Sight

Nine.

With a trembling body, my expression probably whited over, I walked down the stairs, feeling as though my knees were going to buckle, like I was going to tumble and whirl down to my death that was the bottom of the stairs.

"Maria!" My mother yelled once more,

"Coming." I whispered to myself, I don't even care if she heard me right now, all I can think about was that vague note, all I could think about is how maybe I wasn't ever alone, all those times when I thought I was alone in my room, just watching myself unravel, maybe there was something haunting me, something watching over me, like a dark entity latched onto my back, or worse, someone.

I finally reached the end of the stairs, walked across the dark area which was partially lit from both the kitchen and living room. A mix of a dim golden perpetrating from the living room and a pale white from the kitchen, it felt as though I was being pulled between two worlds, one being the white glow that took me to light, and the other dimming, rich golden which felt as though it were fading and fading and would soon go out like a wavering flame of a slowly melting candle.

I felt like that candle.

I took a deep breath, shaking my hands and throwing my hair over my shoulders, composure Maria, maintain your composure.

I walked into the kitchen, a wide smile spread across my face, like butter across bread.

"Hey honey! Here are your eggs and bacon." Mom absentmindedly kept the plate on the counter and another next to mine for Trevor. She didn't look up, the entire time she just worked around the kitchen, as though a body just floating around a mere space it was bound to. I felt bad for my mother sometimes, I really did. She never had time to just, breathe.

"I'm not really feeling it mom, I feel a little sick, I think I'm just going to go to bed." Mom chuckled, "Honey, you just woke up." She looked up then and it felt like her light brown eyes darkened, her face pulled together, her perfectly plucked and arched eyebrows causing a crease on her faintly wrinkled forehead.

"Are you alright, honey?" She walked around the counter and walked toward me, her eyes drawing me in, but I wanted to be let go.

I looked away, "I'm fine." I snapped, not meaning to sound angry, but I did.

Mom stops mid-step. Her face flashing with hurt, but she recovered and masked it quickly, with a blank, expressionless face, "Talk to me, don't shut me out." her tone soft, but her face meaningless, as though she was mustering and using all her strength to hold back her tears, she did a better job than I did.

"I don't want to talk." I'm sorry mom.

"Just, leave me alone." I don't mean to be this way.

"I'm just tired, can I please leave?" I love you mom, but I don't think I'm alright.

My mother just nodded, her head hardly moving, but it was enough for me to walk out of the room, I stomped back to the stairs and that was when I was met with my father coming down them.

"Hey hon, no breakfast?" I could see his face, masked heavily with doubt and worry, "Not hungry." I responded, adding a shrug and a smile.

Dad nodded skeptically, and walked down the stairs, I moved out of the way. I smelled his cologne and it hit me with memories so strong it felt like two weeks were decades, so much has happened since my birthday, I don't understand.

I manoeuvre my way around him and jog up the stairs, my head pounding with every step. I need help, I need help, and one person came to mind.