//Because it had been a while and it's a quite personal tragedy. Jessica, the friends she made at her club, Alex.. all are her family and she would need them now that her last blood-relative is gone. it's bittersweet.
xxx
Where were you when this happened? It was the question of the millennium. Asma had heard it for most of her life. Where were you when the Berlin Wall fell ? Where were you when the two tours collapsed? Where were you when Diana died? Where were you when you heard this new? Where was she when Oscar died? She was in the basement of Jessica's house for her protection. She didn't witness the fight but she heard the screams and grunts and groans and painful moans as her sister fought against her abuser upstairs. Where was she when her father died? She was by his side and watched him take his last breath. Where was she when her mother died? She was at work. It was a day like the others. Funny how a day filled with routine, the kind you would forget because it was the same as the day before, became impossible to forget when a tragedy happened.
She could remember the metallic and menthol taste of Tig when she kissed the skin of his shoulder. A taste she got used to it, to the point of not paying attention anymore up until that day. She could remember what people around her wore at the shooting practice. Usually, she would take one look at her surroundings before focusing on shooting her targets. Yet, on that very day, she could remember the color of the dress that blonde woman on her left was wearing or the color of the chewing-gums that old man on her right, pulled out of his jacket. She could remember how hot she felt in her parlor and what she was thinking of before she got the phone call. Funny how one could think of something as trivial as vacations with their significant other before a phone call destroyed their whole world. She was thinking of going to fucking New-Mexico... and was musing about what she could get Alex to wear once they would get there.
She was in pure bliss, a newfound happiness that made her dare think of her future. She was thinking of how good it felt to be loved and gushed over Tig when she got that phone call. Was this life? One minute you were in pure bliss and the other you fell into a pit of darkness? Was it fair? No, it wasn't. She could remember that after the nurse told her that her mother passed away, she didn't hear anything else. She hung up the phone and sat at her office desk. It was to be expected, she knew a day like this would come. She prepared herself but Asma realized that you could never be ready. You could never be ready to learn that your loved ones were gone for good. She sat still, barely moving a muscle for an hour, incapable of calling or texting anyone. She was alone in that room, alone in her heart, alone in her life. At least, that's how it felt during that excruciating hour, where she couldn't even cry.
After her father died, Asma cleaned the house. She refused to do anything but clean the damn house. After her brother died, she was a confirmed alcoholic and drowned herself in Jack Daniels before she curled into a ball of shame and slept in her own puddle of tears and vomit. After Oscar died, she was a recovering alcoholic, so she didn't drink. She cleaned her office so much that she irritated the skin of her hands. After her mother died, Asma sat there for an hour before finally she grabbed a piece of paper and started to write a letter to her mother. She poured her soul into her words, telling stories that had yet to happen with Tig -such as how she was seeing them with eternally entangled lives- and telling stories that had already happened -she opened up about Oscar, the abuse and suffering, the first step to salvation with Elias Tobbins and finally, the fact she found an actual family in Jessica, SAMCRO and now Tig-. She thanked her mother, for the years of peace and love she gave her, for the life and the fight and even the loss. She thanked her mother and promised to meet her soon. She then put the letter in her drawer and closed it back. That letter wasn't for her mother, she realized. It was for her, for when she would have doubts and would be afraid, for when she would be lonely and would need comfort. For when life was grim.
She then took her phone and texted Jessica.
#Mom died.#
#Do you want to come home? I will make your favorite cake and hot cocoa. We'll watch movies and I'll give you a hug. #
#I'm coming home.# She said.
There was no question asked, no hesitation either. Like she mentioned in her letter, Home was where her family was. Her mother might have passed away, she still had a home because Jessica and her family were there, Alex was building a life with her and she herself was still alive. They were her home and she knew that her mother would rest in peace, knowing her daughter wasn't alone.
-TBC-
No comments:
Post a Comment