Page 37 of Hades

“Kyle?”

“Yeah, mom?”

Tears misted her lashes and for the life of him he just couldn’t drag any feeling for this woman other than pity and even that was in short supply. He was trying to move her to a facility with twenty-four-hour care, more for his own sake than hers, if it helped her, so be it, but this couldn’t continue, he’d recognized her mental state was no longer stable and he didn’t have the patience to baby her.

Cruel? Nah. He was realistic as they come.

“Doeshewhisper to you?” her voice paper thin, her eyes wide like she was too afraid to blink.

The he was the same he she spoke about every single time Hades came by. Her routine didn’t change nor, did it deviate from her crazy train.

“No one is whispering, Renee. I’ll be back in a minute, I need to see Denise about helping you pack this week.”

He left her crying hysterically.

Denise knew better than to question him. What with him being the only one to put a roof over her head and food in her belly. She was a woman in her early fifties now and time had not been kind to her.

Seven minutes later he trudged back the way he came, eyes scanning the state the house had become. It was never a palace, but whilst it had been used for a whorehouse the last eight years Hades had sunk more money in to its upkeep. Now it looked like a dump and smelled just as bad. The sooner he was out of here the better.

He returned to his mother’s room. Only seven minutes had passed, and he instantly knew something was wrong though he couldn’t see her quite yet. It was a feeling rattling his bones within his tight skin. Three steps in and he knew what the tickling at the back of his skull was. Renee was making a wet gargling noise and clawing at her throat, her face turning purple, eyes bulging out of her already sunken skull.

Hell! She was choking!

His steps increased until he was in front of her and for a split second he was that young, terrified boy once again who would have done anything to save his mom from dying, would commit any atrocities to see the neglectful woman who birthed him was okay.

She saw him, imploring her son for help with hands outstretched, she garbled words that made no sense as she turned redder. No air was coming out of her purple tinted lips, just noiseless, desperate gasps and as Hades lunged for her, to wrench her from the armchair and make her cough up whatever had lodged in her throat, an eerie sense of black perception washed through his entire body, bringing a coldness with it.

He shivered, stalled.

Just that one move.

He delayed short of his hand connecting to hers.

And as Renee’s scared, watery eyes met his he knew he’d made a heinous decision he could never come back from and the silence in his head was oddly comforting. Like he’d accepted his fate and destiny, and his body was aligning to this decision and finding it acceptable.

“It’s okay.” He spoke softly, pulling up the opposite chair, calmly taking her hand in his. “It’s okay, mom.” He repeated while she struggled to grab at any air and found none was there.

In another life, another timeline, he would have cared as a son does for his mother. If she’d been born different. But as he accepted, they were who they were. She’d regretted giving birth to him and he’s resented living ever since.

No more.

“Don’t struggle, it’ll go quicker.” He allowed his hand to fold around hers, holding gently like she was a broken bird, feeling how cold her brittle skin was, he rubbed his thumb against hers. “It’s alright, it won’t last long.”

Tears rushed hurriedly down her sunken cheeks dripping onto their clasped hands the minute it became clear to her that her only son was not going to help, instead he chose to sit by her side and watch his own mother die slowly.

A wise son makes a glad father, but a foolish man despises his mother. Proverb 15:20flashed through his mind with a stab of pain low in his abdomen. He repeated the proverb and tasted the words in his mind. For a long time, he’d hated this woman. No, that didn’t feel right, at best he’d been apathetic to her plight, ignoring her addictions, feeding them most days to keep her quiet. He’d at no time despised her but in the same vain he’d not loved his mother either. It’s impossible to love the unlovable. Now he only felt pity pounding his chest for a dying woman with her last moments on earth.

“I forgive you, Renee.” He expressed quietly, squeezing her hand with a vestige of comfort, maintaining her gaze as death took a greedy hold and Hades watched the last trace of life cross her face and then she smiled.

The strangest damn thing, the woman smiled sagging back into the high-backed chair, calmness entering her face and then life left her just like that.

Fingers fell slack inside his and with a sigh leaving his chest Hades placed her hand on her lap. Looking around her room, he found what he wanted, and he stepped aside to grab the towel before he wiped the spittle from her mouth, then he grabbed a throw blanket that rested on the back of a chair and covered over her legs.

Oddly empty, Hades went through the motions of a devoted son making his mom comfortable yet knowing he felt nothing.

Finding Denise in the kitchen minutes later he told her; “She’s sleeping. Don’t disturb her.”

What was a tiny, white lie.

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