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Falling. Her dreams were always haunted by the rush of air against her skin, the jump in her chest as momentum picked up and she accelerated to the ground below. It was as if she was descending into a void. She was surrounded by nothingness, no colors anywhere in sight. The scene reminded her of outer space, the times that her and other agents had visited the Horizon Lunar Colony with Winston for intel. Except, in space, there were endless stars. Light reflected from rocks and other natural debris and filled the void with infinite sights to be seen. Here, the space was haunting.
Eventually, though, she would see the ground approaching, a block of brown dirt against the sea of nothing waiting for her embrace. She always had half a mind to be relieved, for it meant that her fall was nearly over, but the fearful part of her mind never failed to take over – she didn’t want her time to be up. She didn’t want to meet her end in an expanse of emptiness. This couldn’t be it.
Fareeha always woke up before the impact. She would open her eyes in an instant, a heavy breath caught in her throat while her chest felt like it was still falling. It was normally right as dawn hit that she finally broke free from her head. Sleep never left her satisfied, and together her and Angela often joked that they were “tired of sleeping.” Fareeha smiled at the thought.
She stretched her arms and pulled herself from her bed with a loud yawn. It was Thursday, group workout day, and she was meeting Echo, Brigitte, and Angela to lift some weights. Fareeha couldn’t help but think that she and Brig would be doing most of the spotting, and she wasn’t quite sure exactly why Echo wanted to work out – perhaps she just wanted to feel included. As she brushed her teeth, the thought of skipping the weights and simply benching Angela popped into Fareeha’s head, and she snorted.
When Fareeha opened her door to leave, she nearly tripped over a package on the ground. The initial surprise flowing away, she looked down to find a box with her name written in large black letters, its surface marked with two delivery stickers: one for shipment to the Helix base in Grand Mesa and the other forwarding the package from Grand Mesa there to Watchpoint Gibraltar.
An eyebrow raised, Fareeha picked up the box. It was fairly light and carefully taped, and she was surprised that it had been handled so carefully throughout its long journey. Back in her room, Fareeha stabbed the tape with the sharp point of a pair of scissors and cut open the seals. Inside was an impressive pile of papers, some in better shape than others, each with a number in the top left corner. She gently picked up the first paper, seeing that its body was lined with neat Arabic script.
Dear Daughter, it began, and Fareeha dropped the paper. It floated slowly down to the edge of her bed, and she stared at it with wide eyes. It couldn’t be. If this was someone’s idea of a cruel joke, then she wouldn’t hold back from throwing a gut punch or two.
She took a deep breath, barely able to concentrate with her heart beating so loudly in her ears. With shaky hands and sweaty palms, Fareeha picked up the letter once more. It had wrinkled and faded with age, but the ink was still legible. She thought back, trying to remember ever seeing her mother journaling, but her mind came up blank. Funny that the only time her thoughts were quiet was when she needed them the most.
Fareeha tried to calm her hands, and, taking a seat, she began reading.
Dear Daughter,
Right now you are in my belly. You have lived there for six months so far, and sometimes you are so still and peaceful that I wonder if you are still there. Then, you always ease all of my worries with a kick to the stomach.
You have the strongest little legs.
Your father and I are so excited to finally meet you. We often argue about what you will look like – my eyes or his, his nose or mine. No matter what, we have long agreed that we already love you more than anything. It’s odd, loving someone so much when you have never even met them.
Somehow I feel like a know you so well already, like I can tell your personality just by how you behave in my stomach. You are strong yet need your quiet time. You are also very indecisive and perhaps think too much – you’re always squirming around in there, never able to pick a sleeping position.
Maybe I sound crazy. Your father doesn’t exactly get it when I tell him, but the connection I feel to you is like none I’ve ever felt before.
Until we meet,
Your Mother
A spot of ink in the middle of the paper blurred as a drop of water hit it. Fareeha touched her fingers to her eyes to find them spilling with tears – she hadn’t even noticed that she had started crying. The feeling was too much yet not enough all at once. She wanted, she craved more of her mother’s words, but each sentence broke her heart in different and painful way. Her chest ached as she picked up the next letter.
Dear Daughter,
You were born two days ago. It has been incredibly chaotic and amazing getting to finally see you. There were no complications, and, just one day after you took your first breaths, here we are at our home in Canada. I almost couldn’t believe they let us leave so quickly just like that. It’s a very strange, terrifying feeling. We’ve waited nine months for you, and suddenly it seems like things are moving so quickly.
You’re beautiful. We have named you Fareeha because of the joy you bring and because the moment you were in our arms, you smiled. You were born with a tuft of dark hair and the cutest, chubbiest little body.
My love for you only grows with each day.
Don’t lose that smile,
Your Mother
A small photograph was carefully taped underneath the body of text. In it was her mother gazing down at the drooling infant cradled in her arms as she sat propped in a hospital bed. In a chair beside her sat Fareeha’s father, smiling nervously and giving a thumbs up. They both looked so young and clueless. Through her tears, Fareeha choked out a short, breathy laugh.
A knock at the door broke her from the past. Putting the letter back into the package, Fareeha slid the box under her bed and pulled open the door to find her entire workout party – Angela, Echo, and Brigitte – standing there in their sweats with concerned looks in their eyes. Truthfully, Fareeha wasn’t in the mindset to be spending more energy on social interactions at the moment. She was too confused, too drained, and it wasn’t even noon.
“You were late,” Angela said, and despite everything Fareeha couldn’t help but think about how cute she looked with her hair in a messy bun. “We wanted to check up on you.”
“The only other time that you were late was when you were sick in bed with a fever,” said Echo, floating over to wear Fareeha stood.
Brigitte sighed through a smile. “Echo wouldn’t stop reminding us of that.”
Echo looked like she was staring directly into Fareeha’s soul as she scanned her over with a faint blue light. “Temperature seems normal,” she stated. “And I cannot help but worry. Doctor Liao did the same thing when your mother was late to meetings.”
A frown grew across Fareeha’s face once more. Sometimes it seemed like everyone knew her own mother more than she did. It didn’t seem fair. She wanted a mother; she needed a mother. She needed someone to catch her in ways that Angela could not. Fareeha loved Angela but could not expect her to give her guidance in the way she knew her mother could. “I’m far too tired today,” Fareeha finally said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Sorry.”
“Your health is more important,” Angela immediately replied. Fareeha was surprised that she refrained from giving her advice for a better night’s sleep, but recently Angela had gotten better from separating her work from her relationship. It was nice to see her stressing less about every aspect of her girlfriend’s health.
Brigitte nodded. “You can always join us later on if you want. Go on and get your beauty sleep.” She walked by with a smile and a pat to Fareeha’s shoulder. Echo followed, giving her one final scan with the blue light in what looked like an effort to quell any leftover worries.
As Angela turned to leave as well, Fareeha softly held her arm. “Stay,” she mumbled, and Angela nodded.
Fareeha led her back into her room and sunk down onto her small, messy twin bed with a groan. She didn’t want to have to explain to Angela what was going on, but she took comfort in her presence nonetheless. In silence, Fareeha pulled the package out from under her bed and handed it to Angela. “Tell me what you think of this,” she said.
Angela pulled back the flaps of the box and examined the stack of letters inside. Her brow crinkled as she held the first letter and looked it over closely with a thoughtful hum. “I think,” she began, “I can’t speak Arabic.”
Momentarily forgetting about the growing lump of stress that sat like a rock in her chest, Fareeha snorted. “Right, right,” she said, seeing that she unfortunately would have to explain the situation after all. “They’re letters from my mom. I found them outside my door this morning.”
Angela blinked and sat quietly for a moment. Confronting ghosts from the past was always difficult, especially in their line of work where some met their ends so tragically. Fareeha had dealt with ghosts throughout her entire life. Memories others had of her mother came to her like puzzle pieces, forming in her mind a picture of what kind of soldier, friend, and mentor Ana once was. Her own memories sometimes only seemed to make up a fraction of the woman known as Ana Amari, and it was hard to stomach that. Fareeha knew that her mother wanted to protect her by keeping her in the dark about the true extent of what she did for a living, but she longed to know everything about Ana. She longed to complete the puzzle, to see every incredible detail of the scene.
Perhaps these letters held the answers she so desperately wanted.
“If you would like to read them, then I’ll stay here with you,” Angela finally said softly, resting a hand on top of Fareeha’s. “But don’t feel like you have to right now.”
“I want to,” Fareeha said with a confident nod.
Angela smiled. “Well then I’ll be here for moral support.”
There had to have been over a hundred letters, each one highlighting an aspect of Fareeha’s life through the eyes of her mother. One detailed Jack and Gabe meeting her for the first time, Ana writing, that was the most tears I’d ever seen those two doofuses shed in the entire time that I’ve known them just because you waved your chubby little hand.
Dear Daughter, the twentieth letter began. Your first word was “Gabe.” How could you betray me like this? He’s grinning.
From,
Your Disappointed Mother
Fareeha read that one aloud to Angela who joined in with her laughter. What she had thought would become a fall into a pit of depression was instead becoming an emotional rollercoaster. Fareeha snorted when her mother detailed the time that she and McCree drew faces onto all of Torbjorn’s turrets with marker. She smiled from ear to ear reading about when she scraped her knee on the hard ground of the Watchpoint hangar, and her tears immediately dried the moment that Sojourn patched her up with a flower-printed bandage. Then, as time period of the letters progressed further, her eyes filled with tears as she saw her mother’s growing fear in her words.
Dear Daughter,
I see Jack teaching you the proper way to hold a pistol. There is a light in your eyes that terrifies me. Perhaps I’ve made a mistake in bringing you here.
I want you to live happily, and I know you won’t be able to if you choose this path. All around me is bloodshed, violence, and death – things I would never want you to see.
I never stop looking at you as my baby, that tiny baby girl who smiled when I held her for the very first time. But you are growing up and will soon be drawn into a life that I never wanted for you. I am so sorry.
I wish that you could see how horrific this work truly is before you decide to make it your life.
I only want what is best for you,
Your Mother
Fareeha clutched the letter close to her chest wondering what her mother would think if she saw her now, flying through the sky with her raptora armor and rocket launcher, doing her under makeup with segments of hieroglyphics…
…trying to be her mother.
It was exactly what Ana had been afraid of. Would she feel guilty if she saw her daughter now? Heartbroken? Was she rolling in her grave with frustration at her daughter turning her worries into a reality? Angela reached over and wiped a stray tear from her cheek, and Fareeha took her hand, holding it against her face before Angela had a chance to pull it away.
She moved on to the next letter.
Dear Daughter,
Life as you know will change someday. I can’t be sure exactly when, but there will soon come a time that I am no longer around. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry that it has to be that way.
I am selfish. I brought you into this world; I exposed you to the dangers that surround my life. I should have listened when your father told me that it was too dangerous for you to spend time at the Watchpoint, but I didn’t want to leave your side for even a second. I love you too much.
And now you want a pair of combat boots, you ask to shoot McCree’s gun, and you tell Reinhardt that you want armor like his. You want to ride off into battle just like I did. Some nights I cry myself to sleep thinking of that, of you fighting in a war and the trauma that it will entail. I think of my small baby girl surrounded by enemies, crying like you used to when you skinned your knees on concrete.
Then, I remind myself that you are strong. You have the look of a warrior in your eyes, and you hold your head high and confident. I know that you will succeed at anything you decide to do; I know that you will stick out above all the rest and prove yourself to the world. I am still afraid for you. Nobody comes out unscathed.
I will watch over and protect you until the end of time, my sweet baby. I will do everything in my power to make your life easier, even if that means sacrificing myself. Sometimes it may not make sense to you, but living with your father is safer.
It will give you the opportunity to see another, calmer way of life. It will give you time to think about what you truly want with nobody there to sway your decision. So, very soon, I will be gone and you will go to live with him. I love you so much. I cannot apologize enough, and I hope that someday you can forgive me.
Never under any circumstance blame yourself for my departure from this life. It will be of my own free will. You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.
Until we meet again,
Your Mother
The crumpled letter shook in Fareeha’s uneasy hands. She wanted to tear up the paper and hug it closer at the same time. Her indecision, the complicated contradictory feelings swirling in her head, it all made her feel like she was about to explode. Perhaps that was how Ana felt as she wrote the letter. Did she doubt herself?
Fareeha finally let the letter fall to her lap and let out a sob. Angela scurried to her side and pulled her close, running a gentle, soothing hand up and down her back. “She knew,” Fareeha choked out. “She knew that she was going to die. She…she wanted it to happen.”
Angela said nothing but cradled Fareeha’s head close to her chest, pushing tear-soaked strands of hair out of her face. “I don’t know what to feel,” Fareeha whispered. Her head throbbed as she tried to get a handle on her emotions. Sadness, anger, understanding – they all struck at her brain battling for dominance.
“You don’t have to know,” Angela said softly. “It’s overwhelming to try to understand everything so soon. Give yourself time.”
She knew that Angela was right, but she had had the time of her entire adult life to think about how she missed her mother. She wanted closure now, and she still didn’t have it. She was losing patience in herself.
And now there was only one letter left.
It was a lot of faith to put into one piece of paper. Perhaps it was foolish of her to get her hopes up, to build herself up only to fall back down towards disappointment. It was hard to feel fulfilled by simple words on a page. The letters were a far cry from her mother’s own voice speaking in front of her. Nonetheless, she picked up the final letter. It had no date and its surface was smooth, only wrinkled from resting for so long at the bottom of a box. It definitely appeared to be the most recent letter.
Dear Daughter,
Every day I am nothing but proud of you. Any disagreement that we’ve ever had is nothing compared to the pride I feel whenever I see you. My heart soars at your grace, your strength, and your sensitivity.
There is so much that I want to say to you, but for now I will settle for this:
Your entire life, I have thought of how you deserved better. You deserved to be born in an era not torn apart by war. You deserved a childhood spent on a playground surrounded by friends your own age, not on a war base. You deserved a mother who could be there for you every second of every day but had to fight in battles instead.
Through it all, you kept your smile. The hurt you might feel inside has never caused you to hurt others. I can’t say I’ve done the same.
You amaze me, habibi. I want to hold you close but also let you go to see you fly.
Keep flying,
Your Mother
Fareeha stared at the words, reading and rereading until her eyes could no longer focus. She felt anger that there were so many things left unsaid, so much confusion still lurking around her. That was it. All she could do was sit with a box of memories on her bed, continuing to feel so incomplete.
More than all else, though, she felt hope.
Hope was a slippery slope. It drew you in and could cast you out even harder, making you fall further down the pit of despair. Fareeha was taking a chance to trust that hope, for the letter seemed to allude to her mother watching her, to her mother living. It certainly could have been written by someone else, and it perhaps seemed crazy to cling to the small chance that Ana was out there somewhere. It was something.If her mother was truly out there, then she would find her somewhere, somehow.
Fareeha collected the letters back into a neat pile and put them back in their box. Angela smiled and gave her a hug, praising her for getting through the entire box in one sitting. “If you would like to have a nice, long talking session with me, then I’m all ears,” the doctor said. Fareeha noticed that she avoided saying therapy, although she certainly wasn’t afraid to say that she needed it. She would certainly take Angela up on the offer.
That night, as Fareeha drifted to sleep with Angela resting in her arms, she dreamt of falling. The same dark void that had been her companion every night welcomed her again with wind against her face as she plummeted.
Instead of giving up, Fareeha closed her eyes and grasped at the small hope that, this time, she would learn to fly before hitting the ground. Against all odds, there had to be something that she could do. The ground approaching faster and faster, Fareeha felt no fear and waited to see what would happen next.