Her

“I’m back,” I said to no one in particular. It was just me, me and the black shapes that followed me everywhere. They wouldn’t dare trouble me here. I was the threat when I was alone. I removed my contacts and sure enough they repelled. My eyes though beautiful were deadly. One look and you die. I sighed and went up, without a thought I opened the door to my room and winced when the cold wave hit me. How could I forget they lived here. All of them just waiting for me to sleep, waiting for my mind to be vulnerable so they could attack. Their presence brought a feeling of dread, of cold, of death… the house was depressing but my room was a hellhole. But I preferred it all way more than her. I don’t really remember my dad, I just know he got tired of her antics and left. For me my life starts when I was seven and I tripped. I don’t even know why it’s important, I just fell on the road but it’s as if my life started from there. Whenever I try to think back just the seven year me comes to my mind. Something significant must have happened but I just remember seeing a light nothing else.

 

I went to the kitchen looking for something to eat, I never felt hungry or thirsty, I just wanted to have something in my mouth. Today I wanted something spicy so but all I could find was a packet of cheetos. They would do. I was going back when I noticed a reflection. I dropped the packet. I looked around for anything heavy. Something must be here, I thought. There it was a big serving spoon made of steel. It would do. I picked it up and closed my eyes and with one swift movement I broke the little shiny thing to pieces. I couldn’t open my eyes yet, the pieces still reflect. I had to clean up. I moved my hand around the floor, thinking where the hell did a reflective thing end up here. I was sure I had done away with all of them. My eyes were dangerous, even to me. One by one I picked up the pieces and threw them out. When it was safe I opened my eyes. I looked at my hand to see that a small piece of glass had gone in and cut my skin. Normal people would have felt it, screamed in pain but not me I just rolled my eyes and put in under the faucet. Why me? I thought once again.

 

What if life was normal for me once, if not why was I different? Was I paranormal? Supernatural? Unnatural? Or just plain old crazy me? I’d searched for someone like me, I’d even gone to the asylum once, bored I’d come back but not before staying a whole day there. The people there didn’t really talk, some lived in their own world, some got worked up too easily but there was one lady who saw it, the ghost just seconds before she died. I’d seen darkness above her and she had the mark. Instinctively I traced the little mark on my left hand, a beaten up snake eating its own tail. The circle was incomplete, broken in the middle and surrounded by a dark cloud, the mark of death. I remember her last words, when she’d seen me she pointed right at me and with her last breath shouted, “You’re stuck!”

 

The mark was confusing too, I’d had it for as long as I remember, but I’d also had the mark for immortality, a beautiful snake eating its own tail, forming a ring. Light radiated from it. I had the mark of the cloud of darkness and the ray of light. But how the hell could I die and live forever? How could I radiate both dark and light? I’d read and searched, coming up with nothing and thought why does it matter anyway…

 

I went back to my room and screamed. Nothing was wrong I just felt like it. After taking it all out I looked at the watch. It was time. Scream all you want now, later you won’t get a chance. I could feel the ghosts’ triumph knowing what was near. I put on my bright red contacts and distracted my mind, tempting them to haunt it. But of course they wouldn’t. They enjoyed seeing me getting stumped. They just needed popcorn, the movie was ready for them.

 

“Dew. Come down right now!”

 

Think of the devil. I didn’t pay any heed to her voice just put my earplugs on and waited for her knowing she would come up. I wasn’t affected by her, not anymore. She had hurt me so bad I didn’t feel anything anymore. Sure if someone asked I’d say the ghosts killed me from inside, but the truth was she did. I took a deep breath and waited for it, for her to open the door to my room and feel the intense dread of the ghosts. It wasn’t like this always, when I was seven I put up with her. I felt a little bad for her. She told me stories about my grandmothers, her mother made her work all day and mother-in-law hated her and even threw her out once. My aunts were selfish and mean and they troubled her no less and her brother made her do his work for him. I believed her. They were all lies. She hated herself, her life and believed she was worthless. I saw it that day when my relatives came to visit, how mean she was, how self-pitying. They tried to reason her out but she wouldn’t listen. I haven’t talked to them since.

 

“Dew, where’s my water!!”

 

 I was supposed to be ready with a tray of water and starters when she came. She worked all day for me after all. I heard footsteps, angry footsteps. She was coming up. Though I didn’t care about her I still stepped out telling myself it wasn’t because she could die in there, it was because I didn’t want her in my room. You never knew what she would break. I just came out, pretended not to notice her and started going down the steps.

 

“Wait a second girl.”

 

I looked up innocently and said, “Hi mom didn’t realize you were back.”

 

“Oh you sure did but you were too busy to acknowledge my presence. You must be thinking let the old lady die of hunger, why do I care. I’ll finally get some peace. But that’s not going to happen. This is my house young lady and you will follow my rules till you’re here. I know what you’re thinking, I’ll move out as soon as I’m eighteen. Why put up with her any longer. But I can tell you this the world out there is not as nice as it looks. One day without me and you’ll come crying back. Wait till you have kids then you’ll understand.”

 

I didn’t listen the things she’d told me a hundred times before, didn’t acknowledge just sighed, went back into my room and plopped down on the bed. It wasn’t always like this. When I was younger she had as much patience to put up an act. Things would go real slow. She’d play a good mom for many days and snap twice or thrice in a month, so cleverly that I thought it was my fault. At seven I cared, I put up with her, tried to do things her way, at thirteen I decided she was crazy and did what I wished, but she still ruled my life. I used to snap right back at her, thinking she’d see how wrong she was but that only made her angrier…Now at sixteen, I just didn’t care. She was a nobody. I didn’t hate her, you hated someone who you had real feelings for. I just didn’t like her. I didn’t care about anything now. I didn’t have any feelings. I never let anything get to me. No one could ever hurt me. I didn’t feel, I wasn’t fun anymore. I was just someone…someone else.

 

When she banged at my door I shouted back. You know what mom you’re angry because you’re wrong, not because I talked back.

 

The ghosts mocked me, almost pitied my condition. But even they knew, they were helpless in front of my eyes. I didn’t want to go out on a hunt today. I just wanted to sleep. I didn’t remove my contacts just lay down, knowing this was too much to resist. They would capture my vulnerable mind at night and then I would sleep peacefully forever…

Author's Note

PS I have nothing against my mom, she's not like that and the sweetest person in the world. This is just fiction. I'm too not so depressive.

Reviews

[ewest1220]

Actually pretty interesting. I'm thinking I should probably go back and read chapter 1 so I understand a little more. Though this piece has got me begging for more. Great job!