Hindsight

It all happened over money, lots of money. Our mother held the keys to a vast fortune, one where the money would be passed on when she died. The problem was we didn’t know that, only the men who help create it knew.

My mother was a paranoid woman, which considering what happened was a good thing. Too bad it didn’t save her. She only became paranoid after she met someone in a similar situation as her. This lady was loaded; she kept any and everything having to do with her money close to her chest.

I still remember the day that changed everything. At the time I thought it was for the best, but now I know it was wrong. If I would’ve known then what I know now things would’ve ended differently. It was the day I sealed my mother’s fate.

Mother had just suspended my weekly allowance for stealing from a clothing store. I was so angry and stupid. I was seventeen when I did that, one year older and I would’ve gone to jail. I was so arrogant, I was rich I could do anything I wanted. The laws didn’t apply to me.

I had no concept of getting a job or working for pay; I thought I was entitled to the money. I was wrong. For two months without pay, the idea had me fuming at the mouth. I was ripe for the pickings and my father and siblings knew, taking advantage of the situation.

I may have acted like a spoiled brat but my relationship with my mother was something special. I loved her; she was my hero. She defied society and mad her own rules. I got many nasty looks for my attitude when I was out with my mother, but the siblings were much worse.

I didn’t know this then, I thought it was them just constantly fighting, but they were trying to swindle mothers money from out from under her. I was just to naïve to see it. Luckily my mother knew better and kept her will hidden.

There was only one thing my mother asked of me: never tell anybody where the book was. It was her most precious thing. She had gotten it from her father; she cherished it as much as she cherished me.

Mother was called away that day. As soon as she was gone father came and confronted me. He kept saying how I shouldn’t have been treated so badly, that we had more than enough money. I was so ticked off that I couldn’t help but agree. I had plans to go to France for a week with my girlfriends.

Father told me about the item mother cherished the most that it held the great value, plus it would be a way to get back at mother. I was in; a devilish smile crossed my face. I told him about the book how she kept it in the top draw with the combination being 5-23-11.

Father rushed to the desk, opened the door and pulled the book out. He shook it and paper fell out. Father through the book and greedily read the papers. He sat the paper down and smiled. He praised me by giving me all the money in his wallet and walked away. Grabbing my brother by the back, he whispered something and they both cheered.

I didn’t understand their joy and I didn’t care, I got my money I was happy. Who cared about anything else? I left the room loving my father a little bit more. Mother deserved it and would get over it.

A week later mother was found died, and I felt like it was somehow my fault. I soon found out her will left everything to my siblings and me, to be held in trust by our father until we were eighteen. My brother and sister were over eighteen so they got their money, my father got mine. After that everything went to shit.

Granddad came down and starting interrogating me. I was at the age where blame could be giving in harsh words and actions. I told him about the book and fathers actions. Granddad starting yelling at me, telling me I should be died not his daughter. Then he left to find father and my siblings but they were gone. Granddad blamed me and left. Just turning seventeen, I was put into foster care where I learned the true meaning of horror.

***

The year of hell changed me. I became aggressive and mean. I was constantly lonely but that was my fault. I became a squatter and thief. I was in and out of jail.

At my point of desperation, I searched out my family for help and my inheritance. To my surprise they were living the high life in Mexico on some beach. As soon as they saw me they put a gun to me and told me to leave. Telling me that I was nothing and I killed our mother. I agreed in my mind but in body I attacked them, killing my dad and getting shot by my sister and barely escaping my brother.

I ran, they followed. I kept running, they stopped following. But it didn’t matter at that point, I had already lost it. Some cop in Texas found me a week later; I was sentenced to a mental ward where I’ve been the last sixty years of my life.

With nothing else to live for I can fell death on my heels. So I lay in bed knowing that hell is saving me a spot, which I will gladly take.

Before sleep can take me I hear a noise by the bared window. I groan as I get out of bed, my body is so old and worn it surprises me that I don’t fall.

In the window is a light, a light like no other. My heart is thudding in my chest; I stumble back falling to the floor. I scream in agony as my hip breaks. I scream and scream but no one comes.

The light seeps through the glass. There was a loud hum then the light expands. I cover my eyes, screaming at the same time. The light dies and my voice echoes off the walls joining the chorus of all the other screams.

I remove my hands. There drifting from the ceiling was a single glowing flower. It looked just like the one from my childhood. It swayed back and forth taking it’s time falling.

I got to my feet and limp to the flower, standing directly under it. The glow was soft and warm. I wonder if I have already died. It looks so unreal.

Suddenly a thought enters my mind, one that I wish to be true. If I could go back I would change the fate alternating event. Going through what I lived and remembering the horrors, the pain, I would change that fateful day.

I open my hand welcoming the flower. I stare down into it petals, darkness at the edge of my vision. I close my eyes savoring the warmth.

The screaming dies down, the musty moldy sent of the hospital is replaced by fresh wind, my bones no longer ache. I open my eyes.

I am in a grove. The sun filters through the branches of the towering trees. The scent of spring and the water of the nearby pond makes my eyes water in nostalgia. I remember this moment sixty-eight years ago. I have already lived it. This is where I found the flower the day before I got suspended and indirectly killed my mother.

I wait to awake in the dinghy room, but nothing happens. The sun moves over head. I look at the flower in my hands. The red reminds me of all the blood I’ve spilled. That when I make up my mind. Even if this is a dream, I will make the most of it.

I run home and call the only person that will believe me and take action…Granddad. I will do everything the same way but this time mother won’t die, father will pay. Once the call is made I try to remember why I’m trying to get my father in trouble. The memories of my past, feel like an old dream. I try to grab it but it seeps through my fingers. All I know is if I don’t do this, I have not learned. However, the lesson is one I can’t remember; I can only feel it in my being. I have to do this.