• A woman slowly sips from a bottle of Vodka, draining it of its contents, and
    providing herself with a moment in which she doesn't have to feel loss, love, remorse. Anything. As she takes the last gulp from the bottle, she hurls it against the glass-top coffee table, shattering it. Bits of glass spread in all directions, each fragment catching the sun in their wake, displaying a beautiful shower of rainbow bits of glass.

    "How ironic," the woman thinks to herself "for the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen, to reveal itself in a moment like this." Feeling incapacitated at the situation, she seeks her one anchor in this life, her son Aaron. Frantic and deranged she yells for him, a keening, high pitched wail, but receives no answer. In her moment of complete stupor, a memory that she had long suppressed flies into her minds grasp.

    A gavel is flung against a desk, creating a most final, devastating blow to a pain-ridden woman. A single tear rolls down the broken-hearted woman's cheek, leaving a path for which many more would follow. A glassy film covers her eyes, distorting her vision, but not enough for her to miss seeing a head of golden brown hair moving fervently down the courtroom isle, accompanied by his aunt.

    "My son!" she cries, but to no avail. She catches her last glimpse of him as the oak doors are slammed shut behind him. Buckling over onto the granite floors, she only hears the memory of his hollow footsteps echoing through the room as he was taken from her.

    Willing the memory away, she is utterly numb to her surroundings. It takes every ounce of her being to drag herself to a small desk beside the couch. She rips out the drawer, its contents spilling onto the faded carpet. Rifling through the heap of bills and broken pencils, she finds what she was looking for. A leather-bound book, with elegant lettering on the front and binding that read "Diary". She took a pen out from her handbag, one she has used many times for the same purpose, but many years prior to this situation. Opening the front cover, ridden with dust, she flips to an unused page, and begins to write...

    Dear Diary,

    I write this to you, knowing this is the last time my pen will meet your pages.
    My son, Aaron, has been taken from me, and i have finished my last bottle,
    I feel now is a good time for me to go. When i think of Aaron, the emotion that is the strongest within me, is shame. I was never a good mother, i don't know if i ever could have been, he was an exceptional son, baring every moment that I could ever have caused him pain. Strength, passion, courage, those were his most defining qualities, purely Aaron. But love... he showed me unconditional love after all that I put him through.

    A tear drops on the page, leaving a rippled, wet circle where it had fallen. Suddenly she is snapped out of her daze of numbness, and is able to grasp what she is about to do. "Death?" she thinks aloud "is that what i really want? No!"

    She is spontaneously trembling with fear, convulsing and dry heaving at the thought of taking her own life. With a waterfall of tears overflowing from her eyes, she just sat there, shaking with fear and disgust of herself.

    "My son!" she wailed "You cant take him from me!" Her clenched fist reached out and slammed into the wall, crumbling it in its' fury. "I love you Aaron." Tears and shivers of pain muffled her voice, making it nothing but a diluted cry of sorrow and loss of her son. An arm, shaking uncontrollably, overtaken by pain, reaches for the pen and the diary.

    "I have to," she thinks "if not for me, then for Aaron, I don't deserve him, not even a thought of his presence, a memory of his being. Nothing." She continues with the unfinished document that represents her last day...

    Aaron is now with his aunt, and i know she will take better care of him than i was ever capable of providing. I regret so much in this life. I regret every bruise on Aaron that I caused. On his arms, his back, and his heart. I regret every bottle of alcohol that I layed my hands on, for they have destroyed me. Most of all, I regret not being able to fix things, I have left them broken for too long, now they are corroded, frayed, falling to pieces. I have caused everything that I have touched irreparable damage. For that I apologize. I was given life, and I abused it. Aaron's life. My life... Everyone I ever met, I'm so sorry...

    Forgive me,
    Olivia

    Folding the paper into a small square, she stuffs it into her pocket and starts for her bedroom. She flicks on the light and the ceiling fan turns on silently, seeming to know the severity of the situation, and what is to come in the following minutes.

    As she reaches the closet, she places her hand on the doorknob but pauses before opening the door, to send a prayer for Aaron.

    "One day, my son, we will meet again. I hope you can make the best of your new life, and not follow in any of the footprints that I layed out for you. I will always watch out for you, and i hope that one day, you will forgive me."

    She spun the knob, and with a click, she is granted entrance. It would have taken her eyes a minute to adjust to the dark depths of the closet, but she knew what she was after. Reaching up, he fingers found purchase on a black plastic box, and she carefully slid it off its shelf. With tears building up in her eyes, she snapped the box open, releasing a shower of dust, and something much, much worse. The clarity that the gun brought to her was disheveling. She knew this was the right thing to do. As she picked up the gun, she felt a slight tingle being sent through her body like a pang of a goodbye, sent from her internal conscience.

    She lifts the gun out of the case, handling it with great care, knowing the damage it could cause. Fear no longer controlled her, nor did the alcohol. Thud, suddenly the woman dropped to the floor, slamming so hard that the nightstand rattled and everything on it vibrated its way to the floor. Flopping the gun onto her lap, she sat in her bedroom, silently sending her last goodbyes out to the ones she loved.

    She clicked off the safety, revealing a red circle, and slipped her index finger onto the trigger. Putting the gun to her heart, the place where her pain was lying, she softly whispered

    "Goodbye", followed by an ear shattering crack. She gave her and her son the best thing she could think of. A new beginning - The end.