OXYTOCIN [ t.c ]

2 - crystal clear.

ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? - Tyler, The Creator

~~

Avril Martin

I woke up to a pounding headache, throwing my hand to touch my head. I groaned, squinting at the light entering the bedroom through the windows. When did I get home? My phone began ringing, I shoot my head to the bedside table to see Adam's name displayed on my phone.

My finger swipes right, groggily putting the phone to my ear and getting out of bed. "What?"

"The Meyers are in Normandy, Mom called."

God save me, I can't do this today. I have three siblings, Adam, Coral, and Cassie. Adam and I have always been close because we're around the same age, Coral is the youngest, I love her to death. And lastly, Cassie. She was the eldest child of the Martins and the brightest. Cassie was the first one of us to join the mafia, but in the end, it lead up to her leaving us.

We were never told in detail about Cassie's death, and maybe it was for the better. All we know is that one of the Meyers, supposedly Ashton, Jesse, and Marielle's father, shot her on a train while she was on her way to France from Germany. It's one of the reasons we moved here too, everything's linked and it's all wires behind curtains.

I sighed at the thought of it, "And how does this affect us?"

I put the phone on speaker and started making my bed, I'll do anything to stretch time until I have to leave this room. "I don't know, but she said we have to be there by Wednesday, which is," he emphasizes on the 'is' while he calculates. "Five days. Happy Saturday." I roll my eyes and throw the pillows on the bed, tying my hair up and finally leaving the room. I haven't been to Normandy in a while, and as much as I love the scenery and everything about it, my Mom can stress the fuck out of me.

I think it's mom logic, well, mafia mom logic. Maria Grace Martins. She grew up in my Grandfather's shoes and had to re-live the same thing after she married another mafia-family heir. And God she loves it. She's everything in a woman, and that makes her the scariest person I've ever encountered, and I don't get scared easily. My mom is the typical, red-lipped, Valentino-wearing, and pearl jewelry woman. She makes me who I am today, it didn't take me seconds to find out where the Martins children got their bravery from. 

But at the end of the day, she is my mom. She's taken care of us as her life depended on it and now wants only the best from and for us. In my opinion, that's not too much to offer after all she's done for us. Cassie and she were close, probably because she saw a lot of potential in her and made sure she was proving her hypothesis right. They had a lot in common, I think they were best friends too. But ever since Cassie passed away, she's trying to fulfill that emptiness by pressurizing me.

The reason she never hops off my back is that she's scared.

She's scared that I'm not prepared enough for fucked up situations, and that I won't be able to handle it. I don't need to prove to her that I am more than capable because she knows it. Here's where the general mom logic comes in, all moms want what's best for their kids, therefore pushing them to their limit, and I have a high tolerating limit, and Mom knows that best.