Link to article: A Voicemail to My Mother.
:scp-wiki:component:license-box
:scp-wiki:component:license-box-end
[[>]] [[module Rate]] [[/>]] [[size 70%]]**Beep.**[[/size]] Hey, Ma. It’s me again. You don’t pick up anymore. But you never care, do you? But I keep talking, because if I don’t, then it’s real, and I can’t handle that. . . . Can you? The sound of the beep after every message, it’s louder than the words I say. Do you remember when you held me? You were the sun then. Warm. Bright. Alive. Now you’re nothing but darkness clinging to the walls. //No, that’s not right. You’re less than that.// . . . They said it was nature, what happened. They said it was just life doing what life does. But what is life without you? I am dead wood on a dying tree. Dry. Cracked. Reaching for light that doesn’t exist. Because you’re gone. . . . Gone. You took yourself away, and you didn’t even ask me if it was okay to leave. I’m still waiting. Here. Right where you left me. I wish you could see me now. But I don’t. Because if you did, you’d see a mess. A monster made of all the things I couldn’t become. Do you even remember what I used to be? The little boy who crawled into your bed, who thought you were invincible. But you weren’t. . . . You weren’t. . . . Do you dream about me? I dream about you. Every. Single. Night. But in the dreams, you don’t say anything. You just stand there. Watching me. Your eyes... black. Empty. Like you’re waiting for me to follow you. . . . I wake up in a sweat. Every time. Reaching out for you, but you’re not there. You never will be again. I’m sorry. I know I’ve failed you. You expected more from me. You said I’d do great things. Great things. But I haven’t done anything. Not one thing worth remembering. //Would you even recognize me now?// . . . No. No, you wouldn’t. You’d look at me and see a hollow thing, an empty shell, the boy who couldn’t keep you alive. I still have your letters. I found them in that drawer you always told me not to open. They’re falling apart now, like everything else. You wrote them before I was born. Before I even existed, you had dreams. . . . Do you remember those dreams? There’s a part of me that still feels like that child. The one who thought the world would stop spinning if you just held me long enough. But the world didn’t stop. It just... left me behind. Now I talk to ghosts. To you. . . . What’s left of you, anyway. I think of that night sometimes. The night they told me you were gone. And I knew. Before they even said it, I knew. It’s like my heart broke before the words left their mouths. So quiet. So soft. I don’t know if hearts make noise when they break. But I heard mine. Do you want to know what I miss most? Not the big things. No. Not your death. Not the end of it. No, it’s the small things. The way you laughed. The way you hummed when you cooked. The way you tilted your head when you thought too hard. Those are the things I hold onto. . . . But even those are fading now, slipping through my fingers like water. I never got to say goodbye. Never told you how much I loved you. Still love you. . . . Now I have all these words, and nowhere to put them. I talk to this voicemail like it’ll bring you back. But you’re not coming back. Are you? Ma, if you can hear this, wherever you are, I’m still here. Waiting. . . . For the phone to ring. For your voice, just once, to tell me you haven’t forgotten. But all I ever hear is the──── [[size 70%]]**Beep.**[[/size]] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]