KINGSMAN

XX

SYLVIA FELT A TWINGE A SHAME AS SHE SNUCK BACK INTO HER OWN HOUSE AFTER TIP-TOEING AROUND THE PEOPLE IN IT.

She wasn't entirely sure why, her mother should have been a work already, or at least passed out in her car in some mall parking lot. And, well, her father was never meant to stay.

The house was stunningly empty when she opened the door. She hadn't been used to the fullness of it before. Now that it was hollow again, it was as if it gauged something inside her that she didn't have the time for, nor want, to think about.

She tucked her shoes onto the rack and shuffled towards the fridge. It hummed to life, the light flickering briefly before shocking awake. There was the usual: takeout, leftovers from the few and far between cooking attempts, sparse groceries... and a new addition. A tupperware labelled: For Sylvia.

She pulled it out and popped the lid off. Inside was twelve small parcels of lobongo lotika, a sweet made of of fried dough filled with mawa and sealed with cloves that she'd enjoyed a lot as a child and forgotten about as time stretched on. 

She shut the lid and crumpled the note, a new weight cast over her, and trudged into her room- Only to find her mother frozen and staring at her wall. Lorraine stood with her arms crossed, one hand over her mouth, her eyes jumping over the red lines Sylvi had pinned to her wall.

"Ma-" she stuttered, unsure of how to begin.

Her mother didn't turn to her, her eyes had locked on Benjamn's card, all the lines connected to it- the word: Dead, scrawled in thick black marker. "We need to talk."

Lorraine made them both herbal tea, having sat Sylvi down on one of the couches as she bustled about the kitchen in absolute silence. Sylvi hands curled into fists in her lap, her mind racing. Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to display her work so openly, but then again, her mother was rarely home.

Lorraine came back with two steaming mugs. Sylvi clutched hers, the burn grounding her in the moment. Her mother stared at her for a second, opening and closing her mouth over and over again.

"I'm sorry for being in your room," she finally said.

Sylvi startled. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry for being in your room," Lorraine repeated. "I thought you were acting strange and I wanted... I wanted... I'm not sure what I meant by it but I thought I could maybe better connect with you." she sighed. "The plan was to wait for you to come home so we could talk but then, your wall."

Sylvi hung her head.

"How long?" her mother asked. "How long has that been up there?"

"A couple days. Maybe a week... I don't know, everything's kind of been a blur."

Her mother knelt before her, having set her mug down to clasp Sylvi's hands in her own. "Sylvia, I know I haven't been around like I should but please, tell me, what is going on? You're different since going to that school, quieter. Your shoulders are always so tight, scrunched up to your ears like you're expecting a fight. And your eyes are so far away all of the time. I want to know what's wrong."

A tension was pulled taut inside her, drawing her into herself. Sylvi slipped her hands out of her mother's hold and turned away from her. "I... I don't know what to tell you."

"Sylvia—"

She made her way into her bedroom and shut the door. The lock clicked louder than it usually did. Sylvi slumped down on her bed, head between her knees, her hands tugging at her hair. After what seemed like an eternity, her mother shuffled up to her door and knocked softly.