Three Mothers
Title: Three Mothers
Authors: speaky_bean
Characters/Pairings: Sachiko, Ms. Mikami, OC (Mello’s mother), their children
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 959
Notes: I haven't participated in dn_contest in a while, but I had some free time recently and thought I should. Anyway, I’m sure none of you are particularly surprised, but this story is about mothers. Sachiko, Ms. Mikami, and Mello’s mother are all waiting for their sons to come home. These three women approach the subject very differently. Anyway, enjoy!
I am consoling myself for the sixteenth time since the hour of your usual homecoming. Well, maybe consoling isn’t quite the right word. It’s not as if I’m broken by this. I’m not. I know exactly where you are, who you’re with, and what you’re doing there. I know that tonight you’re coming home at nine instead of six. I know this because you told me so, and you don't lie about things like that. If it were Sayu then I’d be worried, if it were Sayu I might have called to school to make sure there really was a school assembly that lasted so long into the night. But it’s you, so I can be “consoled” by busying myself with the dishes, and by reminding myself of how good it is of you to put all this extra effort into your education.
Of course I miss you-I always miss you, every moment you’re not with me I do. But I’m not worried. I know you’re at school, and I know that you’re smart enough to walk home alone after dark. I trust you, even if this nagging coil of fear in my stomach doesn’t trust you as much as it should. My fears about criminal attacks are probably unfounded, based on years of hearing your father’s horror stories and not the realities of coming home from school at nine o’clock.
So if I happen to cross your mind tonight, don’t worry. I know where you are and I know you’re okay. I’m not panicking. I’m cooking dinner-it’s okonomiyaki tonight-and listening to the radio. I won’t even worry if you’re home a little later than you said you’d be-you promised nine, but I swear I won’t mind if you get caught up talking to a friend on the way home. If you’re out past ten then I’ll start to worry, but I know you won’t be. I’m fine, because all this is is waiting.
~`~`~
You should have been home three hours ago, and you are not the type of kid who comes home late for no reason. If you had something to do at school, you’d tell me, grumbling the whole time about how this is wrecking your schedule and you’re going to have reorganize everything. What your so-called “schedule” entails when you’re eleven years old is beyond me, but there you go. Anyway, so if you had something to do, I’d know about it. And I hate to admit it, but Teru, you don’t have any friends.
So then, why the fuck aren’t you home yet? I’ve been glued to the TV waiting for news of some train derailment or an on-the-street murder, God knows why I think that’s plausible, but I do. You’re making me panic, kid, and I don’t appreciate it.
If you weren’t you, I wouldn’t be all that worried. Other kids do have friends, and they forget to tell their parents when they’re out with them. Mostly, they aren’t doing anything wrong, they’re just self-centered little jerks who don’t realize that they have mothers waiting up for them. Maybe, when they’re a little older than you are, they’re drinking or they’re fucking, or they’re something, but they’re fine. And you, Teru, you’re not fine.
Chances are that if you’re late and I don’t know why you’re late, it’s because something liketerrible happened that you couldn’t get away from. Thanks to your meddling and your meaningless martyr behavior, chances are that right now you’re either being beaten to a pulp, or you’re lying in a gutter with blood coming out of your head.
And that, Teru, is why I’m calling the police. And if they don’t find you within one hour, I’m going to get in the car and find you myself. I am not going to wait anymore.
~`~`~
My two best friends have boys your age, and my two best friends are always complaining about how those boys don’t keep them posted on where they are and when they’re going to be home. They forget, most of them, that my boy was taken away from me. Maybe they don’t forget. Maybe they think I’d like to hear about how irritating it is to raise one of these creatures to adulthood, so I won’t think I’m missing anything. Maybe they simply don’t care. But every time they tell me what expensive vase Vlad just broke or how much quickly Illya drank up all the orange juice, I end up thinking of you, my Mihael. I want you here messing up my house and staying out late and screaming at me. I don’t care what you do, I just want you here.
Olga and Ekaterina complain about waiting for their sons to come back for six hours. I’ve been waiting for you to come back for six years. I’ve stopped going out-I used to go our every night, that’s one of the reasons why they took you away-so I can be here in case you come home. Olga and Ekaterina think I’m crazy, but Olga and Ekaterina don’t know what it’s like to have their entire world ripped out of their arms.
Mihael, try to remember the times I was a good mother. Remember the time I took you to the movies and bought you another popcorn after you’d dropped the first one? And remember how I yelled at the man who made you drop it? Remember how much I loved you, and how I told you that all the time? Does anybody in your new life love you as much as I do, my baby? I doubt it. But they’re probably telling you how terrible I am. Don’t believe them. Come back to me. I’ll be waiting.
Authors: speaky_bean
Characters/Pairings: Sachiko, Ms. Mikami, OC (Mello’s mother), their children
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 959
Notes: I haven't participated in dn_contest in a while, but I had some free time recently and thought I should. Anyway, I’m sure none of you are particularly surprised, but this story is about mothers. Sachiko, Ms. Mikami, and Mello’s mother are all waiting for their sons to come home. These three women approach the subject very differently. Anyway, enjoy!
I am consoling myself for the sixteenth time since the hour of your usual homecoming. Well, maybe consoling isn’t quite the right word. It’s not as if I’m broken by this. I’m not. I know exactly where you are, who you’re with, and what you’re doing there. I know that tonight you’re coming home at nine instead of six. I know this because you told me so, and you don't lie about things like that. If it were Sayu then I’d be worried, if it were Sayu I might have called to school to make sure there really was a school assembly that lasted so long into the night. But it’s you, so I can be “consoled” by busying myself with the dishes, and by reminding myself of how good it is of you to put all this extra effort into your education.
Of course I miss you-I always miss you, every moment you’re not with me I do. But I’m not worried. I know you’re at school, and I know that you’re smart enough to walk home alone after dark. I trust you, even if this nagging coil of fear in my stomach doesn’t trust you as much as it should. My fears about criminal attacks are probably unfounded, based on years of hearing your father’s horror stories and not the realities of coming home from school at nine o’clock.
So if I happen to cross your mind tonight, don’t worry. I know where you are and I know you’re okay. I’m not panicking. I’m cooking dinner-it’s okonomiyaki tonight-and listening to the radio. I won’t even worry if you’re home a little later than you said you’d be-you promised nine, but I swear I won’t mind if you get caught up talking to a friend on the way home. If you’re out past ten then I’ll start to worry, but I know you won’t be. I’m fine, because all this is is waiting.
~`~`~
You should have been home three hours ago, and you are not the type of kid who comes home late for no reason. If you had something to do at school, you’d tell me, grumbling the whole time about how this is wrecking your schedule and you’re going to have reorganize everything. What your so-called “schedule” entails when you’re eleven years old is beyond me, but there you go. Anyway, so if you had something to do, I’d know about it. And I hate to admit it, but Teru, you don’t have any friends.
So then, why the fuck aren’t you home yet? I’ve been glued to the TV waiting for news of some train derailment or an on-the-street murder, God knows why I think that’s plausible, but I do. You’re making me panic, kid, and I don’t appreciate it.
If you weren’t you, I wouldn’t be all that worried. Other kids do have friends, and they forget to tell their parents when they’re out with them. Mostly, they aren’t doing anything wrong, they’re just self-centered little jerks who don’t realize that they have mothers waiting up for them. Maybe, when they’re a little older than you are, they’re drinking or they’re fucking, or they’re something, but they’re fine. And you, Teru, you’re not fine.
Chances are that if you’re late and I don’t know why you’re late, it’s because something liketerrible happened that you couldn’t get away from. Thanks to your meddling and your meaningless martyr behavior, chances are that right now you’re either being beaten to a pulp, or you’re lying in a gutter with blood coming out of your head.
And that, Teru, is why I’m calling the police. And if they don’t find you within one hour, I’m going to get in the car and find you myself. I am not going to wait anymore.
~`~`~
My two best friends have boys your age, and my two best friends are always complaining about how those boys don’t keep them posted on where they are and when they’re going to be home. They forget, most of them, that my boy was taken away from me. Maybe they don’t forget. Maybe they think I’d like to hear about how irritating it is to raise one of these creatures to adulthood, so I won’t think I’m missing anything. Maybe they simply don’t care. But every time they tell me what expensive vase Vlad just broke or how much quickly Illya drank up all the orange juice, I end up thinking of you, my Mihael. I want you here messing up my house and staying out late and screaming at me. I don’t care what you do, I just want you here.
Olga and Ekaterina complain about waiting for their sons to come back for six hours. I’ve been waiting for you to come back for six years. I’ve stopped going out-I used to go our every night, that’s one of the reasons why they took you away-so I can be here in case you come home. Olga and Ekaterina think I’m crazy, but Olga and Ekaterina don’t know what it’s like to have their entire world ripped out of their arms.
Mihael, try to remember the times I was a good mother. Remember the time I took you to the movies and bought you another popcorn after you’d dropped the first one? And remember how I yelled at the man who made you drop it? Remember how much I loved you, and how I told you that all the time? Does anybody in your new life love you as much as I do, my baby? I doubt it. But they’re probably telling you how terrible I am. Don’t believe them. Come back to me. I’ll be waiting.