A Mother's Wish
”Mom?” I whisper out in the dark air. My bed is burning, and all I can see is almost invisible shadows everywhere. Shadows, and I can’t see what they really are. I don’t remember what my room looks like, except for that my bed is beside the opened window.
A cold breeze crawls into the window opening, just a little slit. I can feel sweat drops running down from my wet hair to my cheeks. My hands are wet too, I try to take some hairs away from my face, they are pasted to it. Nobody gives an answer to my call.
She must have gone out, left the room. If she were here sleeping, I would hear her tired breathe by my bed. Usually she is here all day, patting me friendly on my cheeks, asking if there is anything she can do for me.
Right now I am thirsty. My throat is dried up; it feels like I am breathing sand. I would have believed that if the window was not open. I push the blanket away; place my feet on the cold floor. White starts are dancing before my eyes, I try to breathe deep, and when the stars are gone I walk towards the bedroom door.
A little blaze of light shows where the door is. When I walk out to the light-up hall, I can hear my mom sitting in the living room. I hear the low music she listens to when she is sad. So, that's why she didn't hear me. The bass chords and the moving vocals are tearing me up from inside.
It is because of me she is listening to that music. The reason she is sad, is that I am dying. This disease is killing me slowly, and while it happens, she is given time to be sad, more time than it ought to be. Her sorrow is my entire fault. And I cannot even make it up to her. I feel like a felonious. Criminal. Nasty. All I want her to do is smile again. Her smile is what I miss the most. I told her once – she tried to smile; she really did. But it never reached her eyes. And while she was sitting by my bed, smiling, tears started to run down her cheeks. They cracked her mild and tender face in thousands of pieces, and her mild and tender being was totally filled with sorrow and pain. I walk downstairs, wait behind the door where I know my mom is on the other side. Her clear voice is singing the song, it’s much too clear. So clear I know she is soon going to cry. I lay my hand at the door handle, but I change my mind. I don’t want to upset her even more. I walk into the kitchen instead to boil some water. She must have heard me. Her face is not at all surprised when she comes into the room. It is just tired.
“Do you want some tea?” I ask her. She shakes her head. The look in her face is just... wrong. It looks like she is the one going to die. I feel so miserable, both physically and mental. My whole body is filled with something feeling like jelly, or maybe vanilla sauce. It’s god damned difficult to stand! I don’t want to get used to feel such a weakness. But it seems I have no choice.
“Are you sure? It is enough water for both of us.”
“No thanks,” she says. “Couldn’t sleep?” I shake my head. Another time she tries to smile at me. Mom, stop, I think, We both know you cannot smile any more, so stop pretending you can. It’s only a thought, and no matter how much I think so, I will never tell her. Because I know it’s her way to support me, say that she loves me, and I will not break her heart by telling her it makes nothing better. It just gets worse when I see all her pain. Instead I take her hand.
“Mom…” The water is boiling; I let go of her, and make tea with a teaspoon of golden, sweet honey. I have to close my eyes when the pain envelops me.
“Does it hurt, baby? Come here.” Her voice is so tender. I lean on her warm, safe breasts. She puts her arms around me and cradles me softly. I swallow.
“Can you turn up the music? It is so beautiful.” She pats my hair, goes out to the living room, the notes fills me.
Still it’s so much clearer. I forgot my shirt at the waters edge, the moon is low tonight…Nightswimming, remembering that night. September’s coming soon. I’m pining for the moon. And what if there were two side by side in orbit, around the fairest sun? That bright, tight forever drum cannot describe nightswimming.
The warm tea tastes good. But I can’t drink more than the half before I get nauseaus. Afterwards I take mom with me to my bedroom. She puts the blanket around me, and suddenly, when looking out through the window, I see a bright shining star at the black velvet sky.
“What are you looking at, sweetheart?” mom asks me. I point out to the star.
“Can you see that star? The brightest shining one of them all?” She nods.
“Yes, I can see it. The sky is beautiful tonight, huh?”
“If I am not here someday soon, that will be my star, mom.” She starts to cry again. But I keep talking to her.
“Then you can watch the star every night and think of me. I believe that when you see a bright star upon the sky, the star is going to breathe you in. Just like air.”
“Good night. Love you more than words can tell.” She kisses me on the cheek and leaves the room. I don’t know if I hurt her. Or maybe she was happy. Before I fall asleep I look at the star. And at the same time, I understand that the star is inhaling me, right now. I feel like I am flying out the open window, through the tiny slit, and out in the cold night. But I am not freezing at all. The night ocean waves are so warm. I am swimming in the night. I get wings, and with them I fly fast towards the moon. I whisper:
“Good night, mom.”
The End
”Mom?” I whisper out in the dark air. My bed is burning, and all I can see is almost invisible shadows everywhere. Shadows, and I can’t see what they really are. I don’t remember what my room looks like, except for that my bed is beside the opened window.
A cold breeze crawls into the window opening, just a little slit. I can feel sweat drops running down from my wet hair to my cheeks. My hands are wet too, I try to take some hairs away from my face, they are pasted to it. Nobody gives an answer to my call.
She must have gone out, left the room. If she were here sleeping, I would hear her tired breathe by my bed. Usually she is here all day, patting me friendly on my cheeks, asking if there is anything she can do for me.
Right now I am thirsty. My throat is dried up; it feels like I am breathing sand. I would have believed that if the window was not open. I push the blanket away; place my feet on the cold floor. White starts are dancing before my eyes, I try to breathe deep, and when the stars are gone I walk towards the bedroom door.
A little blaze of light shows where the door is. When I walk out to the light-up hall, I can hear my mom sitting in the living room. I hear the low music she listens to when she is sad. So, that's why she didn't hear me. The bass chords and the moving vocals are tearing me up from inside.
It is because of me she is listening to that music. The reason she is sad, is that I am dying. This disease is killing me slowly, and while it happens, she is given time to be sad, more time than it ought to be. Her sorrow is my entire fault. And I cannot even make it up to her. I feel like a felonious. Criminal. Nasty. All I want her to do is smile again. Her smile is what I miss the most. I told her once – she tried to smile; she really did. But it never reached her eyes. And while she was sitting by my bed, smiling, tears started to run down her cheeks. They cracked her mild and tender face in thousands of pieces, and her mild and tender being was totally filled with sorrow and pain. I walk downstairs, wait behind the door where I know my mom is on the other side. Her clear voice is singing the song, it’s much too clear. So clear I know she is soon going to cry. I lay my hand at the door handle, but I change my mind. I don’t want to upset her even more. I walk into the kitchen instead to boil some water. She must have heard me. Her face is not at all surprised when she comes into the room. It is just tired.
“Do you want some tea?” I ask her. She shakes her head. The look in her face is just... wrong. It looks like she is the one going to die. I feel so miserable, both physically and mental. My whole body is filled with something feeling like jelly, or maybe vanilla sauce. It’s god damned difficult to stand! I don’t want to get used to feel such a weakness. But it seems I have no choice.
“Are you sure? It is enough water for both of us.”
“No thanks,” she says. “Couldn’t sleep?” I shake my head. Another time she tries to smile at me. Mom, stop, I think, We both know you cannot smile any more, so stop pretending you can. It’s only a thought, and no matter how much I think so, I will never tell her. Because I know it’s her way to support me, say that she loves me, and I will not break her heart by telling her it makes nothing better. It just gets worse when I see all her pain. Instead I take her hand.
“Mom…” The water is boiling; I let go of her, and make tea with a teaspoon of golden, sweet honey. I have to close my eyes when the pain envelops me.
“Does it hurt, baby? Come here.” Her voice is so tender. I lean on her warm, safe breasts. She puts her arms around me and cradles me softly. I swallow.
“Can you turn up the music? It is so beautiful.” She pats my hair, goes out to the living room, the notes fills me.
Still it’s so much clearer. I forgot my shirt at the waters edge, the moon is low tonight…Nightswimming, remembering that night. September’s coming soon. I’m pining for the moon. And what if there were two side by side in orbit, around the fairest sun? That bright, tight forever drum cannot describe nightswimming.
The warm tea tastes good. But I can’t drink more than the half before I get nauseaus. Afterwards I take mom with me to my bedroom. She puts the blanket around me, and suddenly, when looking out through the window, I see a bright shining star at the black velvet sky.
“What are you looking at, sweetheart?” mom asks me. I point out to the star.
“Can you see that star? The brightest shining one of them all?” She nods.
“Yes, I can see it. The sky is beautiful tonight, huh?”
“If I am not here someday soon, that will be my star, mom.” She starts to cry again. But I keep talking to her.
“Then you can watch the star every night and think of me. I believe that when you see a bright star upon the sky, the star is going to breathe you in. Just like air.”
“Good night. Love you more than words can tell.” She kisses me on the cheek and leaves the room. I don’t know if I hurt her. Or maybe she was happy. Before I fall asleep I look at the star. And at the same time, I understand that the star is inhaling me, right now. I feel like I am flying out the open window, through the tiny slit, and out in the cold night. But I am not freezing at all. The night ocean waves are so warm. I am swimming in the night. I get wings, and with them I fly fast towards the moon. I whisper:
“Good night, mom.”
The End