Take Her Out
I loved my mother.
The good times were a reminder.
Had it not been for her black pearl earrings, I wouldn’t have recognized her decayed face and body.
I took my aim.
This would set her free. She had place in heaven, not hell.
She called to me.
“You’re not my mother.” I whispered.
“Jade, let me in.”
“You’re not my mother!”
I closed my eyes then pulled the trigger.
Her death was justified.