22. Were you resting well, mom?

345 25 2
                                    

Trigger warnings: None

"GODS, EXTERNAL AND UNAVAILABLE

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.


"GODS, EXTERNAL AND UNAVAILABLE."

Your eyes flutter open.

The pain in your neck has disappeared. You sit up and you're sitting on a grassy hill, with a red plaid blanket holding multiple tupperware of food. You must be on a picnic. You look around. Mom always liked going on picnics; how she would always pack extra food when your school went on field trips to picnics was a cherished memory.

"(first name)!"

You stand up on wobbly legs when you can see mom waving up at you from at the bottom of the hill. Your eyes well with tears and you break into a run, colliding with her with your arms wrapping around her body. Her body feels so real, her flesh so tangible, the smell of her perfume engulfing you as she presses her damp lips on the corner of your temple.

"Mom!" You cry out as she wipes your tear stained hair out of your face, bawling at the pain in your chest. This pain in your chest stemmed from missing mom, and the pain is so great that you can't think or pay attention to anything but to your own pain, the rest of the world and all other life forms don't matter. Life? In the face of pain, there are no such things; you see lines, planes, and bodies, and their transformations in time. Time, meanwhile, seems like a simple instrument for the measurement of tiny changes, a school ruler with a simplified scale—it has just three points: was, is, and will be. Past, present, future.

"My darling," She coos, running a hand over the back of your head as you cry into her breast. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Why did you leave me!?" You cry even harder, snot dripping down your nose. But you don't care; nor does mom. She wipes it all with her white dress. "You left me alone in that world!"

"I know, I know," She says. "I'm sorry. I thought it was the best way to ensure that you wouldn't ever come in contact with danger. But I was too late; too wrong."

They say the heart is a single organ—intact, unalterable, but you feel it fragmenting, quartering at the pain. Does even the smallest fragment still belong to the whole?

Was your pain God?

The sky is a blinding white. A shade of white that is impossible to achieve in the other world.

"Why are you in my head? You haunt me," You say, collapsing onto the grassy ground. Your mother sits elegantly, tucking her legs underneath her as she crosses her hands over her lap.

"When one is consumed with grief, they begin to imagine things that aren't there anymore, like afterimages," She says. "But not me. I was hoping I could help you through death, but it seemed to have caused more confusion than help."

"I missed you so much," You sob again into your hands. "I missed you since I was eleven. Over twelve years passed and the pain is still fresh, mom. I missed you so much. I still miss you so much."

"I know, I've missed you too," She says. "I'm sorry for leaving you behind."

"I grieved for you; I even joined the Decay of Angels to find out why you died the way you did. I constantly grieved; I mourned what we could have been, what I couldn't save because of this damned ability. How do I live with it? How do I become a normal citizen when touching me results in death?"

"The ability only works when I'm in your head," She says, and you look up at her quizzically.

"What?"

"I'm dead inside of you. It's time to let me go, (first name). I'm glad you've held onto me for so long, but things have to come to an end," She says, sorrowfully. "You have to let me go. Make it out alive, (first name). I'm a figment of the past. Leave it as that. I love you."

"Don't go," You beg, holding onto her hands.

"You have to accept I'm gone for your ability to deactivate," She says, gently prying your hands off hers. "I won't come to life again. Kill that hope, (first name)."

"Don't go!" You beg loudly, your voice echoing like you've just shouted into a chamber room. "Please! Don't go. Stay with me. Until I wake up in the other world. Stay with me. Stay with me, please."

But it's too late. She begins to fade, transparent and losing her opacity, her smile the last to go. You sob into your palms at her warmth ebbing away from you, and you scream into your hands. You shout. You let it all out; all the pain you've held onto post-suicide of mom, smashing your fists on the ground and tearing your hair out. You just let it go, taking it out on the grassy grounds, smashing the dark ground, your tears darkening the soil as tears uncontrollably stream down your face. You scream, and that's when you bolt up into a sitting position.

"Whoa!" Dazai jolts at the sudden movement, clapping his red book shut as you look around, bewildered. You raise a hand to your cheeks: they were damp with tears. "You're finally awake!"

You look around. You're sitting on a bed, with Dazai by a stool and a curtain covering the bed you were currently occupying. At Dazai's voice, the doctor peeks through the curtains before swishing it away.

"You were two seconds from dying; dying to a point where I couldn't save you," She says. "Be grateful to Dazai; he ran all the way to the Agency from your mother's home."

"Dazai?"

"Why were you crying in your sleep?" He asks, sliding his book into the inner pocket of his coat. "Tears kept coming out of your eyes even when they were closed."

You don't say anything for a while, groping for words.

"I saw my mom," You finally say. "Words create lies. Pain can be trusted. You only realise who you are by going through pain and suffering. Only when you feel pain can you know the shape of your heart. I think I know who I am now, Dazai," You look at him with clear, (eye colour) eyes. "My mom is resting well. Something happened to mom when I was eleven. I now know why. The God, my mom, I've worshipped, influenced my life all my life. It's time to let go."

"Let go? Can you do that, after years of holding onto her?" Dazai asks, tilting his head to the right.

"I can. I need to keep my distance," You say. "She's just in my memory now. I'm just looking at her, forever, but she isn't part of my life anymore. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it. I can rest well knowing mom is resting well."

mother, mom, ma | d.fyodor/o.dazaiWhere stories live. Discover now