Daughter of the Legend: Soul on Fire (#Wattys2018)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Mama Who Bore Me

Mama who bore me

Mama who gave me

No way to handle things

Who made me so sad

Mama, the weeping

Mama, the angels

No sleep in Heaven, or Bethlehem

The door closed behind me, sealing me from the sterile white of heaven; leaving only the faint twilight. I was in a forest of Pines that stood like silent skyscrapers. There was music through the rustle of the needles. Looking over my shoulder, I couldn't make out where the door had been located. Biting my lip, I looked back through the trees.

There was no way I could go back, the only thing waiting for me out there was probably my death. That left one option: to go forward.

While the trees were tall and seemingly infinite in number, they were not very dense. It wasn't long before my eyes locked onto a building up ahead. Making it to the treeline, I scanned the clearing, with weary eyes. Leaning against a trunk, I began to process the brutality of what had just happened.

In the clearing, a pristine cabin with glowing windows sat waiting. Off to the left was a lake, and it looked like it was the only place for miles. The windows were open wide, and through them drifted "Seven Bridges Road," by the Eagles.

Working my way slowly down the hillside, I crept around the edge of the cabin. Inside, I could hear her singing the words to her favorite song. I leaned against the wall, hand pressed to my mouth to stop the sob. Mom.

Composing myself, I continued around to the front of the porch, the door was ajar. Why wouldn't it be? This was heaven. With my left arm still held to my chest, and my clothes ripped and bloodied, I stood in the open doorway watching my mom. The smell of her homemade spaghetti overwhelmed me, and the smallest whimper left my trembling lips. She stopped, and turning on her heel her dark brown eyes locked with mine immediately.  

"Angel," She breathed the word that was once a sentimental nickname, her hands going to her mouth at the sight of me. I stumbled into the room as she ran from the kitchen to catch me. The second her arms wrapped around me, the flood gates opened. Granted this was customary for pretty much every time I had seen her, well thought I had seen her, since the day she died.

"Baby," she gasped, "Oh my god, honey, how...what...Rachel, who did this to you?" I couldn't answer her question. Her eyes latched onto the deep cuts on my arms, and the holes that dotted my forehead in a perfect line. If only she knew about the scars that ran from my shoulder blades down towards my spine, or about the burn mark that distorted the gentle skin above my heart.

"Mama," the word was shaky and rough. She looked at me, shame and fear in her eyes.

"It's okay baby," She cooed, "It's okay." She saw the nails still protruding hit." Mom released me and looked at my arm, which made me wince. Her expression darkened. "Stay here." She demanded, getting to her feet.

"Yep," I groaned, leaning against the leather couch. She returned a moment later with what looked like a hot bowl of water, a towel, a first aid kit, and a pair of pliers.

"Who did this to you?" She repeated, wiping off my face and arms. She was in full blown mom-mode.

"The angels," I whispered closing my eyes. Her hands stopped, and I felt her gaze on me.

"Was it-"

"No mom, she's gone." I replied, opening one eyes to look at her, "This was Heaven." Furrowing her eyebrows, she looked at the nails in my arms, and the cuts that were still covered in fresh blood.