The Puppet Master

*Jenny's POV*

I opened the gate, feeling the cold door handle on my bare hands. They were close to turn to ice - maybe I should've put on some gloves.
My mother went in - her face as frozen as my hand - and headed towards Alex's grave.

I asked her to talk about his accident. I wanted to say sorry, even if it wasn't my fault. There was no other way to make her talk to me again. It was hard to ignore my pride and just give in.
So we both went to the graveyard.

She folded her hands, closed her eyes and started to pray.
I did the same - at least I acted like that. My mom was very religious so she could've been upset if I wouldn't have done it.
After those seconds of silence from the mountain of wordless moments passed by, I finally took a breath to start talking. With her presence it was even harder to find the right words.

"Mom, I uh.. He..." I wanted to shrivel up when her brown, yet still cold, eyes saw down on me. It took some moments until I calmed down a little, but it wasn't easier to be honest.. "I-I am sorry... I didn't want this to happen. I... I didn't want you to distance yourself from me. I didn't want to loose.. Alex. C-can we just forget this or at least move on?"
My voice and hands were shaking like boats on the sea and my eyes became wet like they were the wayves which caused the trembling. It wasn't crying, it was opening old wounds - a slight difference.
Old, opened scars only raised pain. It is rarely worth anything for the concerned person in stark contrast to crying which normally helped getting over something.

My mother bit her lip. Seeing her own daughter that weak and hurt wasn't easy for her. She knew about me not feeling comfortable with her distance, but I've never showed her how much it really wrecked me.
Her expression was either derogative or caring, maybe also pity - you couldn't see it as always.

I tried to stay strong and took all my strength again to ask while I wiped away some tears, "..can we?"
After a sigh came out of her mouth she said something, too, "I'll think about it."
"Thank you," I was happy I just said what I wanted her to know for such a long time already.

Then - after 2 years - we finally hugged each other again. It migh not have been the most beautiful, or the warmest hug - maybe it was the weirdest - but it was a little wonder to me. I haven't expected her to do this again and I honestly really missed that feeling.

But even when she hugged me, I couldn't stop thinking negatively. I kept imagining how she rejected me, still hated me, couldn't forgive me. Thinking about it meant that ignoring me was still a salvation to her.
The worst thing was: I had to wait until she'd give me an answer.

Notes

~MarryBerry