Weekly Expressions 3.1: The Mother

 

 

The Mother

By Joseph Risitano

 

            I was taking a study break as I do while studying, watching another increment five-minutes from the same movie. Mother always told me to “keep pressing on, even if you’re bleeding” when it came to my studies. Having worked all night for an essay due the next day, I still did not feel comfortable with my work. Mother would NOT have approved. Mother never approved. I keep telling myself I need not worry about what she thinks anymore or what she will say to me, but I am still plagued by her words. Having a severe case of Alzheimer’s disease makes life difficult to remember much, yet I will never forget Mother. Ironically, tonight has been a year since her passing, and I revel in the feeling of being alone.

Alone. Such an understatement of joy I feel for that word more often than I say. It has also been two months since I started school, and I could not be happier. And yet tonight of all nights, I sense something amiss in my world. Already I can feel her overbearing spirit haunting me, almost as if she never left. Nevertheless, this is MY time to live MY life, and I cannot let her past-self bar me from the door of opportunity. Even if I do need a couple movies to calm me down for an assignment, I will take that time to relax.

I reach for the popcorn in my bag, a “popcorn bouquet” I had purchased from the local grocery store as reward for my studying. Mother hated sweets of any kind. Though I had no idea of her reasoning, she was in fact a sour person, so of course any kind of sweetness would allude her. Damn. I did not need such thoughts running laps in my head, but the benefits of admitting my life’s trauma inwardly had its benefits. I munched some more popcorn, the screen starting to crackle as I stared at a couple in a warm embrace.

Such was the moment I began to feel a cold shiver go down my back. I passed it off as perhaps the thermostat being out of whack, but the rest of the room felt the same as it ever had. A perfectly normal apartment space. Then a second time, this time the chill going up my back and up to nape of my neck. The cold feeling became a digging finger of hurt, twisting from behind, causing me to spit out whatever popcorn was in my mouth. I jumped in fright to turn around, the light from the television screen illuminating a shadow darting to right of the room. I saw it head towards the hallway near my bathroom.

I ran out of my room in hot pursuit, seeing if I could cut in front of whatever or whoever this shadow belonged to. The shadow dodged the bathroom, instead shooting into my kitchen where a single light was on. I was not sure if I should be thankful the light was there, until the shadow began pawing it as if the figure were a cat and the light was a toy. I yelled at the shadow to stop its movement, knowing full well that I no alternative means of weaponry to use against it. The shadow stopped its pawing, the light instead turning to the wall in front of me to reveal a hazy silhouette.

My heart sunk at what I saw before me. The light dimming ever so slightly, there stood a shadow resembling the two-dimensional visage of my mother. Frayed hair, a haggard but plump face, and a looming presence that towered over my 5’5” frame, I knew it had to be her. Before I could speak anything else, the image whisked the light’s power off, leaving the room entirely black. Even stranger, the kitchen light was not the only light to go out. The sound of the television in my room now fell silent. Taking my cellphone out, I used the flashlight to make my way through the darkness.  

“You left me behind”, whispered a voice from behind me. I swiveled around to catch a glimpse, but there was nothing there except for myself and the hallway. “I only wanted the best for you”, the voice said again, though this time the voice was even closer and even clearer. It was as if the breath of someone were next to my ear when the voice spoke again. As I turned to shine my light in their direction, I now stood face-to-face with my mother! “YOU KILLED MEEEEEEE!”, now screaming into my face, my mother’s appearance clear as day. “You hated my overbearing nature, when I all wished was to give you all of my love! But you shoved my pillow into my face and suffocated me!”  

The realization at what I had done a year ago all came back to me. My mother was old, so nobody questioned her death, but she knew. She knew what I had done. I had killed my mother in her bed that night, and it felt good. “I’ve come back for you. You must accept the consequences of your actions. The Alzheimer’s may have changed your mind as to who I was to you, but I loved you.” No, she did not love me. This could not be happening. Waving my flashlight around in the air, I booked it for the door. I made it safely, and I as I turned the knob, two hands grabbed me from behind into the black. And as I started to lose consciousness, I heard a voice say, “And because I love you, I will never let you go.”