The World's Aftermath [ON MAJOR EDIT]

Chapter 10 [Cleo]

I pry myself to sit still. Ignoring the car's bumpy trails as the powerful wind covers the dark chill of the crescent moon once again. It makes me look away from the previous moments that's been holding me down.

It's been six hours since it all happened. I was blindfolded, locked up with nothing but four walls and a roof around me. It was horrifying, I was dangerously close to getting fined, prisoned, or perhaps worse. But it gives me at least something valuable. Those agents didn't want me to see, not even a thing there, and somehow that didn't scare me. Now I know one rumor about them is true. It's a miracle, I've found out of something I never thought I would, the excitement in my body will boil even hotter when I find out the real deal they've been hiding...

Shivering, I leave that last thought alone, letting fly away from time to time. If I'm going to know more about who the agents really are, this isn't the time. I won't be celebrating anything until things will get better–if things get better.

The car stops into a deep grumbling noise, the trees looks more alive now that it creates it's own silhouette in the mist. It still kills me that the branches couldn't carry anymore leaves, colorful ones especially.

Mom has her keys, and they're clicking and jingling as she leaves the grip of the steer, now slamming the one door of this car shut. She hasn't said a word. She came to get me home and she hasn't said a word. But now we're home.

Our footsteps made sounds shattering the silence of the night. "I know what you're thinking ," I walk away from the car, speaking but letting my throat hurts, "It was fine, then suddenly they were there."

She unlocks the front door, her back facing me, it is then that I realize none of our lights are on. She wasn't home yet when things happened.

"Get inside," she says. I do what she says, my throat clawing itself harder, no word can come out and it isn't right.

Once the house lights itself up and warms our tiptoes and finger nails, I go straight to the kitchen, making a cup of tea to heal the itchiness of my throat and the rest it.

"I had to leave Eric behind," Mom says, taking off her coat, "He was in the room with the rest of 'em, I didn't see him, I couldn't. He won't be home tomorrow."

I stir the cup slowly, it's hot and liquid texture makes an aroma like one of those rainy mornings where everything is alright as long as you have a good cup of tea. "It wasn't my fault–"

"It's not? I know. I knew that's what you'd say," she tilts her head, the thing that she does when she's about to raise her voice.

"He's going to be okay," I lock my eyes to hers, determined.

Her uniform has crinkles as always until the next day, we stay silent the whole night, just listening to the rhythm of soft wind and me taking tiny sips of tea and sometimes humming distracts us from troubled thoughts. I'm also trying to calculate the timing of what things were done today, especially the ones that can't be undone.

When those men came in marching to me and Eric, I didn't know they'd handcuff both of us, plus, almost tried to beat me up entirely. I also never had the thought that mom would get involved so easily, anyone honestly.

My bedroom looks just like how I left it, something feels neater, but maybe that's just a feeling. I lay down, another clicking and jingling of keys are there, continuously with rustling air. I smell more horrifying than anything else in this house, but when my eyes are already halfway there, to sleep and forget stuff, there's no such thing as leaving this bed. 

The door creaks open, "You alright?"

"Yeah, I guess," I bite my lower lip, closing my eyes so I won't see her. Or she won't. I'm not sure which one Im trying to do.

"Listen," she starts, "If you want to talk, just talk."

Something feels uneasy about this shaky bed, the window that could give the view of broken branches and the road is closed but I can still sense the chill from somewhere. I won't be answering mom for a while. Maybe if things didn't have to happen today, if I didn't have to wait for Eric to come home so we'd have each other's back–like all bodyguards are suppose to be like with each other–there'd be less nutshells in my throat I'd have to crack; because now, it itches more. Even when I still don't want to answer her.

"This isn't your fault," she whispers softly. "I just wanted to let you know, you shouldn't worry about yourself or me... we're okay for now," a pause, then a slow exhale of her breath, "It's just Eric. He'll be there for a few days, he's fine the last time I saw him, but anything can happen. With money or locked up, I don't know which one's worse."

"What was it like," I turn to face her, it's unnecessary but I want to let her know that this question needs an answer, "To talk to them?"

"You know I'm not supposed–"

"Please," I beg, pressing my lips together.

She's not too hesitant as I can tell from the excitement growing in her pupils. Mom knows exactly what I'm thinking, that this is dangerous, no one should know about this. It's exactly why I keep wanting to drag some answers right back to me.

Mom moves closer, she sits on the tiny chair of my desk. I do the same as I sit up on my bed, my two ears are going to listen so shouldn't be anymore hiding away. "Here's the thing–" She says, predictably.

"I know the rules," I say, stopping her for a second.

A hilarious frown forms in her face as I try to hold my laughter from it, "Stop interrupting me," She orders, raising an eyebrow.

"They're just how you expect them to be," she continues, "The talk can take forever with them but they make sure no one leaves until they're clean so not even one'll know where their place is or, anything, anything that has to do with them. It's that simple, nothing much."

"It is," I mutter, imagining what it would've been like if I hadn't been unconscious. The sweet leafy tongue warmer of the tea is the only thing I can still taste.

Those are the last words I could hear from her tonight, we know nothing's better than ending it with a good night sleep. I haven't told mom about school, or those untouched report cards, that's only the worst of it. As I begin the dreaming, things are blurry, like always, that's completely fine, I never liked blood and screams in my sleep. They often happen but not for this past week. I like to think back to the crescent moon, sharp on the edges but also shining like no one else can do better, and no one really can.

-—-

Heyyy! Wait, how long has it been since we've seen each other in a new chapter, months?! Wow, time is so unstoppable...

Anyways, this is a pretty short chapter, but the one I really enjoyed writing, and just to give u A LITTLE HINT... It might be one of the important ones too!

Finals week is over and I'm done with textbooks and presentations and stuff like that in school, I'm really excited but man, the tension of my friends leaving is really hard to face ;_;

Are you guys almost done with school? Honestly tell me anything, in the comments or you can message me, and yeah... I guess that's it, don't forget to VOTE!

Love y'all! Bye for now 🎀