"Alexander?" The words were a whisperer, a hushed version of her former self. Seldom have I ever felt such a mix of emotions in her presence.
My head rises from my hands resting on the edge of her bed. I look at her with perfectly innocent tear filled eyes. Faked, of course. "Mommy? You're awake?"
She lifts a weak hand to place on my two folded ones. A smile is one her face. The room already smells of death, and with the decoration, you might as well assume someone as already died here. Pushing back my chair I stand up and start to pace the room. Innocent eyes follow me, unknowing as I pick up the pillow from the cabinet. The color is a deep scarlet, how perfect. "Darling," she coughs before speaking again, "could you pull the curtains for me?"
I set the pillow on top of her feet for the moment. How perfect this was. Daddy always said if you play your cards right, then your enemy would fold for you. Closing the curtains with unwavering hands I began to talk, "Mommy do know were Julian is right now?"
She is puzzled, "Isn't he sleeping?"
The pillow is being toyed with like an accordion in my hands. "Yes, yes, of course, I'm sure you see it that way, but…"
Using her elbows to prop herself up she started to open her mouth. I walk to her. "Mommy, dearest, do lie down…"
Using his palm he applied pressure on her shoulder forcing her back into a lying down position. "Julian is sleeping. Yes, I'm sure of that now. But I'm more concerned with you sleeping."
"I'm sleeping just fine Alexander…" She said with half interest in her words focusing on my advancement,doubts fluttering across my mind.
Why shouldn't I advance? Why shouldn't I brandish this pillow? Why shouldn't she know the hell I've been through since Julian felt the same? Why shouldn't I press this down? Her screams are half felt, and in her weakened condition her arms barely cause a bruise. "Who will take the blame for your death," I spit the last word with true feeling, "mother?"
She is quiet as I remove the pillow. She is dead. Dad- no, Lionel can never hate me again, not for anything else.. She is dead. I turn my back and throw the pillow aside. A tear is in my eye, I don't know who it's for but--
Her hand suddenly jerks up and her nails drag along my turned back. For a woman half gone, already a memory her words are strong, feirce with hatred. "Who will take the blame for your forgotten innocence Alexander?"
She gasps, letting her arm fall limp and she is dead for real this time.
The end.