---

 

This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book “Existential Threats” Down in the Dirt, v172 (the June 2020 Issue) Order the paperback book:

Order this writing that appears in the one-of-a-kind anthology Outside the Box the Down in the Dirt May-Aug. 2020 issues collection book		get the 422 page May-Aug. 2020 Down in the Dirt 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Order this writing in the book 2020 in a Flash the 2020 flash fiction & art collection anthology		get the 296 page flash fiction & artwork & photography collection anthology as a 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

Goodbye, Cruel Mother

Chris Norton

    Years later, sitting on the edge of my bed in the psych ward as a bored tech watched me through a peephole, picking his nose, I had plenty of time to think. I remembered the way my mom, whenever she was embarrassed for someone, always looked like she was in physical pain. All through my childhood, we’d be in the front-row pew as my dad preached, and suddenly something would make her sit up straight. Dad went on—about how we shouldn’t give in to cultural pressures and allow women in the ministry, for instance—and she would look more and more uncomfortable. She turned red and grimaced. The hair on her temples grew wet with sweat. But it was only after I became a teenager that she put her hands over her face and sank down in her chair. “Oh, God,” she whimpered through her fingers. “Please make him stop.” He didn’t. Finally, one night, she snuck out of her bedroom window and had a friend drive her to the airport for a two a.m. flight. She left a note.
    Dear little friends, it said, I’m sorry to leave you like this, but you have to understand. My whole adult life, I’ve been a wife and mother. I’ve never been able to get away and LIVE!! I hope you don’t grow up with mommy problems, Beaux. And Danny, I wish I could have seen the sweet young man I’m sure you will become. But staying at home and caring for the two of you was enough to make me want to wring your dear little necks. Maybe one day, when you have your own families, you’ll understand. Goodbye, cruel world, and hello Bahamas! Wish me luck!
    Love, Mumsy. XOXO
    I think I was the only member of the family who ever saw the note. I was up early to get ready for cross country practice, and I resented being called a child. So I took some scissors, and as I ate my cereal I cut up the letter and made a poem:
    Goodbye, cruel        mother
    I’ve never been able to        understand
    your dear little        life

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...