Love, mom.

Love, mom.


Mother died this morning.

I never did love her very much. I’ve always preferred father to her. I don’t really know why though.

They say she fell down the stairs, broke her neck on the wooden floor.

She didn’t love me either, always telling me to go play elsewhere or to leave her alone because she was too busy to deal with me. 

Her face was stiff but calm when I saw her, there was a pallor to her skin that suited her well.

Strangely I’ve never resented her for not paying attention to me, I just stopped caring.

They told me she had something like stroke and lost her balance on the first step. A silly accident.

She never tried to improve our relationship either, she completely let go of our ties.

Apparently they found a few letters she had written that were addressed to me in her drawers. They said they’ll send them over soon.

I don’t think I’ll go to her funeral. I only went to dad’s because she wasn’t there

I’ve never thought the police to be very efficient, this time isn’t an exception to that rule.

I would’ve like to not be noticed if possible, to not even know. But apparently it’s the procedure.

They didn’t think to check if slipping and falling like that was possible.

I’ll have to throw my gloves away. I like them though. Shame…

This morning, mother died.

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