Death was once something I feared, an illusion that brought darkness with it, but now I plead for its mercy in this time that survivors have come to call, The New Order.
•••
It was only a cough to began with, something so simple, it had happened a t...
"Mom, please answer, I don't know what to do," the plastic telephone is clenched between my small fingers, the only warmth to be felt is the liquid dripping down my cheeks and the small arms latched around the side of my leg as her bright copper hair hides her puffy, emerald eyes.
"Mom, please."
***
I left her. I just left her. With no one to help her. She's all alone in there and it's my fault because I just left her. Why? Why would I just leave? She's sick and she needs help; she needs my help, that's why I came here, to get her the help she needed. So why did I just leave her? I can't just leave her here.
I need to go back, she needs me.
I stand at the road's edge as the few vehicles left blur past in a frenzy; the fumes intoxicating, unable to move any itch of myself as though I'm rooted to this one spot, a new statue for oncomers to gurgle at as they pass through these streets; the woman frozen in place by her own indecision.
I used to have a similar sensation overcome me when I was just a mere child, an unknowing girl taking on the sacred world around her. Our Mother had moved us from the small comfort of our humble town and the people we had grown up with - the ones we loved - and out to the towering landscape of a city built with blinding lights. She'd told us that it'd be an incredible experience to be able to explore beyond what we knew, but in our chilling reality, we were just scared, because even though we were only young, we had lived with our mother enough to know what this 'new' path meant for her, and what would happen to us along her journey.
A few weeks had passed, and the inevitable was now our new reality for however long this episode would last for her. Once she grew tired of her new life. She was in and out of the tiny one-roomed apartment she'd bought, never staying longer than a few hours, typically with a bag of various odd food products that never went together, but was the cheapest for her to get at the time.
I can't completely discredit her, she paid the bills that kept the broken place over our heads and us off of the streets.
Until one day she didn't. A tall man with a gut full of warmed liquor barged in through the door that barely hung on by its hinges, hadn't even had the courtesy to knock. His lumbered, swaying steps creaked against the wooden floors as he wandered through the house, slurring her name with each room he staggered into. We had learnt our mother's name early on in life because of the men she kept company.
He stood towing over our little figures, children with no parental figure to be seen, and told us as though we were the ones that had not paid this month's bill - or as he had informed us, never - and that we had to get out because our mother hadn't paid for the rent and he had other clients ready to move in later that day.
Nobody could contact her. Not even with the emergency number she'd written down on a napkin for me when things got dire.
I typically kept it hidden in the left-hand pocket of my old teddy bear, something that was gifted to me when I was much younger.
That's when I resorted to the number my mother had written on the back of the napkin, someone she said to only ever call when it was necessary, someone my mother never once got in contact with, having completely cut her off years ago. A stranger we had never met.
Our Nan-nan.
She had picked us up on the side of the road, us huddled together under the shield of plastic that covered the landline, a few blocks away from where we had been staying. Without a second thought, with no hesitation when we told her that we believed we were her grandkids. I'd experienced something that day that I'll always cherish, something I'd never had with my own mother.
Selfless love.
From then on we lived with Nan-nan, her caring for us in a way our mother was unable to, and Eliana and I taking care of her as she struggled more in the later years with ageing.
We were blissful together, with the little life we had built. And now it's all falling apart right in front of me, like the veil is being ripped from my grasp, bearing me to the harsh reality around me.
Like that day on the side of the road, trying to dial my mother as shivers quaked my little body.
Wedged into the pocket of my jeans, something small vibrates. My phone. For the first time in however many minutes that have passed by, I move. The screen illuminates across the soft angles of my face as my eyes glaze over the message.
Nan-Nan - I'm safe, now go to Eliana, she's going to need you.
A shaky breath escapes my lips as I whirl around, facing the towering building I had just left.
I may not be able to see her, but she's up there, watching over me, like she always has and more than likely, always will.
Nan-nan - i love you
My fingers are numb as I type a response back.
Naseria - i love you too
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