"Thames come listen, I'm going to tell you and Georgia a story," called Grandpa Macon from the kitchen. He sat with Georgia eating freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, perfectly made- crispy on the outside, soft on the inside.
"I don't want to listen to another story about a princess and mythical creatures. Those are so childish. Georgia and I are too big for those," Thames replied as she strode into the kitchen and stood, in a sassy stance, hand on her hip.
"Fine then, I'll tell y'all a real story. One that I've never told anyone else," said Grandpa Macon. He’d been having nightmares lately that left him tense and on edge. Thinking that saying them out loud would help relax him a little and figuring that since his granddaughters loved watching those scary movies, they wouldn’t mind a scary story.
"Oh great, so you're about to tell us the plot of a movie we’ve already seen?" Thames scoffed.
"Stop being a smart ass and sit down. I’m gonna tell you my own story, not a movie so you’re your mouth and listen carefully,” Grandpa Macon rhetorted, firmness always getting through to Thames. Georgia was eager so her began.
“Now, the saddest story I know is the one about the life of Adelaide Elizabeth Buchette Murray..."


Addie was a southern girl, born and raised on a small farm in Huntsville, Alabama. She was born March 8th, 1989 making her a Pisces, meaning her goals in life are to stop feeling alone and to make dreams realities. That girl was a dreamer ever since she was a small child singing while she painted the castle she imagined herself living, a big castle equipped with a handsome prince, the mother of all gardens, butlers and maids, talking rodents, all that fairytale crap. She dressed like one of those damn princesses too. Her outfits were never complete without glitter and a tiara, oversized cheap jewelry from the dollar store, and clear plastic Cinderella slippers. Not only did she dress like a princess, but she was artistic from birth; that girl could paint like a goddess and she wanted to one day share the dreams she painted with the world. Those dreams are what saved that girl early on in life, through the loss of her mother to lung cancer and her brother Louis in that tractor accident, she had to stay the bright light for Ol' Papa Landon and her oldest brother Rob. It helped that her eyes were a warm hazel that was welcoming to one and all, she wasn't to pale so the outfits never washed her out, and a child-like personality that caused her to eat mac 'n cheese almost e'eryday for breakfast, lunch, and supper.

When the princess got to high school she found her Prince Charming in Jackson Murray, all-star athlete and the best teenage two-stepper in 3 counties. Those two were madly in love. When Addie got knocked up Jackson bought them a quaint little home in town where they could start a family continuing Addie's realistic fairytale. They had a beautiful baby boy, Bobby Murray, whose features resembles those belonging to Addie, what a beautiful "picture-perfect family" those three made. Not too long after Bobby's sixth birthday did Jackson get shipped off to the Army. Addie was left alone, she would consider it abandonment, but she knew that had been the plan and it's what was best in order to support their household. She was left to worry and imagine the worst possibilities, but she was always hopeful and optimistic, she believed everything would work out. Bless her heart.

After Jackson's departure, Addie took up another job; she was now not only a waitress, but a cashier and the Piggly Wiggly as well. She worked hard for about five months before her first encounter with something she considered an obstacle; Jackson goes Missing In Action. She told herself to push on, she had to be there for Bobby, she couldn't let her son down, but it was hard, and her "happy go lucky" attitude was wearing down. Without a stable source of income, they were thrown out on the streets to survive. Addie knew of an abandoned house she and Jackson used to hang out in during high school, it was their special place. It was a little run down, but if she and Bobby just cleaned up and loved it a little, it would be decent enough to live in. Addie had become a single mother trying to provide not only food, but also now shelter for she and her son. She had taken on two jobs racing between them and coming home, only to have to help Bobby with homework and find him dinner. She was glad for nighttime because she would just fall into a deep sleep on her bed, but wake up the next morning feeling as if she had only been out for 5 minutes. The hope and energy were slowly, but surely being drained from her body. She had lost so much weight from lack of food, wrinkles were forming all over her body, and the bags under her eyes seemed to be permanent. She didn’t seem to be too stable on her feet, walking as if her torso was being pulled to the ground by an invisible force, as if she would stumble and collapse at any moment. Her last attempts at motivation were just that, attempts, not at all successful.

One of those attempts had started the day when Addie rushed to drop Bobby off at school; she dragged him the whole way. They had woken up late that morning and she had needed to get to work. As the two ran to the elementary school the wind started to pick up and blew hard enough to make Bobby trip over his own feet, almost bring them both down, but they finally made it to the front doors panting and trying to catch a breath.

"je t'aime mommy!" Bobby yelled while running through the front doors.

"Bye sweetie, I'll pick you up at 2:30. Have a great day, je t'aime!" Addie yelled back, while simultaneously trying to catch her breath before being abandoned at the school's entrance. Her whole life seemed like a series of abandonments, but she was determined to make sure that Bobby never even knows the meaning of the word. Addie turned around only to see her reflection in the cafeteria window. She sighed, her light brown locks had gotten all tangled due to the wind, the bags under her eyes looked bigger than they were when she saw them that morning, and she was still wearing her husband’s old, and dirty, high school football t-shirt she had slept in. Reviewing her reflection, she had noticed the stain on her shirt, but she didn't have time to change before work because she was already late as it is. Of course that was the perfect moment for her to remember she didn't brush her teeth on the rush out house that morning. She scavenged through her purse, throwing around all the junk in search of a breath mint when something shiny caught her eye. It was her husband's car keys, without a car they were pretty useless to her. Tears started to well up in her eyes, but she sniffed, took a deep breath, and raced off.

When Bobby got home that day he couldn't find anything to cook, so he settled for some dry cereal-- the milk had expired. His mother had been having some terrible nights lately, but she usually got up to eat dinner with him, but tonight was different. He sat in the kitchen and watched his mother curled up in a ball, listened to her hum. She probably hadn't even realize she’d been doing it, but it made him sad because he didn't know how to help, so he had left her there for the night, to be alone with her thoughts. Normally he would sit and hold her hand until she got up, but she was scrunched up in a corner that evening rather than in the middle of the room. She stayed in that very spot for a long time. Bobby walked over to the little ball that was his mother. Her hair was a wreck resembling something close to a bird’s nest, her eyes red. Little droplets were slowly falling from her cheek and she had stopped bothering to wipe her running nose. The bags under her eyes had just gotten bigger, her forehead wrinkled from her fixation on the wall, and her lips were pressed together with force, but despite everything, Bobby thought she seemed calm. He shook her shoulder and asked her to tell him a story, he even would have settled for her falling asleep if she would just stop humming that song. The song was sad, but sweet and had the rhythm of a slow rain falling on the window; it was making Mac-Bobby miserable. Addie was beginning to look pale and washed out and he really needed his mommy. What good would she have been curled up helpless on the floor. Bobby slumped off leaving his mother to herself. The bags under his eyes were just about as big as his mother’s, he was too tired to stay awake and prod her all night, she wouldn’t move, he figured he would have a better chance after he was well rested.

That night, when Bobby had gone to sleep, Addie had set up 3 canvases- 2 small, 1 big, and an assortment of paint colors. She played she a Bobby’s favorite CD and a made them sandwiches. She had set up her very own art studio in the living room. Still in her husband’s t-shirt, she had started painting. In great detail, she had painted a flower on the big canvas, her favorite kind of flower, a white oleander. She'd planted them around her family's small farm after the deaths of her brother and mother. The flowers meant so much to her and stood for the losses in her life, they were so beautiful and white and pure. Addie had worked all through the night. She had been eager to finish as much as she could before Bobby woke up so that he could help her put on the finishing touches. She really wanted to give her masterpiece to her son, but she needed his help finishing it. She wanted him to treasure her painting forever, she wanted to make it personal to him, so she wrote him a note on it.

When Bobby woke up, he was surprised to find his mother dancing around the kitchen fixing him a bowl of dry cereal; it was as though nothing had ever been wrong.
"Bonjour, comment allez-vous," she had even started speaking French again. She didn't do that much anymore, she'd only got around to teaching Bobby the basics and they used to practice all the time, until one day she had just stopped.
"Cava bien, et vous?", Bobby asked her cautiously.
"Last night I had this great big craving sweetie, and you know what it was? I had a craving to paint the future, to paint beautiful flowers symbolizing what a beautiful and wondrous day it would be. Today I want to sing to the birds and dance with you around the kitchen," she had sounded so happy. He gave her a glowing smile and the warmest hug, it comforted him to have her back
Addie and Bobby each took a small canvas. Addie sat and day dreamed, inadvertently painting swirls all around the canvas, it was a mess. When she was done she looked over to see what Bobby had done. There on his picture was her memory all drawn out a beautiful. There sitting in the little painted car, was Prince Charming in the drivers seat, and the princess riding shotgun holding Bobby securely on her lap. A tear escaped from her eye, remembering her happy ever after. Letting the paintings dry, Addie took Bobby in the kitchen, blasting the music they pranced around the kitchen carefree and happy. Bobby helped Addie make easy mac for dinner, the day finally turning out to be an answer to his prayers.
"Bobby honey, I was wondering if you'd help me finish a painting after dinner?" Addie asked.
"Yeah! What are we painting? Dragons, princesses, wizards? Can we draw a castle, the one we're gonna live in when we get enough money- a really, really, big castle with me and you waving at the people who pass by."
"What a great painting that would be, but I already started painting my dream for you. Mind if we paint that one another time?" He smiled and nodded without a care as to what they were going to paint. He was just happy she was painting at all. They ate their mac 'n cheese, each having three helpings because it was just so good. After dinner they sang songs while washing the dishes and she had kept her promise, they danced all around the kitchen while they dried and put the dishes away. When the dishes were done Addie brought Bobby into the living room to finish the painting. She turned her back to the canvas, looked intently into Bobby's eyes and told him what he needed to do.
"Now, what I need you to do is stand here and hold my hand--"
"But, how are we going to paint if we're holding hands?" Bobby interrupted.
"I already finished painting it, we just need to shower it with love, can you do that for me?" she asked him.
"And how are we supposed to do that?" he countered curiously, but still excited.
"I'll show you," she grabbed his hand, and positioned him to stand directly in front of her so that they were facing each other. That's when she squeezed his hand, and looked directly into his eyes with all of the warmth and love she had for him, yet it wasn't alone. The love was accompanied by darkness and sorrow.
Bobby saw it, and the room started to seem smaller to him. He kept his eyes locked on hers and didn't even notice her pulling something dark out of her sweater pocket, something dark and terrifying, and coming to end all pain, yet open a door to another set of emotions. His emotions. He wasn't paying attention to anything, it happened all at once and he had just kept staring into his mother's eyes, giving her a soft, sweet smile to comfort her, to help her like she asked. BOOM! Her hand gone limp, and a red substance had flown up and covered him completely, soaking his clothes with its bitter scent. He looked up in utter shock and surprise. His eyes grew wide and his vision started to blur, he was seeing dots as he ran to the kitchen and lost his dinner. He felt empty, the world around him getting smaller while he became claustrophobic, suffocating from the lack of space. He longed for something now missing as he stared at the painting splattered in a mother’s loving memory. Macon slowly crouched down unsure if he should touch her arm, fearful that she might jump up at any moment, but she was stiff, pale, and cold. He told himself she was just resting, enjoying a well-deserved peaceful sleep; she wasn’t going to be waking up any time soon. Fitting perfectly in the crevice between her arm and torso, he lay down and hummed to her. Slowly, he bent down to rest his head on her arm reading the end of the painting over and over again, the darkness always comes before the dawn. He finally fell asleep in his mother’s arms, tears staining his face, not quite happy yet that she had gotten what she wanted, her happily ever after.


"What happened to Bobby Grandpa Macon?" asked Georgia between sobs.
"After about three days he was found, by the police, due to a concern from his teachers. He was sent to foster care and was adopted by another family. He got his happily ever after."
"How could she do that to her own kid?" wondered Thames, while wiping away her own tears.
"She wasn't completely in her right mind, she wasn't doing her kid any good being alive, she thought as long as he knew that she loved him, then everything would work itself out"
"But, that's- that's- well, that's just stupid and cruel, how can you put a kid through something like that. That kid is probably so messed up now" Thames said, Georgia nodding along in agree meant. How could someone do that? There was a knock at the door; it was the girls' mother.
"Hey girls, hi dad, how was your day?"
"Evening Sommer, I believe we had a great time, girls?"
"Mom, Grandpa just told us the saddest story, but it was so good" Georgia said, jumping up to get her things packed.
"Oh really, I love Grandpa's stories, but we have to meet your father out for dinner so we need to go now, but maybe next time I can hear the story" Sommer said, "Thanks for watching them dad, We'll see you tomorrow. I'll be in the car girls, don't forget to thank Grandpa," reminded Sommer.
"Thanks for everything, especially the story Grandpa, love you!" Georgia exclaimed while running out the door. Thames took a little longer making sure she'd packed everything. She walked over to her Grandpa, hugged and kissed him on the cheek; he was her hero.
"Bye Thames honey, I love you"
"Love you too Grandpa, thanks for everything," replied Thames. They exchanged a look; and in that moment Thames’ eyes grew wide in shock and realization. He slipped up in the story earlier, and now she knew, she knew the truth. Thames gave her grandfather one last soft and sweet smile before walking out the door to join her sister and mother in the car. The Grandpa Macon was once again left alone in his home. He got up and walked down to the basement. He sat in the chair he had brought down there himself long ago and just read. He let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. Quietly, he read the words he knew by heart, the jumble of letters that haunted him throughout his life, but at the same time filled him up with love and kept him going. Tears started running down his cheek, slowly at first until his face morphed into a massive sea of sadness, infinite and too dark to see through the deep waters to the magical world that lay beneath. Grandpa Macon sat in silence as the dams broke and the sea started to overflow, flooding his mind with the images that haunted his nightmares.
Dear Macon,
You are so bright, and I know you're meant to do something extraordinary for the world. Your imagination is never-ending so never give it up. The things that keep it alive are faith, and hope, but most importantly love. Never lose your faith or give up hope. I never want you to feel as if you aren't loved, because that just isn't true, you are the greatest gift from God anyone has ever received. Maybe I never got my happily ever after, but I know you will because you're stronger than me, you're the strongest person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I want you to remember me always, the flower on this canvas is a symbol of me, my life, the pain I endured, and the pain we shared. Just remember to push through the pain and you'll find happiness, and when you do, hold on to it as long as you can, you will get your fairytale ending. Never forget, the darkness always comes before the dawn.




































j'taime,






































Mommy