text: Author’s Note: I like this plotline, but I’m not sure if it has enough action or not. Let me know in a comment, please. Also, this is my second story. So, go me, I guess. :D Anyways, I hope that you all enjoy it! “Mom!” Asher, my son, calls. “I’m busy!” I yelled back. “Dad!” I smirk, pleased with myself. My kids have learned that when I say that I’m busy, I’m genuinely busy with my drawing. You see, I am a freelance animator. It’s an exciting job, and I get to work from home. My kids like to “help”, but we all know how that goes. So, I have taught them not to. I resume my storyboard sketching of a new upcoming movie. The company that I was currently working for had told me that I had to go to the studio and show them what I had finished the next day. Therefore, I was cramming in a whole bunch of work. Anyway, I began scribbling away when my phone blared the theme song of Ghostbusters . I sighed, exasperated, before picking up my phone, putting it up to my ear, and saying hello. “Hi. Is this Kelly Jopky?” Who is this lady? I thought. Her voice sounded familiar, yet I couldn’t tell exactly who it was. Maybe it was the new employee at the aforementioned company. “Uh... Yes. Who is this?” I asked. There was a moment of silence before the woman responded. “Kelly, I-I’m Leylah Lokman,” Leylah responded. Leylah Lokman... not the new employee... not a friend that I know... not any previous coworker... What was she to me? “I’m sorry, Leylah, but I’m still not sure who you are. I don’t mean to rude,” I said. My mind raced, thinking of any Leylah that I knew. Not one person came to mind. “Kelly, I’m your mother. Now, before you hang up, I want you to know that I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you throughout your life, but I couldn’t take care of you, Kel. I didn’t have a job, the landlord was going to take away my house, and I just didn’t have the right mindset to raise a child. Please, please, please forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it, but... please...” Leylah trailed off. I didn’t say anything. Hot tears rolled down my face. Now I recognized the voice. I remember her voice singing to me when I was first born, and when she spoke softly to me when she dropped me off... --- Five-year-old me shivered in the biting temperatures. I wrapped my coat tighter around my lanky body. Momma walked two steps ahead of me, my tiny legs trying to keep up. Tears began rolling down my face, but they pretty much froze the second they escaped my eyes. I knew what was happening; I just didn’t want it to. “Momma! Why are you taking me to that place? I don’t wanna go, Momma,” I whined. I was practically yelling over the howl of the wind. Momma didn’t respond for a moment. “Kelly Ann, stop asking questions that you don’t want the answers to. Now, hurry up. I want to get you there before they close. It’s already five-thirty,” Momma snapped. She snatched my hand and started pulling me along. The tears came so fast now that they raced down. ‘There’ was Miss Joy’s Hope for Kids. AKA the local orphanage, and from what I knew, there was nothing that had to do with hope there. Momma and I continued our brisk walking, my crying turning into sobbing. The only thought that ran through my mind was: Momma’s leaving me. That thought just raced around my head. I couldn’t get it out. Finally, the two of us reached the doors of the Miss Joy’s. Momma took a deep breath before knocking. --- “Hi, Leylah,” I greet, sliding into the booth across from her. She had invited me to lunch at Olive Garden with her. I was nervous about it. When Leylah had called me before, she had asked me to forgive her. I had avoided the question, changing the subject. Now, I knew that I would have to either forgive her or ignore my mother forever. “Hey, Kel. The breadsticks and salad should be here in a minute. And I didn’t know what you wanted to drink, so I didn’t order you anything,” Leylah said. “Oh, that’s fine.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The two of us waited for the server to come before speaking again. I ordered a Diet Coke, then glanced at Leylah. “Look, Kelly, I don’t mean to pressure you or anything, but I want to know if you’ll forgive me. It’s been 32 years, so I know it’s hard, and you probably don’t think I deserve it, but... God, I just want to be able to make up for the time that I lost with you,” Leylah rambled. Everything she said reigned true. I realized that I was being selfish, but I didn’t think she deserved it. It was hard. And I didn’t know what I would do. Countless thoughts dashed around my mind. Unbelievable emotions coursed through my blood. My hands shook. I lightly scratched my cheek, even though it wasn’t itchy. I could feel Leylah’s eyes on my head, but I kept my eyes on an interesting spot on the table. I grabbed my phone and looked at the time, although it was irrelevant. “Leylah... You caused my depression, the bullies that hurt me, the teachers who put me in detention every day. You were the start of all of it. You weren’t there for me, Leylah,” I said. “I know. I know that. And I’m so sorry for that. And I’m hoping that you’ll remember what I did do for you. The good I did when you were little. Please remember,” Leylah pleaded. I shook my head. “I can’t. I’m sorry, Leylah, but I can’t.” Grabbing my purse and phone, I headed out of the restaurant.