The Uprising

CHAPTER 27

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My whole life has been an enormous lie. I was always told that my brother walked down the wrong path. He mixed with the wrong crowd; he had the worse type of friends. My mother drilled these facts in my head after his death. Always abide by the law, and the law will protect you. Go against it, and it will go against you. All those lectures made no sense now.

The law, the law, the law.

Five weeks had passed since I learned that my mother was one of the five Dailies.

Strategy.

It wasn't easy to view her as the mastermind that plots out everything in a secret anti-government organization. She was a mother. The only thing I knew she strategized was how to conserve energy and prepare chicken. I wanted to be angry at her, and I was.

My room had become my prison. Only coming out when I needed food. It was five in the morning, and I'm currently preparing my breakfast. Usually, I would wait for her to go to work, but my stomach won't stop grumbling. This was not healthy. My body needs fresh air, and my mind needs an explanation because pretty soon, I'm sure that I would start going crazy.

I'm already losing it. The way I used the knife to slice the sausages angrily was proof of that. My index finger accidentally got into the way of my rage chopping. It leaves a small cut on my index finger. It was painful but only for a second. I rush to the sink and used the water to wash the blood away.

I expected a nasty-looking cut but there wasn't anything there, not even a mark. It was as if I didn't cut myself at all. I was hallucinating. No sleep in weeks, bearly had any food, and to top it all. I came up with every possible theory as to why my mother didn't tell me about her after-work activities.

Leaning onto the counter, I dried my hands. My thoughts hauled in, pushing me away from my surroundings, causing me to stare at nothing in particular. I wasn't aware of the sound of my mother's bedroom door opening.

"You're up," she greets me, a heartwarming smile plaster on her face. It was hard to be mad at her. Somehow I managed to pull it off.

"Morning," I mumble.

"I know you have questions and I have already given you enough time to cope with the truth."

"Here's a question. Did you know that Brandon was a part of the Three Rings?"

"Yes I knew exactly what he was doing," she admits sounding regretful.

"Yet you pretended you had no idea what your son was up to when the police came knocking."

"Jemi-"

"No, don't. You hid this whole other life away from me. I blamed him for dying. I hated him for so long," My voice cracked at the end. Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to fall. "What else are you hiding? There must be a million things that you're keeping from me."

"All to protect you even if you hate me and blame me for your brother's death," She says confidently not bothering to deny that she was still presently keeping things hidden. "I made a mistake involving Brandon, I didn't want to make that mistake again."

"Well, you did. I got kidnapped, drugged, and almost shot at all because my mother is a criminal and not just any criminal, a leader." I try my best to keep my tone low because, despite everything, she was still my mother.

"I'm not a criminal."

"Really? Oh, so what the T does isn't illegal in any way?"

"It's complicated."