Short Stories/Snippets that were made from Writing Contests

Make Amends, Remember? Or Did You Forget?

(APRIL WRITING CONTEST #2)

Summary: He remembers plenty, yet he forgets more than he remembers.

//Author Venting? Perhaps?? Also Fun Fact: I'm Gender Apathetic and Asexual and most likely gay :)

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He remembers the sound of music filling his senses with ease and peace, he remembers the first time his bare fingers touched the keys of a piano, how the smooth ivory felt. He remembers how he struggled to memorize the chords and the notes, how he struggled to play a song as smooth as he'd heard from others but he knew how to be patient; he was patient. He remembered how classical music would ease his anxious mind and his frantic heart, how it soothes him in most nights where he felt restless.

Yes, he remembers, he remembers plenty yet begrudgingly he forgets more than he remembers.

But there was one thing he could never forget and it was the feeling of resentment, despite how many others had told him how it was wrong to resent, he could not help but be resentful of his mother.

He remembers how she laughs so sickly sweet when she showered him with praises, how she spoke of sweet nothings and empty promises, how she sounded so utterly disgusting as she showed him off to other people, how pathetically fake she sounded as she whispered apologies that she'd forget about the next day. Although he resented her now, he had loved and respected her when he had been young, he had listened and obeyed her every word because he wanted nothing more than love and affection, he wanted nothing more than to spend lovely time with his 'mother'. And yet all he received were harsh scolding and a stick, he was always reprimanded and he was often told of being 'useless'.

He remembers crying everytime he was hit, scolded or sometimes - rare times - he'd cry himself to sleep. He was often told that he was nothing but a lazy dog, always stumbling in on himself uselessly, how he was too slow and that he might as well do nothing, but that was back then and this was now. His 'mother' had no role to play in his life anymore, but even so he couldn't - could never - seem to forget his childhood, if you could even call it that.

He blinked a couple of times, rubbing at his sunken and tired eyes with his gloved hands, half-lidded ebony brown eyes looked down at the rough paper held in place by the typewriter, sighing tiredly as he pulled at the lever to release the paper. He held it between his fingers as he read it word for word before nodding in satisfaction, folding it to three and inserting it to a black envelope and sealing it with a wax and stamp.

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He walked along the path, umbrella folded to his side as he strolled around the park as if it was a cane. Puddles of mud and water all around the place, his rain boots splashing it lightly as he stepped on a few puddles, circular gold framed sunglasses that are tinted with a deep purple perched on his nose, jet black shoulder-length hair that is tied into a half attempt at a pony tail, leaving the lower back side loose.

He strode over to a secluded area of the park, picking up pace when he noticed people coming from the peripheral of his vision.

Soon he reached his destination, sitting on the bench underneath the tree that had been planted by the lake, although it was rather uncomfortable with how damp the bench was, he found himself not caring as he stared at the unmoving lake. The pink and yellow orange sunset sky reflecting on the waters surface, as clouds drift by he recalls the letter he had written, huffing a puff of hair as his eyelids fluttered close as he listened to the birds chirping.

'Dear -Mothe- Michelle,

It had been quite a while since I've contacted you, although that is an understatement seeing as how this is my first time in a very very long time since I've actually contacted you. And as this is the first, this will also be the last.

This really isn't for you, but for myself to make amends with my past. Call me selfish, I doubt I'd care.

I don't care if you're doing fine or not either so I won't ask, but I would like to ask a question, one that has been pestering me and keeping me restless, hence why I decided to write this letter.

Do you remember? Do you remember how you treated me like a toy? You gently played with me and then you chewed on me, picking at parts only to leave me deformed; nothing but a shell of who I once was, and I was reduced to a child that was too afraid to speak for themselves and afraid of the judging stares of people I don't even know. Do you remember? Or are you choosing to ignore and forget, as if it never happened, as if you never had done such a thing because you are a good person doing good things.

Do you think you're perfect and that things will always go your way, you pray to God like some Saint; like you've done no sin.

No one is perfect and you're not a good person, you never were. You were a shitty parent who did nothing but berate and criticize me, picking and proding at my insecurities as you play fake plastic with your words and actions. You are no mother of mine, and you have never been.

You come to school acting all proud of me when deep down you see nothing but a lazy, pathetic and useless dog that has been taking up space like the useless decorations that you keep in the house to impress your guests. You pretend and flaunt your riches when truthfully you did nothing but shove a debt to our name, you pride yourself with your education but you can't even maintain your children's education.

Tell me, 'mother', which one of us is truly selfish?

Which of us - between me and you - is a squirmy, greedy little leech?

It's frustrating, did you know that? It's frustrating that despite knowing that all this time you've been gaslighting me, I can't bring myself to fully loathe you. Sure, I may resent you, but not completely. Not because I still see you as my mother, fuck no, but because I could understand where you're coming from. But that's all the understanding you're getting from me, and I'll never come back and hopefully I'll never see you again.

Goodbye, -Mot- Michelle.

From -Your So- Julian'

He could hear the crickets chirping, he could see the stars clearly as he looked up at the night sky, the quiet rustling of leaves could be heard as a soft breeze blew by. He sighed with content, lowering his gaze to look at the surface of the lake, his brown eyes sparkling with awe as the fireflies that came out after a little while when the rain stopped this evening. The buzz of the fluttering wings of the insects slightly bothered him, but he willed himself to stay seated as he watched a few fireflies drift near him a little bit, he resisted the urge to either swat them away or stand up and go home but he still chose to stay seated and practically forced himself to focus on the beautiful luminescent light coming from their back side.

He leaned back on the bench, peacefully watching the fireflies buzz around; possibly looking for a mate as it is late spring, he huffed out a laugh as he let himself relax. Letting the calming atmosphere and the enchanting sight of fireflies distract him from the cold night, and for once he felt light; lighter than he'd ever felt.