculous request. She turned off the television to give her entire focus on Austin. "Why would you like to speak with him?"

"To tell him it wasn't his fault." Even though the words came out shaky, the words came out firm.

"That what wasn't his fault?" This conversation seemed to be stumping Mom, because David Green would forever be her excuse for her deceased offspring. I understood why, but it was quite frustrating--like I said, I couldn't argue with her. Only watch with agony on the sidelines as the conversation unfolded before me.

"The accident."

There it was--the kicker. Mom seemed stumped for words. It appeared she didn't expect to be approached with this kind of favor. A mental war seemed to battle itself out in her brain. About a minute passed by before she responded. "Okay. I'll take you." The words were strained, but I knew she wasn't about to turn Austin down or deny what he said. There was proof that I caused the accident. Every bread crumb led to me causing my own death, not Mr. Green. My mom couldn't keep shading herself from this truth. "When would you like to go?"

This wasn't discussed on the plan Austin and I hashed out. Honestly, a time frame wasn't in the forefront of my mind at the time. Austin seemed to have thought this out, however. He wasted no time in responding. "This afternoon."