The Fire in Your Hands
Sundown
Moms funeral is today.. And I needed to get away. I couldn't though. It started out to be a hectic day. I went and bought new funeral outfits for everyone, and they all looked beautiful. I wish mom could see them.
I pulled my black charger into the funeral home, my stiletto heel catching on a piece of gravel and almost making me trip. Heels, heels, heels. Always at least five inches, everyday. Long term Cathedral training. I wasn't allowed to wear flats or sneakers. Always heels.
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"I hate these!" Tears ran down my cheeks. I just tripped for the seventh time in two days. I can't walk in these. Much less run and skip and hop and twirl and get so used to these that it's like being barefoot like they want me to. This sucks. More tears ran down my face. "What's even the point of this?! What does this ever have to do with fighting and being a spy?"
The old gray haired woman sauntered to me with sharp eyes, grabbed me by the hand and smacked me harshly on the wrist with a ruler, leaving a red mark and me scared.
"Everything. They teach you balance, and patience, they teach you to fight through the pain and after a while not to recognize pain. They also teach you to be a lady. To be elegant yet also a force to be reckoned with. Get up. Do it again."
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i thought of my old trainer as I walked into the funeral home. I was asked to come an hour early, to make sure everything was in order. I opened the doors to the chapel and saw my mother lying in a beautifully prepared room, and her final resting place. I noticed something in my mother's hands as I got closer. A white card, a pink now around it, and my name in her handwriting on it. I looked around, angry, to see if anyone was around. I stared at it for a few moments, then slowly took it from her. My hands resting on her cold ones for a few seconds, tears coating both our hands. I suppose I didn't have a great appreciation for death. I was a killer. I was desensitized to it, but now, this was my mother lying in front of me. The note slid from her hands and into mine. I backed up a few feet and sat in one of the leather chairs, slowly opening the note.
Jayelle, baby, I'm dying. After you and Andy left for New York, I was sick. I thought it was just the flu. Then it lasted for weeks, then I was better, then sick again. I didn't want to tell you two, it was the last thing you two needed on your minds. The girls didn't know. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you. It was so much more than the flu. The doctors said I didn't have much time. When you came home, I was so relieved that I would see you again. That I could have a bit of time left to see my daughter be the immaculate woman she is. I love you. I'm sorry I won't be there for your wedding, when your babies are born, to see my grandchildren. To even see Karolina grow up. I know you'll be wonderful. You love your family more than anything. My best accomplishment was you.
I love you more than anything, dead or alive.
Mom.
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I love this sequel!
8/31/14