I live.
DISCLAIMER: All familiar characters are owned by Aoki Takao. I, however, own the plot, and Brookie's mum.
SUMMERY: A short piece about Brooklyn's childhood; being a bastard child, left at a private boarding academy at age four, being disowned, and having a mother that never really loved him.
Fixing a Mistake
He peeked up at the woman, now only twenty one, as she stood before him. She seemed highly unsure, and uneasy. Her orange locks were gently being pulled at by her restless fingers, and her jade green eyes flashed down to look at him once more.
Everyone said he took after his mother more than his… well… could he call him his father? He had his mother's eyes, her hair color—even her skin tone. Most of his realitives said this was a good thing, for reasons he didn't quite understand completely.
All he understood was that he shouldn't exist and that he didn't have a daddy like all the other kids did.
His small hands carefully smoothed out the dark green blazer he was wearing, underneath that a crisp white shirt, and the gray pants and black shoes. School uniform, he had no say in the matter. Not that he would have said anything anyways…
She shifted uncomfortably, looking around. Their black limo was parked close by, as were many others, and mothers of all sorts were hugging their children close, kissing them and sobbing tearfully before parting with their little treasures.
The driver was already taking her son's suitcase inside, and he was just standing before her, the too-charming, too-cute, too-perfect—
Mistake.
The biggest mistake she'd ever made.
Well… she was going to correct it now. This was it.
She hesitated slightly "Brooklyn… aren't you going to give mommy a goodbye kiss?"
She knelt down slightly, and her little boy obediently placed his small lips on the side of her face and parted. It was an act, something they did to look good in public, though he didn't really understand. She just didn't want people suspicious—
She then hesitantly kissed Brooklyn's forehead, parting so quickly one would think she had been burned.
"Young Master Kingston, your suitcase has been taken inside and your teachers await you" the driver informed, returning.
He gave a small nod, and looked up at his mother once more. A long, long look. She shivered inwardly; it was as if he was taking every detail in, as if he knew he would never see her again, as if he knew he was to be disowned—
"Bye bye, mommy."
The driver opened the door of the limo, and she stiffly head in, not sparing her child a second glance.
She could feel him watching, though. She could feel him watching after her as the limousine drove off, watching without remorse, with a kind of understanding.
But none of it mattered. What mattered was that he was no longer her son anymore.
END
Yeah, I was probably erroneous on many accounts, but meh… I just wrote this for another site, and felt like posting it here.
That's it.
Chibi Amo