She Was My Mother

I saw her the moment she came out of the darkness.

The same woman who had knelt here with my photograph and performed that strange ritual.

Now I could see her face properly.

Life had worn it down for years.

Her eyes were deeply sunken. Wrinkles covered her skin. Gray threaded through her hair.

One hand gripped Julian.

The other held up a photograph.

Mine.

She was looking for me.

Startled, he took a moment to react.

Then fury overtook him.

“You again? Get away from me, you crazy old bitch.”

She opened her mouth, desperate and anguished.

Only harsh, broken cries emerged.

They sounded like an injured animal.

The silver moonlight fell across her face.

That was when I saw.

There was no tongue in her mouth.

“Let go!”

She held tighter.

Nobody else was around.

Julian kicked her hard in the stomach.

Her face twisted with pain, but she didn’t release him.

She glared at him with burning hatred.

Then she looked at my photograph, and tears filled her clouded eyes.

She was grieving for me.

But I didn’t know her.

“Cutting your tongue out wasn’t enough, was it?”

He seized her throat and pinned her thin body against the wall.

His face twisted, cruelty plain in his eyes.

“You’ll never see Stella again. She’s dead.”

Her eyes lost focus.

The words struck her like lightning.

Then she began struggling with desperate violence.

She couldn’t match his strength.

Her face darkened, veins standing out beneath her skin.

“Stella died thinking her parents abandoned her. An unwanted orphan.” Julian laughed. “She never knew her own mother was right here.”

His hand tightened until the woman’s eyes rolled upward.

“Go to hell and find your daughter.”

Her mother.

This woman who couldn’t speak was my mother.

Shock tore through me.

I hadn’t been abandoned.

I hadn’t been a child nobody wanted.

My mother had been looking for me.

All this time.

Tears fell in an unbroken stream.

I threw myself at Julian.

“Let go of my mom! You monster. You’ll pay for this!”

Again and again, my spirit passed uselessly through his body.

Her breathing weakened.

She was going to die in his hands.

At last, I fell to my knees in despair.

I begged heaven to look at us.

“Please. Save my mom. Whatever it costs, I’ll pay it.”

Thunder exploded.

I didn’t know whether my plea had been heard.

But lightning struck a tree only a few yards from Julian.

The sudden crash startled him.

His hand jerked.

My mother seized the chance to breathe.

But she didn’t run.

She drove her head into him with all her strength.

Somehow, that tiny woman knocked a man over six feet tall off the porch.

He hit the ground, grimacing in pain.

Ignoring her own injuries, she threw herself at him again.

She pulled out a pair of scissors and stabbed wildly, again and again, making those raw, animal sounds of grief.

She wanted revenge for me.

But she was so small. So thin.

How could she kill him?

“Mom. I’m sorry. I’m already dead.”

The property manager hurried over with several guards.

“Mom, you can’t kill him. Please, run!” I cried.

She couldn’t fall into Julian’s hands.

Not again.