Ties sever. But he doesn’t know why. Why are things this way?
He has done no wrong, yet everything tears like paper in the rain. He stands in the cold with only shame to warm his shaking body. He stares at her dimly lit window.
The only sound is a sickening silence. She does not speak to him leaving him no closure. She once begged for him to leave but he did not obey. He did not utter a single word in response.
His blue eyes are blank, empty. A spitting image of his father’s. And for that she will not let him in. The truth is buried by the deeds done, too deep to excavate. She refused to open the door when he knocked. Shivers ran up and down her spine when she saw him. She cried herself to sleep, his image burnt into her mind. She couldn’t shake it, he was part of her, embedded into her soul. She grew sick of the pain, the memories, she was shaken with horror. She had reached her breaking point on a mid-winter night. She retrieved the knife from beneath her mattress. She stepped down the stairs, through the darkness of the hall way.
No light guided her path.
She wrapped her shaking pale hands around the silver door knob and opened the door leading to the cold. Light from the flickering streetlights cascaded into the entryway of her house. She stepped out onto the blacktop of the parking lot on which he resided. She stepped nearer to him. Face to face now. Her eyes wet from tears ready to fall, yet her face remained solid, unmoved by emotion. He did not move when she drew the knife, did not quiver, his face did not question, it did not grow angry, it simply understood.
She pushed the knife through his ribcage, pulled it out, stared into her own eyes reflected on the blood, she pushed it back in. He made no effort to fight back. He simply looked her in the eyes.
“I love you mom.”
He muttered. And collapsed into the cold.