Page 77 of The Blue Rose
She motions for her water once more, and I place the straw in her mouth. Her hand shakes as she tries to wipe her mouth. My heart breaks, watching my mother get closer to death's door.I grab a tissue and dab it softly; she smiles, thanking me without words.
“Serena, I’m not getting better. I won’t get better.” I start crying harder, and she takes my hands in hers. “Please, I can’t do this alone. I’m in so much pain. I hate the way you and your father look at me.” She coughs, spit dripping down her chin and clearing her throat. “Don’t think of this as me dying, think of it as setting me free. One day I’ll see you again.” She wipes the tears from my cheek. “This is my last wish. I need it to be you.”
Her dying wish. She needs me to set her free.I don’t…I stare down at my mother who already looks ghostly. She’s begging me to let her go, telling me goodbye without ever saying the words.She needs me to be strong.The strong girl she’s raised me to be.
I nod my head, letting the tears fall. She smiles, relief relaxing her muscles.
“Thank you.”
I kiss her head, grab a pillow, cover her face while closing my eyes and set her free. “I’ll see you again, Mom.” Once her monitor goes off, I sit there with a pillow still over her face.
My dad rushes in, yelling at me, asking me what I did, why I did it.
“She asked me to,” I whisper, staring at the pillow.
She’s gone. She’s really gone, and I am the reason why.She begged me, and I told her no. I couldn’t do that. Then she looked at me with such hopelessness and resignation in her eyes, and something in me snapped and agreed. I set my mom free. I’ll never see her in this life again. She’s gone. Forever.
I walk numbly back to my room, shutting my door, falling to the ground, and cry. I hear the sirens of an ambulance outside my door, voices of my dad and strangers talking. I sit like that all night, numb and motionless.
The tears stopped.My life is over. My eyes ache as the sun streams in through my window.How will I move on without my mom? How will I ever get over what I did?
6 MONTHS LATER…
After work, I take a shower, change into my pajamas, and head to my mom’s room to tell her about my day. Walking in, Mom is sitting up in bed, deep in a new book, a content smile on her face. When she sees me she beams and sets the books down, taking off her glasses and placing them on her night stand.
“How was work, honey?” she asks with the brightest smile on her face.
My mom is so beautiful with straight black hair, and eyes as blue as mine.I hope to look as good as her when I’m her age.She ages so gracefully; not a wrinkle in sight. The sickness she once had slowly faded away. The new clinical trial she was put on seems to be working, and it’s like she never had cancer at all.
We’re so lucky. I’ll never let any of us forget that.
“Work is work; whatcha reading?” I ask, plopping down next to her on the bed. I’m the youngest person working at Salem's busiest art gallery at just twenty-three years old. I couldn’t believe it when I got the call saying I was hired. The whole family celebrated; we went to our favorite Italian restaurant, then froyo after.
“Just a new romance book I found when I was browsing the bookstore.” She says with a slight blush, embarrassment lacing her features. Mom loves her spicy books, I don’t know why she feels so embarrassed to tell me about them. We all have our hobbies. Mine is art, and hers is book porn.
I lean on her shoulder and grab the book from her lap, placing the bookmark in it, before putting it next to her glasses. “Oh yeah? Tell me about it.” She launches into her story, all earlier embarrassment about her book forgotten. This one is about monsters and has tentacles and things that shouldn’t intrigue me but do.
Her words slur together, and she yawns, telling me she’s tired. It’s only four in the afternoon, but naps are the best for her continued improvement. So, I kiss her forehead and leave her room.
I start making dinner; Dad’s working late tonight again.I have a feeling he’s cheating on Mom.He’s been working late every night for several months and he comes home, a smile on his face, smelling of a woman who isn’t my mother. I will confront him one of these days, once I have the proof. He won’t get away with hurting Mom like that. She deserves better; I thought he loved her, but I guess love fades away if it was never true to begin with.
There’s a knock on the front door, making me stop chopping the onion.Who could be at the door? I’m not expecting anyone.I leave work at work, and I don’t have any friends. That night I told mom about kicking Jessica to the curb, that is exactly what I did. She hasn’t been a part of my life since that night, and I couldn’t be happier. Less drama, less stress.
I open the door, and freeze, my face morphing from shock to anger. Standing there is a face I haven’t seen in months. Blonde hair shining, brown eyes, looking like the shit she is.Jessica. “What are you doing here?” I say, crossing my arms, disdain lacing my face.
She pushes past me, ignoring my question. “What’s for dinner? Smells good.”
I shut the door behind me and stomp back to the kitchen. “I’m going to ask again; what are you doing here?”
She turns around, fake sadness in her eyes, “That’s no way to treat your best friend.”
I scoff, “Best friend? We haven’t been that in a long time.”
She places her hand over her heart, and in a mocking tone, says, “That hurts, Serena, I would have thought after your Mom died-”
“What?” I ask, eyes squinted and brows pinched together.
“What?” she asks back.
