Mom's Tears

Status: Finished

Mom's Tears

Status: Finished

Mom's Tears Mom's Tears

Short Story by: Raven Hainsworth

Genre: Horror

Houses:

Short Story by: Raven Hainsworth

Details

Genre: Horror

Houses:

Summary

A horror-mystery.

Summary

A horror-mystery.

Content

Submitted: May 22, 2013

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Content

Submitted: May 22, 2013

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 I was walking home from school one stormy afternoon. The clouds were moving against each other in various shades of grey. The sun was nowhere to be seen, nor it's light. As I turned right I saw that the road to my house was flooded with water and mud, and police were there, saying how the water current was moving too fast and you would fall and could be drained away. Pssh, like that was going to happen. Anyways, I tried to cross it and of course, they didn't let me.

 

“It would be a fine day to take a detour, Missy.” One of the policemen said to me.

 

So of course, I had to take a detour to my house. Luckily, I remembered a path that me and my mom used to take when I was younger, but she committed suicide after she had some ”hallucinations”.

 

I started walking to where the path was and thought of memories of my mom. Her smile, her warm cookies and hot cocoa when me and my brothers came home from school, and most of all, when she cried. When she cried, it was the most beautiful and most saddening sight you could ever see. The odd thing was, her tears were pleasantly warm.

 

I stepped in front of the alley.

 

"Sure is a lot darker than I remembered...Must be because of the rain and stuff..." I said to myself.

 

The path was an alleyway overgrown with weeds and littered trash. And also, oddly, pieces of very, very fine jewelry. However, Mom would tell me to never, ever touch any of the jewelry and to try to not even look at it. I don't know why she said that, but she must've picked it up after because she always had lots of money on hand. I wasn't interested in jewelry anyways.

 

I took a deep breathe and walked into the dark alley. With every step I took, I felt as if it got colder and darker. It became so dark I couldn't see where I was going. I walked for about 5 minutes and stopped.

“This is taking a lot longer than it used to take.....There should've been a turn a few minutes ago..” I got a chill through my spine.

 

Then, to my right, I saw a gold pendant on the mud, embedded with alternating patterns of deep blue sapphire and gradient-ed amethyst gems.. I know I said I didn't like jewelry, but this...was something else.

 

I reached out to grab it when suddenly, I thought I heard my mom yell, “Stop!”.

 

I jumped back a good five feet, falling into some trashcans which made a loud clanking sound. A dog sounded far off in the distance. It thundered, and started to rain. I pulled out my collapsible umbrella out of my backpack and snapped it open. The rain poured harder.

 

I started to walk again, trying to forget about the pendant and why I thought I heard my Mom's voice, but I couldn't help but to look at the pendant again....

 

“Just.....one last peek for one last time” I thought.

 

I turned my head around to see the pendant lying there, and somehow twinkling although it was really dark in the alley. I stared at it for what seemed like hours, for it seemed to be beckoning to me. Again, I reached out to grab it. For some stupid reason I expected my Mom to yell, “Stop!” again, but she wasn't there of course. As soon as I grabbed it, the air around me suddenly felt colder and the rain poured even harder. I started to run home as my collapsible umbrella was cheap and could not hold up the pounding rain for long. And for some reason, I felt like I was being....watched.

 

I heard a scream coming from my palms, and I jumped back. I slipped in the mud and fell onto the cold, dirty floor. I quickly looked at the pendant where the scream came from, and stared in disbelief and horror. It just couldn't be real. It...couldn't. There, was a picture of my Mom – bloody, mutilated, and dead.

 

I lost all of my energy and fell flat on the mud. My umbrella rolled to my side and drops of warm rain fell on my cheeks. The last thing I heard was sobbing, sobbing that sounded like......my mom's.  


© Copyright 2016 Raven Hainsworth. All rights reserved.

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