I’ve often wondered why some mothers of so many killers, psychopaths and sociopaths seem obsessed with their sons, at times to the point of neglecting or ignoring their other children. I wrote this after listening to one “good” son say his mother had completely abandoned him and his family, even her grandchildren, to move near a prison where her younger son, a serial killer, lived for years while appealing his death sentence. It was only after he died that she made contact with her other son and tried to build bridges… what drives this behavior? It led to this story…

THE CUCKOO

He could hear his mother arguing with the man she said was his father. The rise and fall of shouts made him shudder; the surge of chemicals and hormones in his blood playing at chess with his brain, moving pieces around into odd shapes and combinations. It made him uncomfortable; it was not something he thought about much, but he realized he often had the sense of edginess whenever his mother stopped focusing on him and turned her attention to others.

His mother’s attention was important to him. Not because he loved her, but because he knew he needed her to love him. He knew he loved only himself; his needs, his wants, his whims, his impulses- these were the only things that mattered, and the only things he wanted to matter… him. Me. Mine. Me.Me…me…me…….. He drifted to sleep, his mother’s voice fading from his attention.

When he woke, he became aware his mother was singing, her voice comforting and soft. She must feel badly about me hearing them arguing, he thought contentedly….

To read the rest of the story, see the link to The Twilight Mirror and the New Dawn by Jordan Amar.

© 2019