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lucky4in · 3 years

Text

Magic Interferes in New Orleans

Prompts from Piccadilly's book #3

Words used: ☆matriarch ☆throat ☆impossible ☆vinegar ☆apology ☆slice ☆microwave ☆raspberry ☆choose ☆snore

God! I can't take it. The dread is killing me. I'm losing all the blood in my fingers with how tight I'm squeezing the steering wheel. The honking around me is not helping. I can feel everyone's fear collectively as we sit in agitated traffic. Stress. Fault. Jitteriness. Indifference. Panic, panic, panic.

God, I hate being an empath. I can't even hear my own thoughts. I need to breath! Yeah. Take deep breaths. I'm not far from the U-turn lane. So what if traffic is moving 1 millimeter a minute? The storm can't be faster.

Hooooonk!

Beepbeep!

I have to get out of this situation before I have a sensory overload.

From my front and my rear, I'm surrounded by vehicles. I can't move back, I'll hit someone. I can't move up, because they'll think there's space to move and I'll be more stuck than before. Looking to my right I realize the road across the gate is fairly empty. That last car I saw go that way was 40 something minutes ago.

I gulp loosening my grip from the wheel but still holding it firmly in my palms. Taking a breath I turn the wheel and step on the gas. My car races through the grass and crashes though the metal gates. With a screech, my tires are finally rolling and I'm off. Towards the dark clouds like a fool running blindly into a lions den.

When I finally catch sight of the curling palm trees and the flying debris, my weariness is replaced by anger. We had a plan. A simple schedule. Prepare emergency food, water, and medicine, flashlights and documents, locate nearest shelters, fill up gas tank, clear the yard, and turn off the power. When the evacuation order is set, I would be too far away at the time, so my husband would get the kids from home and we...would...evecuate.

Evacuate.

We would meet at the nearest shelter with our separate cars...

Unfortunately, my...sweet...dearest mother decided to take it upon herself to pick up the kids herself...and NOT evacuate. Instead, she wanted her grand babies to feel safe during the storm and cook them a nice meal...at her house.

I almost had a heart attack when my husband said they weren't there. Instead, a note was attached to the fridge reassuring us that my elementary school kids, including a baby, did not infact disappear off the face of the earth. She wants them to feel less threatened and stressed over this "flood nonsense". Make it seem like a regular thunder storm.

Except it's not a thunder storm! It's a hurricane!

I told my husband not to worry about it, I will get the kids and be ok. The hurricane is suppose to be a bad one, the weather man said. Anything left undemolished by the storm by the end of this would be a miracle. Hopefully it won't be my sanity. I swear, she's impossible.

By the time I get to her house, the streets are flowing with water and clawing up her driveway like waves at a beach. I step out and my shoe kerplunks into the water. I groan, feeling my ears eject hot steam. I stomp onto her porch with a squish, squish, squish and jam the key into the lock.

I kick the door open and slam it shut, my anger seeming to accelerate as soon I step inside. I cringe a bit, noticing my youngest asleep on the couch.

"DON'T SLAM MY DO-" my mother sticks her head out through the kitchen doorway and spots me.

"-Oh, hi baby!"

I stretch a tight smile, coaxing my child back to sleep. "Hello, mother."

"You came just in time. I just need to get a few things done before we eat."

And there she is. Like always. Not worrying about a thing while marinating apple cider vinegar on peices of pork. Probably to slice into the-

Sniff, sniff.

-gumbo. Her calm persona was infuriating. Almost insulting.

"Too bad my son in law couldn't be here. He'd love to stuff his face with the beignets" she continues.

"He's at the shelter. Kinda like we're suppose to be" I say, honey tounged and all "which begs the question..." I lean in, my palms face down on the table. "Why aren't we there right now?" I sneer, bringing my voice down.

"Because there's no need to. You know that" she says simply.

"Maybe in your case, but not mine. You just felt entitled to do things your way. Like you always do. I had everything under control and-and you had me worried."

"You know nothing was going to happen to these kids. I knew nothing was really wrong."

"If you really felt so aloof about this, you should have stayed yourself. You can't just up and take my kids like that. We've talked about this."

She finally looks at me, turning away from her task. "I should be free to see my own grand kids whenever I want to."

"I would have probably excepted that, if we weren't in the middle of a god damn hurricane-"

"Momma! Momma look!"

I was interrupted by my two children excitedly telling me that a pie was on the way. All while showing me their hands, proof of a raspberry massacre. Animated. Passion. Triumph. Pleasant. I ruffle their heads with a quick "good job" and they ran off together. Their happiness almost cures my frustration. It does calm me down a bit though.

"Is is so much to want to keep your family safe" my mother asks.

Aaaaaaand its back.

"Is it so much to just listen to me? To just let me do things my way? I am in no less danger than you are just because I dont have the same... tools that you do."

"It looks like it puts you in a lot of danger if you have to evacuate the city. You could simply come here so momma can protect you."

"That makes me look like a normal person, mom. The streets are already flooding and a ton of people just saw me go the opposite direction. I look stupid and suspicious." I'm taken back to my teen years. Having a similar conversation with my mother. "Not everything can be solved with your protection. I can make my own decisions. But instead you undermine me and tamper with everything around you. Just because I dont have it, doesn't mean I cant keep my family safe or simply be a mother. How about, for once, you let mother nature do her job."

"Your father made this house with his bare hands, rehydrating himself with his sweat. No one is touching this house. Not even Cosmo's or Gaia or whatever." She huffs and turn away. A puff of steam emerges over her head, indicating she opened the pot of Gumbo.

"Well, when your the Matriarch, you can start making the rules around here."

Realizing an apology isn't coming, I groan restricting myself from wrapping my hands around her throat. Its silence between us, as there is after every altercation. Especially when the house is mentioned, cause it's always Papa's house. He passed away before I could even learn to speak his name. Mama always told us about Papa. How she met him, how he put her on her feet and built a house for her (it was told he even built the bricks holding this house up), how his devotion to his family and the love of his life lasted until death did them part.

"What makes you think I'm going to be the next Matriarch?" I ask, slipping in the kitchen chair.

"You will. It's a family tradition that you need to uphold. And you are the only girl conceived by me." She answers, this sounds almost rehearsed.

"Why don't the others take your place?" I ask, for the millionth time.

"It's only rare that a boy has ever been in place of a woman. And once a girl was brought in, he was removed immediately."

"If it's that simple then crown them and get it over with."

"Oh, do you think it's that easy"? She quizzes, slowly turning to me.

"Knowing you, probably not."

"Hyde is much more coordinated than that. If they really didn't think you were worthy, we would have known, but I always knew you were special."

Here she goes again. Hyde,, is supposedly the person that gifts the family with magic, life, and girls. It's the spirirt who thrones and dethrones us. No matter who we are. According to mom, the next Matriarch could be good or bad, Hyde has a plan for them in the end.

Along with Papa's stories, Hyde was always directed towards me because I was the only girl, excluding my half sister. Truthfully there was no way to know if Hyde was actually real. I'm not even sure if my parents have seen it. Mom would tell me tales at night of different women throughout our generation, chosen by Hyde and how I would be like them someday.

Perfect.

"Hyde doesn't give you this gift for no reason" mom reassures "they always have a plan. You can't see everything in a negative light. What if Hyde chooses Clio and you-"

I stop her at the mention of my youngest name.

"I'm not putting that responsibility on my kid" I say sternly, though It probably won't matter what I tell her "Especially if, no offense, she ends up like you. Completely dependent on Hyde's gift. IT didn't give me any when I was born, like the rest of you, and I'd like it to stay that way."

Silence once more.

"Perhaps you're afraid-"

"I'm not afraid-"

"-its okay."

"-Of this imaginary ghost."

"Sure, keep believing that. But when it happens~" she sings.

"When it happens to me, pigs will fly" I sneer, memories of that same sing song tone prodding at me.

She says nothing.

"Just let it go mom, it's just not meant to be. I'm not a child that you can hide under your wings when hail comes. However your gifts came to be, Hyde, the house, whatever, it must've skipped a generation."

She continues to stir. She sputters "but-but the family-"

"-The family doesn't know what's best for me and neither do you. I know I'm the only daughter to the Matriarch. I know I wasn't born with any gifts like my siblings. I know refusing my path makes me an ungrateful child and Hyde will handle me" I say reciting what I also heard throughout my life "But that's not my life. And I'm not defenseless."

She freezes. More silence.

"And, I mean, it's not like having voodoo is easy. It consumes you and it messes a lot of things up. This worlds order and the next."

"That's what the council is for" my mom mutters finally.

"Oh, right. The council. The same family who's just as dependent as you. Do you even remeber a time where you haven't used your gift and actually did things yourself?"

...

"Don't you ever think of letting go of this life? Doing things for yourself and not the family? Hyde? Papa's house? I notice how this changes you as you age. If this is the answer to our problems I wouldn't mind the sea taking this house away for a while-"

"Mama! Mama!"

"Wow, look."

I follow my kids voices and they seek for me, a glimmer of wonder and awe in there wide pupils. My 2 boys are pointing to the window in the living room. My sleeping child is now up, standing on her toes to see what her brothers are looking at.

As I begin to walk In the living room, they're rushing back to the kitchen. I take a peek and see a part of the lawn, including my rental car but the road and the neighborhood is gone. A large amount of visible debris is covering up the world around-

No.

That's not debris. That's not wind.

I follow my kids. They've opened the screen door and ventured into the back yard. I race after them and stop in my tracks. The water barrier has followed us to the backyard. My kids are screaming and dancing in the sprinklers as the hurricane is trapping us in its second eye. The oceanic barrier is circling around is, refusing to touch the property. With my kids instructions I look up, the sky is dark above us like it's the dead of night, yet inside the barrier, its murky like a cloudy day.

I can't concentrate. Excitment. Curiosity. Shock. Chills.

I sigh as my daughter wobbles to me and I scoop her in my arms. I can see it now, worst hurricane in 6 years and the Crobitt house still stands. This is similar but not related to the instance when a pair of swings at the run down school across the house seemingly froze in the air a few years ago... CIA is currently investigating...

I gather my children inside, they were starting to go towards the rushing ocean and who knows what'll happen. I shut the door with a defeated sigh and sulk at the table. The beneits sit gracefully with their powder sugar and I worship it by stuffing it in my mouth.

"I told you..."

I look up. My mothers eyes are glowing that familiar bright green and she has that devious smirk on her face. She always gave me that look as a child as if she's trying to tell me something. That, or it's to prove something, which I still dont know. I dont think I ever will.

"...you're father built this house. No one is taking it from me..."

...

"Now, elbows off the table."

-------

If you like to write or be creative, perhaps you need inspiration, go check out this book! Its the best!

#neworleans #magic #voodoo #hurricane #Matriarch #tradition #fantasy #gumbo #raspberrypie #spirit #writethestory #writer #writting #piccadillyinc #originalpost

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lucky4in · 3 years

Text

A Family Mystery Uncovered

Prompts from Piccadilly's book #4

Words used: ☆Sunday ☆secret ☆wallpaper ☆swap ☆sister ☆curiosity ☆island ☆notebook ☆marathon ☆demand

My ears ring from the war that is my family. Their jolly Sunday reunion shifted into chaos in a matter of seconds. I cower behind the sofa as the house rumbles from their screams like canon fire, their words, like poisonous arrows, zip pass me puncturing into the couch. Their weapons seem to have infinite ammo as they never ran out. There was never a moment of silence, a short break. There is no end to this storm I predict.

My thoughts are running a marathon, bouncing off the walls like bullets. I find myself covering my ears, though it did little to block out the noise. I turn my body to the destruction, despite my better judgment and the scene hasn't changed.

A cluster of people crowd around yelling, screaming in the face of the elderly man I once called my grandfather. He doesn't even bother to move as they roar for answers waving around a damaged looking notebook.

At the sight of the journal, I feel the haunting feeling return, like a tarantula crawling up my spine. Like its mocking me of what was once there and is now a mirror. I turn away quickly trying to swat the critters off my standing hairs. I had to wonder what they were doing with that thing? Why was it here? How could they hold that distorted, vile thing and keep the thoughts from creeping in? The books gaze brings back the events I desperately tried to swallow. The wires, the painted glass above, the floral wallpaper, my sister...

...

Maya, my twin, and I never seemed to be old enough to visit our grandpa's study. His house was made of circles bouncing off of eachother. White eggs floating off the ground with levitating steps that appear at the porch when you want to come in. The inside is just has large, the walls arching, not a corner in sight. It was big and mysterious. What could be better than exploring the uncharted? Despite all this, our older relatives would shrug us off or laugh when we asked to venture inside.

"Theres nothing to see" they would tell me.

Even my uncle who's lived there his whole life says it's nothing but an office. This house is the same as it was 50 years ago. If something changed he would've noticed. Our mother claims she never went in and we shouldn't cause it's just plain rude. It would be no different than someone coming into my room when I dont want them too.

But this was different. I knew it was.

Our cousin was coming home that day. Saeva's side of the family are hardcore war heads. Since the beginning of time, Saeva's father and others went into space, loaded their weapons, and blew up battle ships like it was a sport.

Saeva's been doing it for a long time. She'd come home and tell us her stories and show us her beams or sentient weapons. When I was 5, she brought over her cyborg insects for spying and infiltrating.

Our mother caught everyone by surprise when she joined the battle along side her cousins. They were insuperable even in diapers, followed eachother around pretending to be in space. Truthfully, my mother said space frightened her as a child. It was just endless nothingness yet so many deadly possibilities. But there she was. 18, graduating high school, and going into space. Together for 8 years, they flew along side eachother. Having one another's back 24/7...until my mother vanished.

One moment she was firing away, flying her ship swiftly, dodging any laser or out of control space craft, when their commander, our great uncle hears a "oh shit-" and her connection was lost.

They searched the endless void of space for months. My grandpa, her father, even went on the search. After a year and a half of nothing, our mother was presumed dead. I, still a child, didn't quite get it. I thought this always happened. Mom would go to space, be gone for a little while and come back. What do you mean she isnt returning?

Her face was everywhere, on every broadcast, on every hologram, but she wasn't home. She wasn't with us. Our grandparents refused to leave their house out of despair and Saeva's war spirit crushed her.

Miraculously, our mother appeared 2 years later. A farming couple found her, crashed on Mars. It took a while for her to come back to earth because, unfortunately, the head wound brought a little gift for her troubles: amnesia.

If your mother going missing being told she died, in the one place she feared, for years wasn't bad enough, being told she doesn't even remember you was a poison cherry on the cake.

She tried though. She really tried to build a new relationship with whoever she could. Not going to say it wasnt difficult as there was a few noticeable differences about her. Dont remember much, I kinda just got use to it. The family, longing for their sister, their cousin, their daughter back, welcomed her with open arms. Before we knew it, we were a family again.

On this bright Sunday afternoon, Saeva returns from space once more and we're celebrating like always. Our mother would be with her if the military hadn't dismissed her. "After a scare like that, an early retirement seems just right" they told her "go home yo your family."

Saeva was back with her loud voice and stories echoing throughout the circle kitchen. This was a rerun of another story, including a sad monologue of believing she would never see my mother again (cue hugs and tears) but I couldn't pay attention this time. My curiosity was too strong, I couldn't rear my gaze from the arched halls.

I saw the hundreds of hands grip the class cups and slithered my way out before the toast starts. I'm right in front of the door. The towering door just smelling of secrets. Griping the knob and turning it, it slams shut again. I jump and turn to see my "intelligent", "wise", know it all sister.

"What are you doing?" She asked with that tattletale voice.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I answer already irritated. I wince at her loud voice, peeking over my shoulder afraid people heard her.

"Mom said we shouldn't go in there."

"We shouldn't" I repeat "shouldn't is a suggestion. Therefore, we dont have to take her suggestion."

Maya does nothing but give me that sarcastic looks she loves to give people.

"You think you're so smart, don't you?" She asks.

Of course she says that. Everyone says shes intelligent in every way and the kids at school says shes the smart one of the twins. Shes calm, keeps her composure, smooth talker, very studious...and incredibly uptight. even when mom went missing, it didn't deter her from her studies and she never broke character no matter what. She must thinks she's better than everybody because everyone tells her she'll follow in dads footsteps in space travel.

I hold my tongue this one time, reminding myself of the possible treasures that lie behind the door. I grumble.

"Look, everyone has told us that there's nothing to see in Papa's office" I explain "it's not a big deal if I look through a couple of books or fool around with the Newtons Cradle, right?"

Maya is silent.

"Its only for a little while. If there really is nothing there, fine. But at least we know."

She averts her eyes from me. Tapping her annoying foot like she does when she's thinking. I grow agitated those few seconds, looking around to see if anyone has noticed us yet. I watch a couple of our kid relatives run by and a group laughter makes me jump.

"Fine." I turn back to my sister who takes her palm off the door. "But I'm coming with you."

"That's what I thought" I grip the knob again "now hurry up, loudmouth, we dont want to cause attention to ourselves."

She huffs mumbling insults at me as we squeeze through the portal, trying to hide the thud of the door. Together we turn and see... a regular office. It was sorta old fashioned. There was a curved book shelf across from the circular sectional. A brown wooden desk was in the middle of the room matching the wooden floors. Covering the walls were these out of date floral wallpaper.

"Hm" Maya hums, hands on her hips "this is what you came in for?"

"I was aware of what I was getting into smart pants. Come off it!" I stomp off.

"Whatever."

My twin and I seperate to explore the office. I catch a peek of my sister, tracing the necks of the books on the skiny black shelf. I poke the floating tablet and find nothing but the regular software installed on every computer. I plump myself in the spinning chair. I couldn't admit how internally disappointed I was. What type of secrets am I going to find in here? I sigh a bit, digging through the drawers, sweeping away erasers and staplers. I slam it shut and open another. My fingers brush against a familiar object and I do a double take. It's a key. A long rusted looking key. There was a lock on the bottom drawer but the key didn't look like it was going to fit. I felt my faith lift a little and stuff it into my pocket.

I skip up to the couch across from my sister, tracing the walls.

"Ugh" she gags "look at this wallpaper."

I turn my attention to the walls. It was true, these floral walls were extremely ugly and completely different from the rooms outside. Perhaps it was just our grandparents old-ness that made them keep it. I grimace a bit at the touch as the walls are now collecting dust, or dirt, or whatever the heck it is. I turn my head back my sister who's reading a book. Despite knowing how boring it may be, I ask her what's she reading.

"I...dont know" she says "it must be Papas old study book. It's his hand writing."

I tilt my head and step over her shoulder. The writing is hurried its almost incoherent (I wouldn't be surprised if Maya could understand. She speaks nothing but gibberish) but the drawings are clearly blue prints. One of the pictures was an outline of the house. There was a misconception that Papa had built the house himself but he denied saying how lazy he was. The drawing on the next page was a 3D perspective of an eyeball.

"What is that?" I point to it.

"An eyeball" Maya answers simply "it might be the eyeball of his dog remember?"

Papa had a childhood dog that he promised he'd put back together when he got older, but his love for the robot dog must have diminished over time. Papa is a florist of sorts. He sells plants and herbs which completely deters from the rest of the family who majors in some sort of technology. He said he was never smart enough in school and it was way to complicated for him, so he works with plants of any kind.

"What if Papa's creating a floating eyeball, that shoots beams and makes loud noises-"

"Unlikely" Maya interrupts shutting the book and walking towards the desk. "You know creating weapons, even minor ones, that aren't with the military are against the law. So are impersonating an alive or deceased person for identity theft, hacking into someone's prosthetic, letting your sentient creation loss without a chip, or creating something altogether without a permanent... Raleigh got a fine for creating a skeletal arm and attaching a slingshot to it. They're serious about this stuff."

"Yeah yeah smarty pants" I run ahead "just because its unlikely doesn't mean it can't happen."

"Quite being so childish."

I felt my blood boil a bit. Stop being childish. As if that's a bad thing. She just needs to learn to loosen up! She's always cradled with all the attention she doesn't know how to have fun!

"Quite being a smart ass" I grumble.

"That's what I go to school for. You should try it" she replies.

I snap around with my fist balled. "The only reason you get attention is because you're so-"

Before I know it my ankle bumps into a small barrier and I'm falling. My hands instinctively curl to grab something. A harsh shush sound reaches my ears before I hit the ground.

"Myles!" My twin yelps, dropping the book.

I lift my head and rub against the sore spot as my vision begins to sway. My sister grabs my arm softly asking if I was ok, adding a sharp insult "stupid" and to "be careful". Once my sight was finally in order, my jaw drops at the sight in front of me. Behind the ugly wallpaper rests a door. I small wooden door that we could easily duck into. My twin finds my gaze and we stand connected to each other staring at the hidden door.

My Heart was beating a mile a minute. I couldn't believe it. A secret! An actual secret that I found! Take that cousin's! Take that mom! Take that Maya! I couldn't find the strength to jump around and celebrate. I shuffle around in my pocket and bring out the key. I shimmy towards the door with my shaky hands and jam the key inside. It's a perfect fit. A loud click makes us jump and the door works itself and opens. A short creak followed the door opening and nothing else.

We slowly look at each others shocked faces and turn back to the door. I bend down and picked up the notebook my sister dropped and slowly step into the room. It was much larger than the office behind us and why more in the now. There was no color compared to the rest of the house but whiteness.

Small portraits and windows hung on the walls and even on the ceiling like some sort of mural. Tanks and cylinder blocks had nature's plants resting in them reminding us of Papa's green thumb. The center of the room had a large pad in the middle, singing with beeps and boops.

"Wha...what is this place?" Mayas voice makes it to my ears.

"I dont know" I look up at the ceiling. Sunlight breaks through the small windows. "This sure doesn't look like nothing to me."

"You can say that again..."

I wonder towards the large pad and my sister follows close behind me. No plant in the chamber escapes our gaze as we walk slowly through the room like a booby trap was going to appear with one mistep. I couldn't help but think to myself. Where did this room come from? How was anyone able to squeeze this in with the rest of the house. It's not visible on the exterior, not even in the backyard. I grip open the book searching for that page of the house... dang! I dont remember what page it was on!

I noticed then how most of the pages were missing. As in ripped out. Where did they go, I wondered.

I feel my sister walk past and I speed it. The screen brightens and we recognize the flashing lights and rising and falling numbers. Weird symbols follow behind one another and erases themselves before returning again.

"What is this?" I ask.

"Its...its a control system but..." Maya looks up "it's not connected to anything. Theres no computer, no healing tank, theres not even a hologram."

While Maya was rambling away, I start paying attention more to the letters that I see. I've given up on trying to understand the symbols, but the words I cant read stil dont make sense. One file read "pineapple" another said "boomerang" and "Cerberus" like the 3 headed dog. It just raised more questions. It was clear that these were code words only the maker could understand.

Moving a step closer to Maya, I squint at one file name that said "green eyes". I dont know why, but my heart began to speed up. It was something about that name that sent a chill through me.

"What's this?" My shacky finger closes in on the file name.

"No! Dont touch that-"

Maya was interrupted by a rumble. The pod dissapeared into the floorboards and steam escaped from under us. Before we knew it, the center we were sitting on left the floor and the island floated into the air. My twin and I instinctively grab eachother and gather close together. Our necks snap left to right as the windows and photos spin into the walls.

Suddenly, a burst of light and color spilled under our shoes. Looking up, I stare in shock as the ceiling opened like an egg and stained glass took over. Streams of color rained on the blank chamber bringing with it life...and a terrible discovery. I noticed the small windows and photos were swapped large tubes and pictures planted on the wall. The pages resembled the open notebook nicely.

I notice then what was in the tubes. Arms. Legs. Thighs. Limbs of all kind, but they weren't real to which I was slightly relieved. In a smaller jar stabled to the wall, those familiar eyes in the book were found. In the middle of examining the sketch, the book was snatched from me. I was going to tell my sibling off but...I couldn't. I noted my sisters face, an unfamiliar look that she never wore. That I was for sure her face muscles could never pull together. But there it was. Wide eyes, trembling lips, shacking limbs. Fear. She was afraid. Her mask broke.

I knew something was wrong.

And now I was scared.

She was briskly flipping through pages until she stopped. I peek over her shoulders. Alas, the handwriting was still unrecognizable. I turn to my sister to see if she has a clue. Her eyes were tracing the paper going back and forth. So she can read it!

She let's out a whimper as her trembling hand flips the page.

"What?" I ask.

She says nothing, silence seconds past and she flips the page again.

"What?! What is it?!" I ure her to say something. Internally praying for her to talk to me. The broken record has stopped and I feel so alone even if she's here physically. My heart matches the beat of my twin as I close in on her.

"Maya... Maya please..."

...

Her breath hitched. Her eyes bigger than before and this time, she's as frozen as a statue. I ask her what's wrong for like the millionth time shacking her a bit this time. She slowly turns her head to me, which doesn't answer me at all but her eyes tell me something worse. I follow her eyes as she turns to the tube behind us.

A whole person was in the tube, wires intermingling with her limbs and her eyes shut. She floated there sleeping peacefully.

Mom... it was our mom.

But she was different. Something about her was different. She looked so...so...real! Like a doll... a string less puppet... like a corpse.

...

A thought occured to me suddenly. Green eyes... mom had green eyes didn't she? When she got back from space... her eyes were green weren't they? But what if they weren't green. Was it just my kid imagination? Was it just all in my head? Or was it a malfunction? An error that could be corrected but was already in a deep enough hole? Does... does this mean mom is...?

...

As a little kid, I was known for being a cry baby. I swore to be the bravest kid, bragging that I went down the big slide and jumped off the swings and flew, when I did none of those things and when I got to the top of the big kid slide, I bawled my eyes out.

But I wasnt a screamer. Never a screamer, I could toast to that.

So when I did hear that scream, I thought it was me. I jump and see my sister. Mouth wide as she shrills, eyes leaking tears, and pupils shrinking at the sight before her. She drops the book, backing away. I don't notice how close she's getting to the edge until it's too late. I reach my fingers to grab hers, I fall to my stomache to get a better chance of catching her, I call her name...

Thud!

We got her to the hospital...we're told she'll be ok...

I couldn't even speak when they got me down and they were just as speechless when they got a good look at the room. They all collectively turned their gaze to Papa, who didnt say a word but look on in shock and sadness. I open my eyes to find myself behind the couch once more. The battle ongoing, the screaming ceaseless.

"What have you done?!" Saeva cried, voice cracking "That was my sister! Your daughter! How could you do this to us?!"

Finally, after hours of nonstop noise, it's silent. For once, Papa is going to respond! I curl deeper into a ball hearing nothing once again.

"SAY SOMETHING!"

Please, I think please for the love of god say something. Anything!

...

Saeva screams in despair and frustration, a perfect war cry, and the chaos started again. I feel my breath beginning to leave me. I feel faint, but how could I sleep after all that? But then again, if I do sleep, do I want to wake up? Do I want to come back to this twisted reality?

In the midst of all this, footsteps make it to my ears. They stop in front of me and I slowly uncurl myself. The familiar, kind smile meets me. Welcoming me. Comforting me. That same smile that dried my tears when I scrapped my knee. Telling me that everything would be ok.

"How about we leave this place and go home, huh, Myles?"

I look up further at the structure of the woman in front of me. The ball in my chest rising more and more at the same time. Once my gaze meets the dark pools of my mothers brown eyes, I feel the tears finally escape.

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