Memoir of the Messenger (trash of count family fanfic)

Chapter 9

Cale stares at the image for what felt like an eternity as he forces back the prickling feeling in his eyes and took a deep breath as he tried to calm down.

But the image of his mother's smiling face in his memories was easily overlapped with the drawing of his mother before him.

He couldn't afford to cry... He wasn't as vulnerable as before, he is stronger than this-

Cale quickly turned the page, to refocus his attention on something else, anything would suffice as long as his mind would stray away from his mother.

He would really like to just forget everything about it.

They can see an image of a small black creature, locked in a dark cell, his body was covered with scars and injuries overlapping one another.

A person that appears to be half dead with a dead mermaid on the other side. Whirlpools were drawn around them.

A man that seems to have fallen from his wheelchair with a red snake crest on it, is surrounded by a group of assassins.

Taylor's grip tightened in his wheelchair and quickly loosening his hold, it goes almost unnoticed, if not by Cage, who stood behind him.

She cast him a look in silence, her expression mirroring his, before shifting it back in front of them.

But Cale wasn't able to pay attention to the strange sketches in the few pages as the image of his late mother kept appearing in front of him, invading, occupying every corner of his mind.

He felt himself drifting away at the same time tethered in one place, unable to break free from the shackles that were binding him.

The solitude, the torment that accumulated from the past, and remnants of the despair that he had felt earlier began to surface once again.

A huge part of him screamed, refusing to accept it, while a small part of him, telling him, that it was the truth, the reality he needed to face, no matter how cruel and horrible it was.

Because there's nothing he can do to change it.

His mind races back to the drawings of himself, the ugly, grown version of him. The kind of person that parents advise their children not to become.

Does mother see him in that state too? Is mother ashamed of me? Is that why she tried to-no, no... He couldn't finish such thoughts.

Cale panted heavily as he shook his head repeatedly, forcing the thoughts down.

If you knew only death will welcome you, why did you still choose to go to that place? Why did you have to leave me behind... All alone?

These thoughts, questions that will never be answered anymore, filled his head, shooking him down to his core.

A heavy pressure appeared in Cale's chest, like poisonous vines, it wrapped around his heart, stabbing him with its sharp thorns.

his other hand desperately came up to cling the fabric over his chest, hoping to ease the pain in his heart.

He could feel his focus, his control slipping away from him and as if something inside him had finally snapped.