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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1800470-This-Is-How-It-Feels-To-Finally-Cry
Rated: 13+ · Other · Detective · #1800470
It is about a woman who has to avenge the murder of her son.
A boy once told me that tears fall like bright diamonds. I told that boy that tears made you weak. I still don't know if I'm right or wrong.

I wake up in a cold sweat, it plays over and over in my mind. The day my child died. "Mom, please stop crying, please," he says over and over in my mind. His face projected everywhere. Those bright green eyes staring into my foggy grey ones. His auburn hair coated in a deep scarlet. "Mom? mom? mom?" over and over.

He was seventeen, and going into a new school. We'd had to move because my my work had moved me. We left our home in Michigan and headed over seas, to England. I worked in one of the government's secret corporations. OCR, the Overseas Communication Representatives, had moved me from the office into field work. Allister, of course, had to come with me.

He had complained that he'd never see any of his friends, his father, or his girlfriend. His father and I had split up because he had gotten arrested for aggravated assault. I told him that we hadn't much of a choice but to move. He wasn't happy, but he came. When we arrived, we found our home to be near the castle. Allister got adjusted to his new school without much difficulty and we lived peacefully until the first summer.

July eighteenth was the day I got my first assignment. I was told that the queen was negotiating her son's wedding to an american girl. This matter was of grand importance, so I couldn't pass. It happened to fall on his seventeenth birthday, though. I had promised him we'd spend the day together, and he held me up to my word. He came with me.

I wish I had never let him. Day and night, all the time. That horrid sound haunts me. I often find myself unable to move because of it. I can't hold a gun anymore. Every time I see one, I start screaming Allister's name.

When I got to her majesty's home, she summoned us. "This is the young lady who wishes to marry my son. Her name is Alice Dunns. Her personality seems to be, err, colorful," said the queen. Alice was not in the room. We were looking at her record. She was my son's old math teacher, and I told the queen all I knew about her. Allister was sitting in a chair, reading, when the queen asked us to leave. Allister and I walked by a large window on our way out and a sudden movement caught his eye. "Mom!" he roared. I turned my head and saw a man holding a gun aimed at me.

Time seemed to slow down. The man fired and my son jumped for me. I watched the bullet come toward me and Allister fly through the air and land against me. I heard the bullet puncture his stomach, and hit the ground. Deep, crimson red was spreading fast through his stomach. It had formed a large pool and his auburn hair seemed to shimmer red. Someone was screaming, and later I found out that person was me.

I was sobbing and he looked up at me. His bright green eyes were boring into mine, and he said, "Mom, please stop crying, please." That was the last thing he ever said. In order to make my son's last words more important, I vowed to never cry again. The lights faded from his eyes and they became glassy. The queen had called the guards immediately and I was escorted out.

Ever since then, I have hunted that man. Today is no different. I carry with me three guns, two knives, and seven vials of deadly poison. I add five poison tipped darts and walk out the door. Seventeen items total. It was about two in the morning when I found him. He was in the bushes aiming a hand gun at me. I jumped out of the way before he fired and slipped mine out of my sleeve. He looked at me and I stared at him. "Who the hell hired you?" I asked him. "Well, since one of us is about to die, I'll tell you. Mister Wallace Grendel," he said. I nod and aim my gun. At the same time, we fire. My gun has a special device in it that makes my bullets go faster. I hit the ground and my bullet goes cleanly through his skull. His whizzes past me and hits my car.

For three years, I hunted him and he hunted me. Its over now. I look up at the sky and whisper, "Allister, can I cry now?" One, small, insignificant rain drop falls and lands on my eye. It streaks down my face like a tear, and I have my answer. I lower myself to the ground and cry until the dawn. I hide the man's body, clean the blood, and sit in the dewy grass. Tears streak down my face as my neighbors walk out. Three or four people come over to me. I ignore them and stumble into my house. I have finally done the only thing that kept me here. I sat on my bed for days, just sobbing. I barely ate and when I wasn't crying, I was packing.

On my final day of packing, I grab my final picture of my son, walk outside and head to the lake. I let his picture free and go home. I finish packing and go back to Michigan. I live there, alone, for five years and then something truly amazing happens to me.

I was sitting outside. It was Allister's twenty-fifth birthday. I noticed something fluttering in the breeze. It landed on my lap. I was looking down at my son's face. He was smiling up at me. I looked at him and whispered happy birthday. I put the picture in my room and went back outside.

Later that night, I decided I was ready to join my son. I went to the lake and lowered myself into the water. I let myself fall asleep.

I join my son and together we climb the stairway to Heaven,
© Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Loyola (emylibb1021 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1800470-This-Is-How-It-Feels-To-Finally-Cry