Jeff Mount

Good Morning, Mommy

Grace opened her eyes. She knew what was waiting for her in the living room, and lying around in bed would just prolong the agony. So, she sat up, stretched her arms, and got ready to face the inevitable.

She could hear rustling around out there already. Tears began to well up in her eyes as an unseen force assisted her in exiting her bedroom. She walked into the cold living room. It was always cold in her house now. She heard her bedroom door close behind her.

"Good morning, mommy!" It was her 9 year old daughter Ashley.

The horrific scene began to play out. She saw the depleted bottle of vodka and the needle with the half-full syringe she had inadvertently left out on the coffee table the night before. She grabbed her hair and shrieked with terror. Grace had been so drunk and high that she had passed out before putting the smack away in the safe in her room.

Little Ashley looked up at Grace from the couch. She was holding the syringe and pushing the heroin into her arm. The sound of Barney The Dinosaur blared from the television like a mocking crow. Grace began to sob heavily and fell to her knees. She was still holding on to her hair and her face was frozen with grief and terror.

"Look, just like I saw you do one night, mommy!"

Ashley started convulsing and her eyes rolled back in her head. She reached her frail arm out to Grace and the needle came out, hit her bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios on the coffee table, then fell to the floor. Spilled milk and soggy Cheerios covered the syringe. Again.

"No.. oh my god, Ashley.. oh, my god, no.. nooooo!" The words sputtered out of Grace's mouth between her choking sobs. Her bladder released.

Ashley had stopped moving and was slouched back on the couch. Blood was coming out of her arm and she drooled out of her little mouth. Grace already knew that her precious only child was no longer among the living. 9 years old and dead from a heroin overdose because her mommy was such a junkie she had forgotten to hide her stash.

Grace managed to stand up on her wobbly legs. She turned to walk back towards her bedroom to hide from the misery. She knew it was no use, but she tried the door anyway. It wouldn't budge, of course. She wouldn't be permitted to enter until much later that night. She was screaming as she retreated back down the hallway. She tried the bathroom door, and of course had the same result. She ran to the front door of the house and it too, was locked firmly in place. That door would never open again, Grace was fully aware of that. She dropped to her knees again, her own body convulsing with agony over what she had done.

She felt a cold hand on her shoulder and her breath stopped dead in her throat.

"Mommy? Why did you leave that stuff out for me? It's not good for you, is it? Am I dead mommy?"

Grace scurried away from her deceased daughter without looking at her. She crawled along the kitchen then stood up and ran to the back door. Useless, but she always tried. Of course, it would never budge. She felt the hand on her shoulder again.

"Mommy? Why'd ya' kill me mommy? Was I a bad girl?"

Grace screamed loudly and whirled around. Ashley stood in front of her. Her skin was grayish yellow and almost transparent. She looked up at her mother with sorrowful wide eyes.

"H-Honey.. Honey, I am so sorry.. I love you so much.. I .. I don't know how I could have..." She reached her arms out in a worthless attempt to embrace her child. Her arms moved through the apparition and clunked against each other.

Throughout the day and evening Grace attempted to hide from the scene in the living room, to no avail. Ashley continued to follow her and ask her questions about what had happened that fateful night. Grace's heart was shattered a thousand times. Finally, late that night, her bedroom door was found to be unlocked and she went in to cry herself to sleep. Ashley did not follow her in.

The next morning, Grace opened her eyes. She knew what was waiting for her in the living room, and lying around in bed would just prolong the agony. So, she sat up, stretched her arms, and got ready to face the inevitable.

Grace had died in an overdose later the same day she had found her daughter in the living room injecting herself. She had done it on purpose so that she wouldn't have to live with the reality of what she had done.

Now, her soul was doomed to repeat that day for eternity.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Jeff Mount.
Published on e-Stories.org on 01/31/2009.

 

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