Goodbye Mum

“There was a letter for you in the mail today,” I hear Miss Lindsay, my former English teacher and now my current legal guardian, say as I enter the house, coming back from school. “It’s on your desk upstairs in your room.”

“Okay!” I scream at her as I sprint up the stairs, all the way over to my bedroom. I walk through the door and see a white envelope laying on top of a pile of books on my desk. I pick it up and turn it around, searching for a name or address of the sender. Nothing. It’s just a plain white envelope.

Curious, and also a little bit nervous, I open it up. I take out a paper folded in four. I carefully unfold it and I’m greeted by a page filled with words written in beautiful handwriting. Even though I haven’t seen it in years, I still recognize it. Shocked, I throw a hand over my mouth.

“I can’t believe this,” I whisper to myself before I take in a deep breath, and start reading what’s written in black ink.

It takes me a few minutes but when I finally get through every word, I have to catch my breath. I sit myself down onto my bed and try to fight back tears.

“Sylvie, dinner is ready,” I hear Miss Lindsay say as she enters my room. I look up at her and she immediately notices my watery eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asks sweetly as she sits herself down next to me. I stay silent as I look down at the letter I’m holding on my hands.

“Who’s that from?”

“It’s from… It’s from my mother,” I tell her, still shocked to the system. I can see Miss Lindsay scare up. She obviously didn’t know anything about this. I sigh deeply. I didn’t even know my mum was allowed to get in contact with me.

“What does it say?” Miss Lindsay asks as I stand up onto my feet, fumble up the piece of paper and throw it into the bin.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe it does…”

“No, it doesn’t!”

“Think about it, Sylvie. Maybe it will help you make peace with all of this”, Miss Lindsay says and I sigh, frustrated that she can’t let it go. I look back over to the bin in the corner of my bedroom.

“Oh, fine!” I scream angrily because I can’t seem to let it go either.

“Mother wants to see me. She asked if I could come and visit her this week,” I tell her as sit back down on my bed. “How does she even know where I live? I thought she wouldn’t ever be allowed to contact me?”

“I know, but your mother is cleaning up her life. She has been trying really hard and made incredible progress. So, I went to visit her.”

“You did what?!” I scream.

“I visited her. I offered her my help, a person and a place to talk but I didn’t think she would actually reach out,” Miss Lindsay tells me. I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now.

“How could you do that?”

“I did it for you, Sylvie. I want to give a chance to maybe, one day, get back in touch with.”

“Why would I ever want that?” I ask, on the verge of crying.

“Because she is, and will always be, your mother. Sylvie, maybe you should go and listen to what she has to say.”

“No… Never…”, I say before I stand up and walk out my room.

-

“What the hell am I doing?” I ask myself, sitting down in an empty room. Only two chairs and a table are present. I don’t know how I ended up in this room. I was so convinced, so determined to not come here and yet, here I am.

I sigh as I look down at my trembling hands. I’m so extremely nervous that my head probably looks as red as strawberry jam right now.

All of a sudden, the door opens. I immediately turn my head around and I’m greeted by a middle-aged woman. I feel my mouth drop open as the woman, dressed in all beige, sits down on the other side of the table.

“Just knock on the door when you want to get out,” the prison guard tells me sweetly before retreating into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

“Sylvie,” I hear the woman say, clearly a sense of disbelief in her voice. Well, I know how she feels. I never dreamed in a million years that I would ever be here, with her.

“Hi mum,” I whisper not looking up at her.

“I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t do it for you. I’m here for me. So that I can finally put all this bullshit behind me and go on with my life,” I tell her, fidgeting with the bracelet on my wrist.

“What do you want, mum,” I suddenly snap at her.

“I’m coming home in a few weeks and I wanted to ask…”

“What?!” I scream in disbelief, not even letting my mother finish her sentence. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I cleaned up, Sylvie. I have been sober and clean for years now. I participated in all parenting classes in the hope that I would ever be able to by a mother for you,” she tells me and I’m honestly lost for words. “My patrol officer put in a good word for me and she was able to reduce my sentence to 6 years, which means that my time in here ends in two weeks.”

“That is good for you but what does that have to do with me?” I ask her reluctant, and kind of scared to hear her answer.

“I want for you to come and live with me again,” she says and I feel all air leaving my lungs. My eyes get watery and I try my best to fight back tears.

“No, mum. You don’t mean that.”

“I do, Sylvie. I love you and I care about you. I want a second chance.”

“I already gave you a second chance. I even gave a third and a fourth and a fifth one. I always looked away. I always told myself tomorrow would be better, but it never was. I gave you every chance I could, and you always ruined it,” I tell her, getting angry now.

“Sylvie…”

“No, stop!” I scream loud and clear. “I don’t want to hear any more of this, mum. Do you know how I had to grow up? Do you know how much I struggled after you left? I hated myself. I thought it was all my fault.” I feel a single tear roll down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away before I continue.

“But someone told me it wasn’t my fault. Someone told me that what you did was wrong. I learned that it wasn’t normal or okay what you did to me.”

“I tried to care for you.”

“How can you even say that? Do you really believe that yourself? You used me to deal your stupid drugs. You cashed in when men touched me right before your eyes. You sold me for men to rape me!” I scream out as I feel my breath hitch in my throat, more tears escaping my eyes.

“Sylvie, I needed money. When your father left, we had nothing.”

“I don’t care! Was money so much more important than your own daughter, than me? I grew up in a world of drug dealers and criminals. And when I turned into a teenager, I was all alone. People at school always called me ‘mother’s little criminal’. I had to get through those years telling everyone my mother was behind bars for drug dealing and sex trafficking. Do you have any idea how that felt? Do you have any idea what kind of mental scars that left?!” I ask her, almost screaming. I see my mum’s mouth open but I don’t even give her a chance to speak.

“I was terrified, mum! I’ve always been and I will always be terrified. I don’t trust people. I can’t allow people to touch me. Even a simple hand on the shoulder makes me slip into a full-on panic attack. I’m scared of every man I see. And I’m scared of you, mum.”

“I’m sorry,” I hear my mum whisper silently, but she’s not going to change my mind.

“You don’t have to be sorry, mum. You just have to accept it. I grew up. I haven’t seen you in six years. I learned how good life can be without the people who use you and exploit you. I have a new family now. A family that I actually grew up with. People who love me and want the best for me. You’re not my mother, Miss Lindsay is, and that is never going to change. You had your chance to turn your life around, and you never took it,” I say as I slowly stand up. “So, this is it. I’m glad I came because I want to make sure that you know I’m happy now. And if you care about me, you won’t seek any contact with me again. If you really love, she’ll leave me alone and move on without me. I really hope you’ll find your happiness too somehow.”

“Sylvie… Please…” my mum begs, tears streaming down her face.

“Goodbye mum,” is all I answer before I knock on the door and walk towards the rest of life, letting go of my past, for good now.