Chapter 21- To My Mother

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BRADY

Her eyes are staring into my mine with anger and revenge as she speaks, winding a finger through her thick brown hair. She smirks, tracing a finger over the glass window after removing it from her strands of hair. "You're not innocent, Brady." She spat, rising from the chair and moving around the room. "You are not innocent." Her anger rose as she danced around the room without control, without worrying about her pain. I stared painfully towards her. She knew I was insane. "You are crazy, Brady! You don't deserve to be free." She began to yell, raising her voice and tapping on the wall. "Brady Artell, you suck." She spat, leaning back against the wall and biting her lip. She caressed the light white wallpaper with the tips of her fingers as she glanced in my direction. "You wonder why you're such a loner."

My throat flamed up as she savagely exclaimed, pressing two fingers to her lips. I could tell in her eyes that now, more than ever, she loathed me, and in every bone in my body, I understand why. I'm a monster for thinking that she'll ever forgive me for attacking her. I could have killed her. Now she's left in this hell hole and I came here seeking her forgiveness. I am a true monster. I wouldn't receive her forgiveness. Maybe I didn't even want it. I opened my mouth to speak, but only a few words came out. "I don't know." My whisper was only barely knowledgeable, but she knew what I said.

"You don't know the pain I felt, we all felt. You cower in fear the moment things get deadly and as the world turns on you." She spat, stepping away from the wall and sliding her bare feet against white tiles. "You listen to those demons in your head too much. Stop blaming your past, Brady." She fumbled with her fingers as she glared straight towards me.

"I'm not blaming anything." I turned to face her in the chair, leaning my head back against the headrest. She smiles delicately, like a flower, and pranced towards the door of the hospital room, gesturing down to the knob with her hands. "I'm not leaving just yet." I spat, and she leapt from the door back to me. She slipped back into the chair, tapping twice on the armrest of the grey wood.

"You still blame your mother for that fateful day." She snickered, placing a finger to her lips. "You think she killed your sister? Your father?" She brought back everything I wanted to forget, and just like that, she forced the memories I had long pushed back to resurface in a vicious haze. The stories my mother had told me about their deaths seemed so true I allowed myself to forget the truth. My truth. "You killed them." She spat, raising her voice. "You lit the match that killed them." It was the truth I could not avoid. It was the truth that haunts my soul each and every day.

I am a monster.

I left the hospital, away from her, but I knew I couldn't escape it. I'd face her again one day and she'll know how to finish me.

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I fiddled with the pen in my hand as I stare blankly at the empty paper on the desk, the cold breeze filtering in from the small window in the study of the new house. My mother is going to be back soon, but I can't bear to leave her here without something to know that the chat with Faith did happen, even if she still hates me. This note is to remember me by, I suppose. Sometimes I feel like giving up would be easier than living a life full of hate and disadvantage, where I'm constantly portrayed as the psycho. Where death is my punishment for all that I have sinned, because no one can forget what I've done. To say that I killed my sister and my father on accident could be considered lies is sometimes correct, because my plagued mind was never sane. I was furious with my father and my sister was the repercussion for his death. If I could go back to save her, I know I would.

So I'm writing this note to say that I'm dying, to give in to the depriving souls I carry around with me and to say goodbye. My place here isn't wanted. I tap lightly on the blank piece of paper. The ink spreads into letters as I begin the short and simple note, hoping that all I need to say will follow.

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