“Alright,” I said, hanging up.
My mind drifted to the thought of Mother. I wondered if she bought Kenzo’s lie. And if she didn’t, then I knew what would happen tonight.
I knew what I would wake up tomorrow to see in the mirror.
???
“So…” Kenzo said into the phone pressed against my ear. “Did anything happen? Did your mom ask where you were? Cause I feel like she didn’t quite buy my little lie.”
“No,” I said as I doodled away on my tablet. “I just walked in, found her perched on a stool in the kitchen, sipping coffee. I greeted, and as usual, she didn’t reply. When she didn’t say anything or ask anything, I just walked to my room.”
Yes, the air had felt tight, pressurised when I entered the house, like it had been holding its breath. I made sure to not leave behind traces of my movements. The driver had dropped me off at least three houses away.
Maybe she indeed, bought Kenzo’s lie. Maybe she didn’t suspect a thing. She didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything. Didn’t ask anything. But when I began to head to my room though, I could feel it, her eyes on me.
“But does it look like something is off?” Kenzo’s asked again, more worried than usual.
“Not really.”
He knew Mother so well. If she called him whilst angry, then there was a problem. Mother would never just call Kenzo. In fact, I doubted she had ever called him before.
But I didn’t want to tell him. I didn’t want to make the poor boy worry. It was my mother. I was used to her ways. If she decided to come back and hit me, it wasn’t a new thing. My body had been built for her strikes.
“She really sounded…angry.” He pointed out. “I hope–”
“I’m sure it’s going be alright.” I cut him off, pausing to analyse the sketch on my tablet.
I had closed my eyes earlier and had to search so hard before I could find Callan in my memory. And even when I did, he was nearly swallowed hole by a black ink. It was clear he was being erased, covered in shadows so I would not remember what he looked like.
They wanted me to forget him. And I didn’t want to forget him. I needed to paint the version of him I knew if ever there was a cruel reality where I never got to meet him again.
If I couldn’t hold him in my arms, I needed to hold him in memories somehow.
“Are you positive?” Kenzo’s voice pulled me from my train of thoughts.
“Mhmm.”
“If anything happens–”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you know,” I replied, yawning.
I let my stylus rest on the tablet, far too exhausted to continue. I would do the rendering tomorrow, and add a bit more detail to the background.
“Good night,” he said.
“Yeah, good night.”
The call came to an end and I placed the phone aside, my head resting gently on the desk. But my eyes had barely closedwhen my door suddenly swung open, revealing Mother, eyes searching until they found me.
“Is there a problem?” I lifted my head from the desk, unease settling at the pit of my stomach almost immediately. “Do you need anything?”
I rose to my feet, bracing for what was coming for me.
“Yeah,” she drew out, a devious smile lifting the corner of her lips as she shut the door behind her, taking slow and slightly predatory steps further into the room.
“What is it?” I backed away on reflex.
“You know, I was wondering what my dear daughter has been up to since I was away.” She pulled a hand from behind her back to show me the screen of her phone. “I mean, as far as I’m concerned, I left her to take care of the house. So you can imagine my shock when I have images of her in a different location with a man sent to my phone.”
