Hiraeth

ᴛʜɪɴᴋ

The first thing I notice when I walk in to the house was the smoke inhaling my nose. Running towards the kitchen, I swiftly open the glass kitchen door. My eyes instantly squinting at the smoke making it hard to see anything.

Slowly and cautiously I walk to the stove trying to figure out if the stove or oven in on. I sigh in frustration when I notice the stove is turned on. Wondering why mom left the stove on. Why isn't the smoke detector beeping right now?

I look down at the floor when I hear a shattering sound beneath my feet. Now noticing the shattered wine glasses all over the kitchen floor. Luckily I have my shoes in.

Moving my gaze back to the stove. Right when I was about to turn off the stove. A shove gets thrown to me making me land on the floor at the unexpected movement. I wince lightly when I feel a rip toward my jeans, the glass cutting through the fabric.

Holding my hands up from the floor with now cuts all over from the sharp object. I slowly look up from my hands seeing who shoved me. Already knowing who did it from the back of my mind.

Meeting moms emotionless eyes. I bite my lip from stopping myself from crying. Having to stop myself from my moms betrayal. She walks up to me slowly, stopping right in front of me. Swinging a hard kick towards my head. Landing me laying all the way to the marble floor.

A groan escapes my lips. At the harsh impact. As I feel a cold liquid feeling coming from the side of my head. I bring my fingers to my head looking down when I see blood covering my fingers.

Mom grabs a sharp glass from the floor. Stepping more towards me as I crawl up into a ball backing away from her each steps she takes towards me. Feeling myself cower when I hit the corner of the kitchen.

"You!" She points to me. "You killed him!" She throws a hard kick towards me landing on my jaw. "Your a murder!" I felt like my heart was jumping out of my chest.

She throws the shattered glass towards my face. I cry out in pain when I feel the glass on my cheek. I look down at her hand we're now it has blood trickling out of her hand.

I slowly slide up the wall trying to get away from her. As I was about to charge towards the kitchen door. She quickly grabs my hair making me scream.

"You should've been the one that died!" She screams in my ear. I try to get out of her harsh grip. That only makes her grab more of my hair into her fist. Slowly she forces my head over the steaming stove.

"No!" I cry out. "Mom!" I beg for her to stop when my face can now feel the hotness of the stove. Right when I was about to touch the stove I quickly grab her wrist from my hair twisting it. Her grip on my hair falling.

I cough loudly when more smoke starts to inhale my nose. My eyes becoming watery. I look up at Mom, with now having a sharp knife in her hand. She comes up to me with teary eyes.

"Your going to pay!" She points the knife towards me. She laughs bitterly with no emotion behind it. "You killed my son!"

She charges towards me. I quickly dodge her. Trying to get out of the kitchen but can't see anything. The smoke filling in more making me want to fall asleep. Trying to ignore the extremely huge migraine I have right now.

I slightly stumble on an empty wine bottle, quickly regaining my stance when I hear her behind me. She swings the knife towards me landing a scratch near my arm. I groan quietly trying not to make a sound.

Soon before I knew it I was thrown against the wall, mom hands gripping my neck, choking me. The only thing in my sight is her.

"Your a murder!" She yells. Yet all of her screaming just feelt like background sounds. My eyes getting blurry by the second. My legs becoming numb. The only thing I feel are the tears falling from my eyes.

I never really thought about death. I mean why would I? I had a great life. A funny cousin, a great little brother, a caring mom. No, I never thought about death. I mean why would I want to die for? I was an innocent child. Didn't know nothing about reality.

But.

It sucks. It really does when reality finally hits you like a moving train. I miss my innocent mindset. I looked at the world with such happiness. Thinking what could go bad. I was fortunate to have a happy young childhood.

Reality.
Life.
A wake up call.

We live in such a cruel world. Where people abduct young children. Where drunk drivers take other people lives. Than after, your met with 'what's if' and I think 'what if's' are the worst thing a person can think of.

Always living in regret, and always thinking. 'What if I didn't call for help?' 'What if I called an Uber?' 'What if I just walked home?' 'What if I haven't even gone out that night?' 'What if we didn't go to the park?' 'What if I told him let's hide somewhere else?' 'What if I told him let's play a different game?'

I think 'what if's' are the most cruelest way to think about a traumatic event. Thinking of that might as well be a suicide. It's the most hardest thing to even do. I know this because I think 'what if' every single day of my life since the accident.

Soon as I'm about to close my eyes. Already feeling the tiredness. Mom drops me to floor. Making me gasp for air. Like I have been drowning for a long time. The same time I cry out in pain when my body makes contact with the glass.

I slowly look up at mom when I see her hold a black pistol. I feel like everything stopped. I know I won't get past this. I won't ever. My mom, mi mama. My mama was a caring lady she was like another friend to me.

"Honey!" A deep voice yells. Mom who is glaring at me harshly.

I slowly look down at my stomach when I feel a sharp pain.

"Mama," I cried out.

She shot me.