Lethal Obsession

33.

"God forbid you complain of evil to the one who thinks evil of you - you cannot do him greater good." ― Zarko Lausevic

"He was supposed to be the first man to tell her that she was beautiful and help her determine who she was before anyone had the opportunity to label her. She was supposed to be his "little girl"." ― Anais Torres,

"Just as courage endangers life, so does fear protect it." ― Leonardo da Vinci.

"Seems like yesterday

I lay down next to your boots and I prayed

For your anger to end

Oh Father I have sinned"

- Oh Father - Madonna

Chapter 33

The flight did not last long. Maybe that was really the case or maybe it was just a subjective feeling due to how afraid I was of what was waiting for me at the end. Seeing my childhood home again, I felt emotions that I shouldn't. Something was burning in my chest, but I knew that visiting the people I called my parents was the only solution. Our last meeting did not end on the best note, so my nervousness was drastically greater.

I didn't even know what I was expecting when I rang the familiar doorbell, but when it was opened by a woman who irresistibly reminded me of myself it was as if all thoughts had evaporated from my head. I looked at her with my dark eyes, the look she returned.

The initial shock she experienced when she saw me, although intense, did not last long. Her eyes soon began to fill with tears, and the movements of her chest showed she was breathing hard. She looked horrible. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were crumpled, and she barely wore any makeup. It was hard to recognize her since I had never seen her in that condition. The mother I had known all my life would never allow herself to look so disheveled. She was always dressed up, with a demeanor worthy of the royal. I felt bad seeing her in such a state, yet, I dreaded to know the reason behind it.

While I was occupied with my thoughts, she had already recovered and came to her senses. I jumped in surprise when I felt her arms around my body pulling me toward her and hugging me like never before. For the first time, after so long, after so many years of my life, I felt like she wasn't only my mother on paper but also in reality. For the first time I felt her embrace, her comforting scent. I was so overwhelmed with emotions caused by her small actions I couldn't help but break down in tears.

For the first time in my life, I stood at the door of my family home, in my mother's arms, shedding bitter tears on her shoulder. It felt amazing.

-

"I'm sorry," my mother's gentle, feminine voice made me look up from the cup of tea, which was almost intact.

The minutes passed so painfully it felt like days, and not just a little less than half an hour since I entered the house. The woman who gave birth to me and me sat in complete silence, deeply immersed in our thoughts on, very likely very similar topics. That's why I was quite surprised when she broke the uncomfortable atmosphere and said those, almost forbidden, words.

"For?" I asked her briefly, looking through my long, thick lashes. In some weird way it served me as a barrier. As much as I was provoking her, I was just as afraid to hear the end of her apology. Deep down, I knew what she wanted to say, so I tried to prepare for it. I came all the way here for one reason only, and I had no plans on leaving before I tried to get an answer.