My Favourite Mother || A Weekend FreeWrite

Hey There SteemVerse

I haven't done this in quite some time. It is these FreeWrites that kept me going in the initial stages here on the Steem Blockchain all thanks to @mariannewest.

If you have never done this before go with the single prompts. There's one dropped every single day. If you want a bit of a challenge, you can always jump in the deep end :)

Let's do this...

"Then play, please," Jonny said. He sang "Dig my grave with a Silver Spade"...

and she drummed her fingers lightly to his tone deaf singing. She wasn't entirely sure because he had asked her to accompany him, or to drown him out. Her irritation was mounting, and her self talk to keep calm came in spurts mixed with what she'd like to say to him.

The mat he had tripped over, lay at an angle and the voice in her head kept urging her to grab it and whack him with it. Maybe along with it some sense. Her actual voice had already told him to do it twice before he decided he was going to croon her to death.

She looked at the second hand and counted under her breath. She could have counted out loud, at the top of her voice, he wouldn't have cared. She was convinced he had an in built switch, shutting her out at will. Especially when he was singing. But then again, maybe all that off key singing had just made him deaf.

The irony. His mother had named him after Johnny Cash but of course she had misspelt his name. Perhaps that made him off key by half a note. Perhaps the mother's to be blamed. Isn't it always the mother's fault?

Knock Knock!!!

Yup!! Right on cue. Sometimes she wondered if Becky waited for these nights, just so she can sashay over with her provocative nighties to tell them to keep it down.

She stared at him as she walked over to the door. Willing him to shut up but he continued, oblivious or perhaps in anticipation. Becky and Jonny had an affair, the whole town knew of it, though Becky was married to Carl at that time.

Becky looked like she was in pain as she smiled at her. "Hey, how's it going? Lil Johnny is sleeping and I don't want him to wake up. I can hear Mr. Idol here through the walls...."

Jonny didn't stop singing and sauntered over and without missing a beat, he sang off tune of the song's melody
"Hey Becky, did you have a hair cut? It really suits you."

In a rage, she puts her finger through her hair. Paul, who was waiting for a reaction, goes on. He had seen her twitching and prepared himself.

Continuing with "Jonny's song" that she had been humming, in the hopes that if he pretended she wasn't going to lose it, she wouldn't. Paul's singing was just as bad if not worse even though, named after Paul Anka, the name was not mispelt. It was now turning out to be quite a mad house. She could see neighbours peeking through curtains. One even blasted the volume of her TV in the hopes of shutting them out.

Becky looked at her and took a step back. She had seen that mad look in her eyes enough times to know it was time to leave. As she took a step back, she smiled at Jonny, then turned around with a little flick of her new hair cut and strutted back next door, making sure that everything on her that could jiggle, jiggled. She could feel the anger consume her. So many things she wanted to say, but nothing was coming out.

Paul came over with big gestures not wanting to startle her. She didn't like surprises, and it was always a trigger. It was like a spring coiling, and any sudden movements the spring will release all the way to the moon and back.

She ignored Paul, starring at Becky even though Becky had already gone in. She wasn't really listening to Paul as he started talking about inconsequential things. It was nonsense. He was reminding her of things, but she couldn't remember anything. She just knew that they were memories because he kept saying "Remember?"

"Remember, Lassie? He was such a silly dog...
Remember, Dorothy from Wizard Of Oz? She was your favourite character....
Remember Mangosteens? You loved eating them, just maybe not the stains they left on your clothes....

She turned to look at him, her thoughts were on Jonny and Becky, her thoughts were on the neighbour, her thoughts were on Paul and the things he was saying....She felt a sudden sadness come over her. She started laughing, laughing so loud that the neighbour brought up the volume of the TV even higher.

"Hey" Paul said gently reaching out for her hand. Come sit down. You shouldn't be on your feet. That made her look at her feet.

She stared at her twisted ankle. It was in a very awkward angle. She looked up at Paul as the pain came flooding in. She lost her balance, and Paul caught her. lifting the frail woman she had become over to the sofa.

She started sobbing. "I am calling Doctor Atticus," he said as he placed the phone to his ear. The Doctor was on speed dial for these very moments.

Paul wanted to walk away so she wouldn't have to hear the conversation, but he wasn't sure if she should be left alone. The phone rang but no one was picking up.

She sat there looking at her wrinkled skin. Her twisted ankle throbbing. But the pain in her heart was far worse. She couldn't move, her body felt weak, she wanted out. She wanted to join Jonny.

Jonny, her favourite son. Jonny, the boy who was a little off center. Jonny who was awkward around girls until Becky. Becky who made him do things for her that always got him into trouble. Until the cops opened fire thinking he had a weapon. But all he had was the picture of Lil Johnny, which he had just found out was his and not Carl's.

When the knock on the door came and she had opened it to see the cops outside, she just knew. She just knew that all the cover ups, all his life had finally caught up. She wailed as everything came flooding back. But no amount of tears would drown out the immense pain of loss.

Paul watched his Mum as he hung up. The last 127 days had been torture for her and for him. She kept living in the past, going through all the things she could have done different. Sometimes she spoke about it, most times she just stared into nothing.

Paul may not have been her favourite son, but she was his favourite mother and he needed to do right by her. Dr Atticus wasn't picking up, probably with another patient. The good doctor will call him back the first chance he got. It had to be done and it had to be done now.

The neighbour was watching some Korean drama. The walls in these terrace houses were too thin. He took the cushion and very gently smothered her, careful not to leave any marks. He had to be the good son, the one who took care of her and Jonny. The best he could do for her was send her to Jonny.

If you want to give it a go, head on over to @mariannewest and get your prompt for the day. If you want to read what the other FreeWriters have done with the Weekend Prompt, click on this

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