Memories (A Monologue)

(This is something that I wrote for one of my characters: It's not a starter or anything, just something I wrote. But if you like it and inspires you to create a story with her that'd be pretty amazing.) After mom died, everything changed. I kind of knew that it would. After all, she was the only family I had left. After splitting with dad, he disappeared and I haven't seen him since. But I figure that sort of thing happens when you owe a substantial amount of debt. Mom was always a hard worker, but after the divorce, we had to move and then she stopped working so hard to look after me more closely. There were times I wished she didn't; times when she'd be more annoying than helpful in any way. But I wasn't blind to it. I couldn't be. My affliction wouldn't let me. An 'Aberrant,' that was what everyone called me. It's not like I was born disfigured or slow and that was kind of the point. My brainwaves are a little different, my reflexes are a bit faster...and my luck is horrible. Those are the only things that matter, but what everyone else sees are my eyes.They're blue, but more like sapphire gemstones more than a natural color of blue. None of that really mattered until about middle school that was when everything started to go downhill; When I learned just what it meant to be different. And then the divorce happened. It was around that time that I began to think, “What exactly is a person's worth?” After elementary school, the concept of friends sort of reversed itself on me. All the people who were my friends in elementary school distanced themselves from me and the new people who wanted to be my 'friends' only called did so when they wanted something from me. So what, exactly, was my worth? When my differences truly became apparent even my dad wanted something from me. “People are worth only as much as they are needed.” I discovered that answer naturally. That's right, we'll lie to get what we want and we'll step on each other to be needed by someone else. I was needed too. Or rather, the 'Aberrant' that was me was needed. I kind of began to understand what stairs felt like. “My sole purpose is to be stepped on and walked over.” I had already begun thinking like that by the time mom started paying attention to me. And I just wanted to be left alone. Annoyingly, she wouldn't do that. Every other day she'd force me to do something with her. Go grocery shopping, rent a movie, watch it together. Go to the movies, maybe a trip to the zoo. Whatever. I wish I could have been a typical teenager and rebel or something, but I went along with it. After all, she needed me. It was a need that was different from what I was used to. A possessive need; she never wanted me to go beyond her sight. Even as I went into high school, she kept me close. And yet, even though I knew she was doing all this for me, even though nothing was supposed to escape me, somehow or other she managed to keep it a secret from me that she had been gotten sick. Thinking back on it, it was around the latter half of my first year in high school. I remember her having a doctor's appointment. She was probably going there a lot, but I didn't really notice it since I was always in school and she was her usual self by the time I got back. By the end of that summer, it struck me that she was really sick. But even then, she didn't tell me what was wrong. Before the year was out though she recovered and we went back to our usual schedule like before. But it happened again the next year. She fell sick once again and had to be hospitalized. It was strange, being called into the counselor's office one day and being given the news. I went to the hospital and I couldn't believe it even when I saw it. There was Mom, in a hospital bed, wearing a hospital gown, with bland looking food given to her. I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything the entire time, but I remember her trying to give me a cookie or something. The Republic of Terra has some pretty lax laws, I realized then. In some other country, I probably would have been handed over to some government service program, but I was allowed to stay home and keep going to school. Mom stayed in the hospital for a month, maybe, before she came home. Between then, I had been told the truth. Mom was sick with cancer...and she was going to die. Honestly, when the school counselor told me that, I didn't take him seriously. This was Terra, after all. This Continental City had the best technology in the world. Surely, they could beat cancer with some treatment. But that treatment had been tried already, the cancer had just come back. Turns out it was pretty stubborn. Once or twice, I think the counselor tried to tell me that, but I didn't believe him at all. Mom had gotten better before and she came back home. But this mom wasn't my mom. She wasn't the same person. Gone was the workaholic that had accidentally gotten pregnant and randomly decided to get married and have a family. Gone was the woman who tried to make up for being so absorbed in her work by invading my life. What came home was a husk of that person. It was a woman who was on Intravenous Therapy. She moved around the house at first, but eventually became bedridden. Even getting up was painful for her. I tried not thinking about it. I shut my brain off at some point. A couple of times a week some people from the hospital dropped by and left some food while I was at school. And then, one night, “I'd rather die here on my bed than in some hospital, Al.” She said that to me in what had become her voice. 'Die' why did you say that? Don't say that word. I rejected those words, but I didn't say anything like “You'll get better for sure.” Even I wasn't that stupid. That summer was a tough one. Our apartment, our small, two-bedroom apartment that had praised for its cleanness was filled with a horrible smell. Day by day, my mother got thinner and thinner. I didn't have a reason to, but I went to summer school to escape that place. The food that she dropped by started building up in our refrigerator. She wasn't eating them anymore. At some point, I realized that I hadn't seen her walk or stand in a while. Before I even knew it, she was back in the hospital. Organ failure, inability to speak, those sorts of details were relayed back to me since I wasn't allowed to go to the hospital. I remembered her wish, but I couldn't do anything about that. And then, she was gone. On that day, the world broke. And I broke right along with it. I'll never forget it. I was in school then, approaching time for us to go home when I felt it. A tremendous pain in my chest, an outpouring of emotions, before I really knew why, before anyone told me, I was bawling my eyes out. After that, everything changed. I couldn't stay at home after that. That goodwill organization, Providence, became my legal guardian then. They would have liked for me to stay home, continue going to school and would have paid for the apartment until I graduated, but I couldn't even stay there a single night. There was nothing there. Nothing but memories. At first, I tried hating her. I desperately tried to hate her. She never paid any attention to me when I was young, only ever cared about herself...I tried to think that and it worked for exactly ten seconds. Ah, we can't go to shopping anymore. Ah, we could never go to that video store and rent a video or take trips to the zoo or anything anymore. It was impossible. 'Never' had never been Thinking like that, I'd start crying all over again. Memories. Now I realize why it's important to forget things. An extreme, oppressive loneliness filled that apartment and I found myself leaving in the middle of the night to escape it. I didn't go back. Not for my stuff, not for any memorabilia. I ran away from it, from that loneliness, those memories and that life. Thanks to Providence, I could. To a new District, a new dormitory. A room that is little more than a box with a bed and desk and single window. A new life, I thought getting a new one would let me be free again, but... since then, everything changed. I changed.