By @LiaDanielle

Wyatt used to be the perfect child, and yet life just isn't fair when it comes to this family. A short story about a mother, who tried everything and still couldn't save her son.

Chapter 1


The day we had Wyatt was the happiest day of our lives. We had always imagined what our children would look like and we finally had the opportunity to look at him, to finally see his face. His beautiful face. The entire time he was a baby, all I could ever think was that we made him. We made such a beautiful person. It was heartwarming, knowing that this beautiful baby would soon grow into a beautiful young man.

I don’t think I was prepared for that day. The day he turned 13. I mean, who would be? What mother is ever ready for her child to become a teenager? I wasn’t and neither was my husband. Aaron was always there for Wyatt. Always playing catch and fishing and just being his dad. It’s like he was meant to be a dad. Like Wyatt was meant to be our son. It was just so perfect.

Until he turned 14. That’s when the trouble started. He began skipping school, starting fights, even smoking. He wasn’t the Wyatt I knew. Not anymore. And I never really knew why he’d made such a drastic change, but I guess I can’t question that anymore. It hurt me that Wyatt no longer cared about us, the way he once had. When he was a child, he would climb into our bed when he got scared. He would laugh at his father’s silliest jokes. He would smile when we made faces. Now, he laughed at nothing, he smiled at the darkness. He played sick jokes and didn’t care if anyone was hurt because of them.

It was like he was a totally different person. Like my Wyatt never even existed in the first place. But I know he did, I have the pictures of his smiles and his laughs. We tried our best to figure out what was wrong or why he hated us now, but to no avail. 

Now, Wyatt is 18. He’s still not my Wyatt, but life has been a little easier. We finally convinced him to see a shrink and he finally agreed. The shrink helped him with his issues and we can live a better life. The shrink decided to give Wyatt a hobby of some kind to ease his mind. Wyatt decided on cooking. He loved helping me in the kitchen.

I stood in the kitchen staring at my Wyatt and smiled as he cut up the onions. I could see just a little bit of the old Wyatt making it’s way to the surface. We could finally be happy again.

“Mom, are you OK?” He asked, pausing the knife in his hand. “You don’t look so well.”

I nodded my head, but decided he was right. “You’re right. I don’t feel good.”

“You should definitely get some rest. You’ve been working so hard lately. You must be so tired.” There was something in his tone, but I shook my head, thinking nothing of it. 

“You know, I think you’re right. Do you think you can finish dinner without me, Wyatt?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smirked, “Mom, I was taught by the best.”

I shrugged, smugly, “Of course you were. OK, just let me know if you need any help.”

He shooed me away with the knife and I chuckled, making my way to the master bedroom. I laid on my bed and slowly closed my eyes. Wyatt was right, I really was super tired. 

It must of be a few hours before Wyatt woke me because the light from the windows had disappeared. 

“Mom, dinner’s ready. I figured you’d want to come down and have a taste before dad gets home and throws up from my cooking.”

We both laughed and I followed him down the stairs. As we walked down the stairs, my heart seemed to stop, almost as if it knew something I didn’t. I thought nothing of it and still followed Wyatt.

I guess now that I know what happened, I should’ve listened to my heart. Because what I didn’t see, on the way down the stairs, was the trail of blood leading to the basement. I don’t know how I missed it, but I did.

I sat down at our kitchen table while Wyatt dipped me a bowl. He blew on it for a second and then handed it to me. He sat down in front of me and stared patiently at me as I blew on the spoon.

As soon as I took a sip, I knew that it was poisoned. The soup left a bitter taste in my throat. I looked up at Wyatt as I felt the poison enter my system. My throat began to close up, my vision blurred. I could barely hear anything over the beating of my heart, but I tried my best to stand.

I fell to the ground and crawled, hoping that somehow, someway, I could find a way out of this. A way where all of us could live happily ever after. I really, really wanted to. I tried, but I realized that I was now quickly dying and there was nothing I could do.

“Why would you do this?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

Wyatt shrugged, “It seemed like fun. Tried to poison dad too, but he didn’t eat my soup. Should have just eaten my soup. But if he had, I wouldn’t have had the meat to make your soup, so I guess everything happens for a reason.”

And slowly my heart stopped, but this time, it wasn’t about to start again.

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