Deceived

Chapter 8

Note: CHAPTER NOT EDITED.

I pushed the plate of half-eaten sandwich away from me. The nervous knot in my stomach made it nearly impossible to swallow another bite of the turkey and cheese. The knot tightened the more I thought about what mom would say when I tell her about today, particularly the part about a monster and an angel.

An hour ago I was anxious to tell her what I'd been through mere hours ago, but now I wasn't so sure. What if she thought I was going crazy or suffering from depression? I know she's my mother and she had the right to know why I came home looking all banged up, but was it a good idea? I mean, telling her could mean having to visit a shrink every week for the rest of my life if she didn't believe me. Was I prepared for that? And about my mate - if I could even call him that - what would she think about that mess?

I looked at the birthday cake on the counter top, my face printed in cursive on it; Happy birthday was written in pink icing. The picture was one mom had taken when the north side of the house was rebuilt after it caught fire a few years ago and was burnt flat to the ground. I was sitting on the newly painted swing by the side of the house when she took it, a huge smile on my face, a paint brush in one hand, I looked the happy sixteen year old.
That swing became my favourite spot ever since. Probably because I painted it. Whenever I needed to take some air and let off steam I always wondered out to that wooden-chair swing painted in blue.

I wish I could go out there now but that wasn't a good idea; my mother needed answers. If her stern gaze was anything to go by, she needed them now. Besides, even if I was let off the hook, the wind was howling strongly outside, and after being in the cold and wet for half of the night, I wasn't so eager to get back into it anytime soon.

"Start talking, and let's begin with why you bought liquor using my name."

"How did you know about that?" It didn't take a second for realization to dawn on me, "Mrs. Jackson. " I hung my head with a sigh.

Of course.

"Yes, she called the moment you purchased that bottle of vodka. She also told me you've been rude to her. What did you think, that I wasn't going to find out?" She levelled her penetrating gaze at me with her arms folded across her chest, "And you came home all muddied and bruised and with alcohol on your breath? What were you thinking?"

"It was gin and I only just bought it, I - I didn't spike it with any wolfs bane I swear. "

"It doesn't matter what it was, it was still alcohol. " she paused for a few seconds trying to read my expression, "So you can tell me truthfully that you had no intention, whatsoever, of spiking that alcohol?" The reproachful look on her face was enough to have me hang my head in shame. She was likely trying to decide if I was worth her trust at the moment.

I looked down at my hands, not wanting to see the disappointment on her face. She was right, I was going to spike that gin with wolfs bane. I thought It was a good idea. . .
And even now, I still think it's a good idea despite being scolded for thinking about getting drunk.

"And why was it on your breath, huh? Why did you drink it if it wasn't spiked? What was the point?"

"Honest to the goddesses it wasn't -"

"What if you had gotten drunk and passed out somewhere?"

Oh no, she had started with 'what if', now I would never get a word in.

"I - "

"Who knows what could've happened to you. And disrespecting an elder...? Hema, that is not like you,"

"Mom I wasn't going to drink on the road I was waiting until I came home, and about Mrs. Jackson, I wa - "

"That's besides the point," she cut me off, her hands flaying about, exaggerating, "what if you had spiked that gin with too much wolfs bane, huh? Do you know what could have happened to you? "