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The River

A Mother's Dying Love

By Liz Published 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 8 min read
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The sun was almost gone, making the river a vibrant pink and orange. The fall air was crisp, but not painfully cold, requiring only a hoodie and jeans. I knew the snow was coming and the river would freeze soon enough, but tonight I wanted to enjoy the end of summer on the dock, with my hot chocolate and my book. Alone. Curled up in my chair at the end of the dock, my drink getting cold next to me, I closed my book and looked out across the river. There were tiny islands everywhere, and I could see people in the distance getting things ready for the cold winter. They would be leaving soon, and I couldn’t wait until everyone was gone.

My phone yelled out at me, startling the silence. Looking at the screen, I saw my sisters face smiling up at me. I sighed, silencing the phone. I wasn’t ready to talk to Sally, and wouldn’t be for a long time. I closed my eyes, seeing her face next to Caleb’s, laying on the ground that was currently to my left. Bloody, with tears streaming down her face as she looked at me with terror in her eyes. There was a gash on her left cheek, which had left a scar six inches long. I snapped my eyes open, unable to relive that night again right now. Sighing, I stood up, gathered my things and headed back to the cottage I now called home. A home it was not, however. More like a prison I had sentenced myself to. Sentenced to life, with no chance of parole.

***

“Caleb, it’s time for breakfast,” I called out from the small kitchen. I set the plate of eggs and bacon on the bar, and grabbed the orange juice as Caleb’s feet appeared on the ladder leading down from the small alcove above the TV in the living room.

“I’m not hungry, Mom. Can I just go swimming? Please?” He started whining before I could even see his face. I rolled my eyes, knowing the argument that was coming. It was the same every morning, without fail.

“It’s too cold to swim now, Caleb. You can play outside after breakfast, if you want, but the water is off limits, buddy.” He hopped of the last step, wincing as he landed. He scowled at me, taking the few steps to the bathroom and slammed the door. “I want to swim!” He yelled at me through the door. “Why can’t I just do what I want? And I’m not eating!!” I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling my anger building up.

“Why? Why can’t you just accept the fact that you can’t swim right now? Why would you WANT to swim after what happened? Can’t you just, for one day, accept that you cannot, under any circumstance, go in the water?” I slammed the orange juice on the counter, my voice getting louder and louder with each word.

“No, Mom, because I can’t understand why you are keeping me here at all. Why can’t I go home? I am tired, cold, and I miss my friends. It isn’t fair and I want to leave and never come back!” He yelled back at me, tears flowing from his eyes as he ran out of the house. I sighed, sinking into a bar stool. I knew he wouldn’t go near the water, not until I said he could. He was angry, but he was a good boy who listened to what I said. Not that I ever would. There was no way I would let him back in the water that had changed the course of our entire lives.

That day in early August had been hot. The sun was shining, and it was a perfect day for a family gathering. Caleb, Todd and I had left early in the morning to get to the family cottage, excited to see our family. We were celebrating Sally’s fortieth birthday with good food, swimming, fishing and old fashioned family fun. Todd was eager to get out on the boat, and I wanted nothing more than to relax for a whole day. It had been a stressful time at work for both of us, and we needed a good day.

As the day winded down, Sally had begged Todd for one last boat ride, and Caleb tagged along. I remember that I had been hesitant because my husband had been drinking, but he promised he was okay and they wouldn’t be gone long. When the boat started approaching the dock, it was going too fast, and I knew something was wrong. It stopped suddenly, hitting a shoal, and threw the three of them out of the boat. I screamed as Sally and Caleb went under a few feet from the shore, and Todd was thrown onto the sand. It seemed like forever before I saw Sally break the surface of the water holding Caleb. She swam to the shore, collapsing next to Caleb, where Todd had landed, coughing and pouring blood from where her face had been slashed open by a rock at the bottom of the lake. I will never forget the look on her face as she looked up at me, holding a barely breathing Caleb in her arms. Todd was beside her, still and unmoving, face down. It was over half an hour before the ambulance arrived, and by then it was too late.

Though every moment of that night is crystal clear in my mind, the funeral is a blur. The only thing I remember is when they lowered the casket into the ground, screaming as I wondered how our lives would ever be the same. In the week after, I sold our house, packed everything we would need and moved into the family cottage. No one stopped me, they didn’t dare. I was angry, and no one wanted to argue with me. I couldn’t explain it, but I had to be where it happened. I had to see the shore and relive the pain everyday.

As the months turned into winter, the river froze over, and Caleb and I argued more and more. He became sullen, angry, and volatile. We woke up, I made breakfast, he refused to eat. We went through the motions of homeschooling, I made dinner, he picked at his food. Neither of us were healthy, I had lost weight and Caleb was pale and had large circles under his eyes. I knew that living here wasn’t healing us like I had hoped it would, but I couldn’t leave.

It was late February, and the coldest day we had had so far that winter. Caleb had been in a mood all day, and I had had enough. I begged him to stop, but at that point, he was out of control. He wanted to go ice fishing, but I said it was too cold and too dangerous.

“Mom! You have to let me go! Let me go!” he screamed over and over. “I just want to go!” He sounded like a spoiled brat, and I couldn’t listen anymore. My anger was to the point of rage, and I threw on my coat, boots and hat and grabbed the ice pick. “Fine!” I screamed in response. “Go then! Go dig a hole in the ice and fall in the water again!!” Caleb stopped yelling and stood in silence. He looked at me as tears streamed down his face.

“Really? You’ll let me go?” He asked, quietly. “I need to go, Mom. You have to understand. I just need you to say I can go, finally. Let me go, Mom.”

I couldn’t do this anymore. I nodded my head, agreeing with him. As I opened my mouth to answer him, silent tears running down my own face, the front door opened, and we were blasted with icy cold air.

“Candace.” Todd said quietly. “Candace, what are you doing?” He looked at me with pity and anger. I stood still, in my heavy winter coat, pickaxe above my head. No. I couldn’t let him stop me. I had made up my mind and I had to finish what I had started. I ran past him, through the open door towards the door.

“I have to do this, Todd! I have to let him go!” I cried as I ran.

“Candace, stop!” I could hear Todd yelling behind me. I slid and slipped as I crossed the ice, crying as I hit the ice over and over. Todd stood at the shore, screaming into his phone for help. The cold penetrated my skin, making it hard for me to hold the pickaxe. I swung at the ice, determined to make a hole.

“Mom.” Caleb said as he walked close to me. “Mom, it’s ok. Stop crying. I don’t have to go today.” He reached for my arm as I swung down, and I slipped, the axe piercing into his chest instead. I froze, staring at him as he looked into my eyes. He started laughing for the first time in months, seeing my expression of horror. “Mom- oh my God Mom your face!” He doubled over, laughing harder. “It’s ok, Mom, I’m not hurt. Look!” I looked at his chest, where there should have been blood. “I’m already dead, Mom. It doesn’t hurt!”

I sank to my knees, sobbing. “I know, baby. I know.” I cried. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to let you go! I can’t!” I said with anguish.

“Come with me, then. Come with me and we can stay together. Just like we have always been.” He dropped to his knees to join me and held my face in his little hands. “Come with me, Mom.”

I looked at him for a moment, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. I nodded.

“Okay, baby. I will come with you.”

I looked at Todd, who was slowly making his way towards us and sat at the edge of the small hole I had made. As I lowered my legs into the icy water, he realized what I was doing.

“Candace, NO!” he screamed, the wind carrying his words away. I looked back at Caleb, who took my hands in his, and we descended into the icy depths of the river.

supernatural
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