Will a mother forgive? 694 words. |
T As I wend my way along the path I step off into cover whenever I hear an orderly or patient or both coming along. A significant number of the patients here are elderly and wheelchair bound. This trail is not smooth enough for wheelchairs so I only encounter younger, ambulatory patients, or would encounter them if I allowed myself to be seen. As I approach the main building I start to run out of woods and my progress is going to become trickier, I stop and focus for a moment. She is at the South end of the building. That is good, I can stay in the woods a little longer and work my way to her without exposing myself to the staff until the last few meters. I start out in a circular fashion towards the South end where the gardens are. I could have just gone in the front but she would never accept me as a visitor, so this is the only way I can see her. E We followed lead after lead getting no farther than the police. A month and 8 more dead people we finally caught a break and tracked her to a derelict warehouse that she was using as a lair/headquarters. The battle was bad, one of the worst in my career at that point. She had surrounded herself with fanatical followers that were willing to die rather than give up. Once it started we were joined by the local police and a few Masks. Once she was dead (she would accept no other outcome) the police cut the power-suit off her. After tending to my wounds and see to the comfort of my partner I went and looked at her. That's when victory turned to ashes. My partner eventually died of his wounds and I took 7 weeks to heal (even with boosted healing.) B A striking woman with pure white hair sits in a high backed lounge chair looking at everything and nothing. There is no one around her. I approach quietly until I am next to her. I push my mask up and kneel in front of her, looking her in the eyes. At first, there is no recognition, then I see the surprise and even fleeting joy on her face. But then her eyes harden and the rest of her face follows. Her mouth becomes a hard line and then a frown. I sigh. I had hoped that time would let my mother heal but every year it is the same. Anger flares up in me, she should recognize that I had lost someone close to me, also. But it fades quickly to be replaced by ... nothing. They say you never really recover from losing a child. That it's much worse than a parent or close friend. How about a sibling? An older sister that you looked up to your whole life? If there is no forgiveness from my mother how am I ever going to forgive myself for killing my only sister? |