another Help_NZ drabble, sort of...
chaila43 won some 100-word drabbles from me for help_nz. She said, "I'd LOVE Riley and Sarah from either of their POVs, like if Riley knows of Sarah from the future, or Riley and Cameron, again from either POV," and here is the first of them (although the first drabble kinda comes with a Sarah voiceover which is longer than the drabble itself):
There comes a time in every mother’s life that her child must live on his own without her interference, no matter how well meaning and sometimes welcome it might be. For good or ill, he must stand or fall on his own. If his mother has taught him well, his decisions will be the ones that lead toward success and continued life and health rather than failure and death.
That time will come to every mother, but not every mother must feel the weight of the survival of the human race slip from her shoulders to those of her child, nor must she understand how that sudden shift can itself be a weight almost too great to bear. -- Sarah Connor, November 2007
Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. Her synapses stopped firing, shutting down the pathways of communication between brain, nerves, muscles. Her lungs expelled the air they held and took in no more. The world tilted.
“Hi, Mom.” The girl beside John waved, smiling; just that quickly, the world righted itself.
John stood defiantly beside Riley From School, whose smile faded in the face of Sarah’s stare. She couldn’t be more than sixteen, open and friendly, but something about her jarred. Sarah’s internal warning bells screamed and she didn’t think it was merely a petty reaction to a rival for John’s attention.
There comes a time in every mother’s life that her child must live on his own without her interference, no matter how well meaning and sometimes welcome it might be. For good or ill, he must stand or fall on his own. If his mother has taught him well, his decisions will be the ones that lead toward success and continued life and health rather than failure and death.
That time will come to every mother, but not every mother must feel the weight of the survival of the human race slip from her shoulders to those of her child, nor must she understand how that sudden shift can itself be a weight almost too great to bear. -- Sarah Connor, November 2007
Sarah’s heart skipped a beat. Her synapses stopped firing, shutting down the pathways of communication between brain, nerves, muscles. Her lungs expelled the air they held and took in no more. The world tilted.
“Hi, Mom.” The girl beside John waved, smiling; just that quickly, the world righted itself.
John stood defiantly beside Riley From School, whose smile faded in the face of Sarah’s stare. She couldn’t be more than sixteen, open and friendly, but something about her jarred. Sarah’s internal warning bells screamed and she didn’t think it was merely a petty reaction to a rival for John’s attention.