“Mum,” I said gently, my voice crackling as I tried to keep it together. “I need help with my hair.”
“Your hair?” she snapped. “Violet, we need to leave!”
“I just want you to brush it.” I tried to keep my voice from wobbling any further. “Please.”
Mum took a deep breath, going over to the vanity to grab my brush. “Honestly, Violet, you’re not a child.” She gestured to the seat, and I took it quickly. “Look at you, so fragile.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, unable to stop a single tear from falling.
Mum’s hands shook as she began to brush my hair, eventually moving to simply stroking the strands with her fingers. She still looked scared; every now and then her eyes darting around the room in search of those ghosts.
So I began to hum, choosing a familiar nursery rhyme she used to sing to me as a child whenever I had a nightmare.
After a moment, she visibly began to calm, even smiling at me in the fractured reflection of the mirror.
It was hours later, with mum fast asleep on the sofa bed, that I finally allowed myself to break down. I cried silently, my cheeks burning from the intensity of my tears. Mum had hurt herself. Again. The first time had been just days before I’d begged her to move in with me, hoping being close would help her feel safer.
But her hallucinations were so vivid, so real to her. AndI was suffocating in the helplessness of not being able to do anything.
Looking over, I found her fast asleep. Our dinner plates were still on the table, so going over I picked them up and placed them quietly in the sink to be tomorrow’s problem. Returning to the dining room table, I began to tuck in the chair, frowning at the strange marks on the arms of the wood.
A faint creak sounded behind me, as if the floorboards were shifting.
Spinning around, I stifled the panicked squeak rising in my throat. “Mum?” I whispered, finding her still fast asleep.
I froze, barely breathing, straining to catch any other sound.
Nothing.
Exhaling slowly, I shook my head and retraced my steps to the bathroom, convincing myself I wasn’t unravelling. After double-checking the locks twice, I crept back toward my room. Pressing my palms hard against my eyes, I sank onto my bed.
Only then to remember that was where I’d hidden the knives.
With a groan, I rolled off and crouched, peering beneath. It was empty, of course, not that I expected mum’s demon to be hiding under there. But through the gaps in the wooden slats, I could see the knives.
A moan echoed from the living room, followed by a whimper. Grabbing my pillow, I made my way back to mum, finding her still asleep, just trapped in a nightmare. Slipping beneath the duvet beside her, I reached up and brushed her dark hair away from her face.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, a promise to myself just as much as her.
Chapter 9
Violet
Staring through the glass, my chest tightened as fear tangled with guilt. I knew this was what mum needed, but the creeping weight of betrayal wouldn’t let up.
“Please!” she whimpered just on the other side. “Please don’t hurt her! Where’s my daughter?”
“How long has she been like this?” the doctor asked, standing to my side.
A nurse was gently trying to calm mum down, but nothing seemed to be working. Not when she was in such a state.
“She’s been this agitated for a few days.” I couldn’t stand still, my fingers tapping against my leg in an inconsistent rhythm.
“Do you know what set her off?” the doctor asked softly, drawing my attention away from the window. “Did something trigger her reaction?”
I licked along my bottom lip, each of mum’s cries cinching that knot tighter until every breath hurt. “I… I don’t know. I came home, and she was so frantic. Genuinely scared, believing someone was inside the flat when it was just us. She’d even began to cover the windows.”
The doctor nodded. “Do you have the list of medications she’s taking?”
