The packet was tossed on my bed, torn open.
“What happened?” I asked, the relief at seeing her almost enough for my eyes to prickle with heat. “Mum?”
Carefully kneeling, I checked her arms, my fingers gently brushing over her scars to check for anything fresh. Tears glistened on her cheeks, head turning slowly to stare at me.
“They’re watching us through the mirrors,” she whispered, as if to keep our conversation private. “I can feel their eyes on me.”
“There’s no one here, mum,” I said gently. “Did you cut yourself on the mirror?”
“Of course not, Violet,” she snapped, her mood shifting as she jerked away and climbed to her feet. “Where have you been? You didn’t come home.”
“I went on that date, remember?” I collected the broken shards on my knees, thankful it had shattered in relatively chunky pieces. “He was a complete tool. Made a mess, disappeared, and then left me with the bill.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have gone out,” she tutted, picking up one of the pill packets to frown at the label. “It’s dangerous. You could’ve been followed and drawn those monsters straight here.”
“I promise it was fine. No one followed me.” Placing the mirror carefully on the side of my desk, I began to collect the pills that I could reach on the carpet.
Unfortunately, my room was a mess, with clothes thrown lazily from the bed to my door, books stacked sideways in unstable towers, and my half-finished sketches claiming almost every flat surface. The rug itself was a dull grey, the cheap pile surprisingly thick enough to swallow anything small.
Which meant it took a while to find them all.
“Have you taken your medication tonight?”Or have you just thrown it around the room?I wanted to add, but I knew it would only antagonise her further.
“Of course.” Mum brushed her fingers through my hair, her nails scraping slightly on my scalp. “Where’s your necklace?”
Shit.
I carefully untangled her fingers before pressing my hand instinctively to my collarbone. “I must have left it at the studio. You know I don’t like wearing it while I paint.”
Mum’s eyes narrowed, dark compared to my light. “You should never take it off, Violet. It’s important.”
“I’m sorry, I know. I’ll put it back on.”
“You know, and yet you still take it off,” she muttered before mumbling something I couldn’t quite hear. Her eyes watered once more, her breathing becoming laboured.
“It’s okay, it’s just us here. No one else,” I tried to reassure her, but there wasn’t much I could do. Not recently. Not since her last episode where she cut open her own arm to remove a tracking device that didn’t exist.
“They’re looking for me.” Her hands clenched onto mine, scratching against my skin. “I can feel it.”
“Mum, no one is looking for you, okay? It’s just me here.”
“No, you don’t understand. They’re going to get us.” She sucked in a breath, looking over her shoulder at what remained of the vanity mirror. “We’re in danger. We need to get out!” Her words rose to a scream, her movements frantic as she flung herself towards my wardrobe and began to grab my clothes. “We need to get out, Violet! Before they find us.”
I swallowed my tears, forcing my voice not to break. “Mum, my hair,” I said gently, making sure my movementswere slow as I sat myself down on the stool. “I just can’t get this tangle; can you help?”
Mum immediately paused, her dark eyes rimmed in red.
“Please.” I reached for the brush, holding it out towards her. “Brush my hair first, and then we can run, okay?”
Her nod was more of a violent jerk, her movements rigid as she took the brush from my outstretched hand and then began to untangle my braid. After a while, her ministrations calmed, the rhythmic movement not so rushed as she carefully brushed through the long strands.
I watched her in the broken reflection, the woman who used to kiss my cuts, sing me nursery rhymes, and read me fairytales. Now she was slipping, piece by piece, lost in her own mind.
“They’re still coming for us,” she muttered. “But don’t worry, I’ll protect you, my little flower.”
“No one is coming for us, okay?”
Mum hummed, the bristles of the brush starting to drag against my scalp.
