Page 6 of Dove

4

Kincaid

My mom stroked my face, brushing a blonde strand of hair behind my ear. I stared into her gray eyes, the same color as mine, as I tried not to cry. I clung to her hand, not wanting to let her go. Her skin was papery and pale. It was the end. I could feel it. The air was heavy with sadness and death.

A part of me wanted to look away. Wanted to shield myself from these last moments. I didn’t want to remember her this way. Frail and lost. But I refused to let her die alone, and there was no one else. No aunts or uncles. No friends. Certainly not my father. I was all she had, and she was all I had. And soon, she would be gone.

I would be alone. Truly alone. I would be floating in space without my anchor. Without the person who grounded me to life. The one who’d given it to me. The one I stayed alive for. I’d never lived without her. I wasn’t sure I could. Wasn’t sure I wanted to.

How could I go on without my mother? My best friend.

“Live.” Her voice croaked as she spoke. She could always do that. Read my expressions to know my thoughts. “Don’t let yourself die because of this. Your life is a precious gift. Don’t let it go.”

“Mom.” I didn’t bother hiding the tears that rolled down my cheeks. They felt warm compared to the chill that had seeped into my veins. Her words pressed against the dark places in my mind. The ones that had started to take over since she’d gotten sick.

“Promise me? All I ever wanted for you was to be happy. It’s okay to be sad when I’m gone, but don’t let it consume you. Find a way to be happy again. Find your happiness and grab onto it. Don’t let it go.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I shook my head. I couldn’t talk. Couldn’t tell her all the things I felt. She already knew. We’d spoken enough over these last few months. I rested my head on the mattress next to her. I counted her breaths as her chest rose and fell, shifting the hair on my head.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

* * *

I woke abruptly; the dream of my mother shoved back into the darkness. I peeled my eyes open, flicking around the small room, trying to figure out what had startled me. I wanted to go back to sleep. Wanted to see my mom again.

My eyes were slits, and my vision blurry as I tried to see past the haze. Something told me I should be cold. That my body should have been shivering, but I couldn’t care. I felt nothing. I wasn’t even sure I had a body anymore.

Shouts carried to me through the closed door. Reminding me I was being held hostage. I tensed, waiting for the door to open. They kept coming back, hosing me down and whispering vile words into my ear. Torturing me with my own desires. With the things Maddox did to me. I had no sense of time or how long between each assault. It just never seemed to stop.

I had the vague thought that maybe they were arguing over how to kill me. That maybe it would finally end, and I could find some peace in my dreams. That’s when the gunshots started.

Rapid fire; echoing around the concrete as if they didn’t know what they were aiming at. A part of me wanted to sit up. Prepare for what was coming. Defend myself. But I couldn’t move. I was weighted down. Or maybe I was afloat.

My mother’s voice slammed into my mind, telling me to live. I whimpered as I thought of her. Or just giving up and joining her, the way I’d imagined doing it a hundred times before. But I couldn’t.

I groaned as I rolled to my stomach. I tried to lift myself, but my fingers were numb. My arms weak. They wouldn’t listen to my commands. The cold, wet concrete didn’t even register in my senses. I didn’t feel the puddles of water beneath me.

It was as if I was floating again. There were no surroundings. No pain. Finally.

I stopped trying to fight. It was a waste of energy. What was coming would come. I wouldn’t be able to stop it. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

I closed my eyes and tried to pull forward the dream I’d been having. My mom had been talking to me. It had been her last words. I hadn’t thought about them since she’d died. I’d buried that day in my memory. I didn’t want to remember her that way. Frail. Sick. Gone. Why had my mind conjured that image?

Maybe this was the end. If there was an afterlife, I wondered if it’d get to be with her. Probably not. She was kind and sweet. Nothing like the darkness and depravity that lived in me. What a disappointment I must be to her. Her only daughter a freak. Tied to a demon.

Instead of seeing my mother, his face came to my mind. Dark hair and soulless blue eyes; brightening for me. I felt his touch as if Maddox was really here. I heard his deep voice; telling me to stay. To choose him.

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