duh • tim drake

( prologue )

Start writing your story. . .

Michelle Normen tested positive for Huntington's disease. The disease affects the brain and there's no cure for it. Michelle may have had the disease, but she was grateful Lily, her daughter, didn't. Huntington's disease is an inherited disease but Lily tested negative.

Lily didn't like the idea of her mother dying. I mean, who would? Lily spent days and weeks trying to come to terms with the fate of her mother. Still, she had to make preparations for the funeral even when her mother was still breathing. Though it was the only thing that kept her busy during these stressful hours. Or days. Or weeks. Or maybe even months.

It really just depends on how long Michelle holds onto life.

Michelle shifted in her bed, waking up from her nap. Her eyes landed on her daughter, who was writing on the laptop she had brought with her.

"Lily. . ." Her voice was weak, hardly over a whisper. There wasn't any other noise besides the beeping of the monitors and the sound of Lily typing away on her laptop. However, the typing stopped as Lily turn her full attention to her dying mother.

"Yeah, mom?"

"I need. . . to tell you. . . something."

Lilly let her head hang. She had been warned by multiple people that her mother would say shit when she was on taking multiple types of medicine. "Mom, whatever you say, it's not going to change anything."

"No, no, no. It's about your father."

"Another story, mom?"

"Lily. He's still alive." Lily stared at her mother with both shock and uncertainty. She could be hallucinating because of the many medicines. Scratching it off as such, Lily shook her head with a slight smile.

"It's just the drugs, mom."

"No, no. He's alive. And I want you to meet him."

"Mom, again, it's the drugs." Lily looked her mother in the eye, seeing that she was tired, but looked like she hoping for something. "Dad isn't alive. You told me so yourself. He died in a war, remember?"

"I lied."

Lily considered it for a moment. Maybe she'll humor her for a bit. "What do you mean you lied?"

"Your father didn't die. I just couldn't live with him doing the crimes he did. And still does. I didn't want you to have to deal with that growing up."

"What kind of things does he do?"

"He would rob banks, museums, and the rich." Michelle let out a breath. "He even killed. Many people."

If it is true, Lily wished long and hard that it isn't. She let out a breath, trying to relax from the anxiety rising inside her chest. Thoughts also flooded her already overloaded brain. From her school work, to her job, and to her mother's disease. Also from all the sympathy from friends and the doctors. Yes, she understood why everyone feels remorseful toward her and her mom, but sometimes it can become too overbearing.

"Why did he do it?"

"He had this illusion of another version of himself. He thought that that version was better in every way. I thought I could convince him otherwise. . . but I couldn't. First, it was petty crimes." Michelle shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks in slow streaks. "Then he started taking bigger risks, and began to murder people who would belittle him."

Lily's eyes are dry, void of any emotion. With the exception of curiosity swimming in her core.

"You left him. Because of me?" Michelle nodded, her eyes closing as she let the tears stream down faster.