PILL BOTTLES
2 months and 2 weeks until...
Mickay's POV...
Even though I said I wouldn't cry I couldn't help it. It was 11 am, Devon left three hours ago, church began an hour ago. But I didn't have the pushing power to do anything but sit around. Did I have be so hard on him for him to walk out on me. Since the hour ago he left I was still in the same spot, only sitting instead.
A week passed and my regret started sinking in. And temptation started coming in along with memories of the past. I don't know why, but thoughts of my mother came in. I didn't have any good memories of her even though I spent most my childhood life with her.
My mother was an addict, she died one too. If it wasn't for my father I would have overdosed at the age of 15. The same demon that whispered in my ear at 15 is the same one who managed to crawl back up on my shoulder today. The last time I saw her before she died we got into an argument, one worst than the one I had with Devon.
Go take those pills. The voice repeated multiple times, I took three of them. Every day. For the pass week. The pain and the regret slowly slipped away filled with clamness and bliss. Then something made me stop today. I backed away looking at the scattered pills on the counter and asked myself what I was doing.
Flashback...
My mother was before me in the living room of our cramped up one room house. She emptied the bag that she had just carried in. I wasn't excited to see whatever she bought because it would mainly be cigarettes, pill bottles, alcohol and enough food to feed an army of ants.
"Here go make something to eat." She said giving me a paper bag
I took the bag and looked through it, I heard the lighter strike. That told me she bought another pack of cigarettes. Even though the smell was horrible I didn't dear say a word about it. I took the box of mac and cheese out and brought it to the stove. At the time I was only nine years old an age which she told me I was able to take care of myself.
Day in day out for the next 6 years it was like this when I just had enough of it. She was killing herself and I didn't want to lose her even though she wasn't much of a mother figure.
She came in one day digging for things one day not able to find them she asked me. I told her I threw them out and she looked at me in disbelief. The next thing I knew I was on the ground crying after her hitting me for all the wrong reasons. I yelled "I hate you!" And that was the last thing I ever said to her.
Few days after I woke up in a hospital bed and next to it was a man who said he was my father.
***
I didn't yell I hate you to Devon, but still argued with him. And then tried to do the same as my mother. My eyes closed for a second I saw my mother. I didn't know if it was a good or a bad thing. She hugged me and told me that she was sorry. Sorry for not being there for me, sorry for not showing me her love, sorry for not listening and sorry for everything. She told me not to make the same mistake as her because of hurt.
Before I could even say a word to her she disappeared. And I woke up to the light seeping through the bathroom window on my face. I forgave her fully after hearing that. I rushed to my room digging through the drawers and closet trying to find where I put the pictures I had of her. It was kinda dumb to talk to pictures but I couldn't talk to her and tell her in person. So I pured my heart out in words to the pictures. Even though it's been 7 years. Even though I turned a Christian I still had her up for what she did. I didn't forgive her even though she was in her grave I didn't. I thought how could I forgive her and at times I did feel like telling her I hate you at times when thoughts like my recent ones come to mind.
"I forgive you." And just like that weight was lifted off my shoulders. All the pain and hate I had for her finally went. I looked up and mouthed in love you to man up above.
