My Last Trip to Mothers' House shortscarystories

I looked into the mirror above the sink in my Mothers’ bathroom, feeling completely different but looking the same. The same patchy beard, the same hair that is perfectly straight, until about three or four inches when it turns into a curly mess, the same deep blue eyes that emulated the ocean. Everything was the same, except my mouth. My lips stretched across my face producing what I perceived to be a smile. I made sure to burn that image, of me smiling, into my brain, positive I would never smile again. I walked to the kitchen and untied Mothers’ apron, I followed the crease in the center to ensure it would be folded the same as it was before I put it on. I took off Mothers’ gloves and placed them above the fireplace. Left glove on the bottom facing up, right glove on top of the left one facing down. Exactly how she left them. I returned to the kitchen and placed Mothers’ chef’s knife in the middle drawer next to the oven, and then I remembered there was a sheath. I made my way to the bathroom to retrieve the knife sheath that I forgot, good thing I did, because I forgot to put the toilet seat down. Mother always hated when I left the seat up. After I put the sheath on the knife and put the knife back in the drawer, I grabbed the bottle of Smirnoff off of the second shelf in the refrigerator. I took two ice cubes out of the tray and refilled the empty spots with water and returned it to the freezer. I took a highball glass out of the cabinet, dropped the ice cubes in and filled it halfway with the vodka. Before consuming my beverage, I filled the Smirnoff bottle up with enough water to make sure mother did not know I took any. I sat at the kitchen table and drank the vodka in one large gulp, I never really liked the taste of vodka, but I didn’t mind it this time. After I washed the glass and put it back in the cabinet, middle shelf next to the pint glasses, I took one last tour around Mothers’ house to ensure everything was just as I found it. Before I left I went to the bathroom one last time. I bent down very carefully making sure I did not get any blood on my shirt, Mother always hated when I stained my clothes. I kissed Mother on her cold, dead cheek, wiped off the excess saliva that was left behind and then left the house, making sure to lock the door. Mother always made sure I locked the door behind me. I love you, Mom.

Submitted November 22, 2016 at 02:03AM by MyDogNacho http://ift.tt/2gD6Gpg shortscarystories