Not Even His Assistant 2

Chapter Nine

Chapter 9 - . . . (Greyson POV)

WARNING: A good amount of profanity ahead. 

I was livid. I had started reading through the letters my dad had wanted to send me. There were letters spanning multiple years when he was away, had come back, and left again. They were for me and contained messages that could've gotten me through a lot of hard times.

Ever since he died, I had to struggle with the fear I'd lose his memory altogether. I clung onto the few pictures I had of him and a single note that read, I love you babygirl! - Dad.

All because my stupid, jealous mother couldn't allow me to have anything of his.

I walked into her room, and she immediately looked up at me, confused. I dropped the box on top of her with all the letters.

"Grey..." The nurse followed me in, noticing my unhappy demeanor.

My mom looked at the object on her lap in surprise and then back at me. "What? Who?" She started, as if she was the victim.

"Don't you dare play dumb with me. You better figure out your Alzheimer shit right the fuck now." I could feel the anger rolling off of me in waves.

"Greyson, honey. I need you to stay calm, or you'll have to leave." The nurse interjected.

"Call security, I don't care." I snapped at her. I didn't even turn my eyes, I kept them locked onto my birth-giver.

She looked straight back at me too, unmoving. "It's okay Keah, give us a minute alone." My mom said.

I guess she was having a clear day. She was incredibly lucky for that.

Once the nurse, reluctantly, closed the door, I opened my mouth again. "How could you keep these from me? He wrote them for me."

My mom grabbed one of the envelopes, opening it up. Tears immediately welled in her eyes. "Oh, my poor husband, why did he have to go?" She sobbed, trying to read the letter.

I snatched it from her and placed it in the box, taking the whole box from her. "If you were going to hide them from me, why didn't you just throw them away?" I asked her. I don't know what I was expecting from this conversation, but I needed to get it off my chest.

"I should've," She said, wiping away her tears, "But he'd never forgive me if I did that." Tears continued down her face. I rolled my eyes, she was so dramatic.

"You're sick and not just with Alzheimer's. You're a terrible person and a horrible mother. Why did you have to love him more than me? I'm you're fuckin' child!"

"How can you say that? I wanted the best for you. Did I burden you to take care of me when I was sick? No. I made you learn how to take care of yourself. I put myself in here while you went to school. I'm not a perfect person, but I did my best for you. You have no idea..."

"Excuse me? You pretty much abandoned me to figure everything out on my own. You're selfish and narcissistic. You couldn't stand him lovin' his child and so you had to hate me because of it." I felt on the verge of blacking out. I wanted to hit her, scream more, break everything in the room. It was the biggest moment of clarity I'd had with her in awhile and she was just as terrible as I remembered.

"That's not true! I didn't care that he loved you," She blatantly lied. "It's just... You look too much like him. It was a cruel reminder of what I'd lost and I couldn't handle it."

I clenched the box closer to my chest. It was the only thing I had to keep me from going absolutely crazy. She was insane.

I looked at her for a long moment, not trusting that I wouldn't snap. But all I saw was a shell of a person. An empty cast, with no substance. Like a foreign object. She wasn't my mother. She was just a woman I had the displeasure of knowing.