The Whispers

Chapter 4

April 25, 2019 2:35 P.M.

6.
     That's how many people had been killed by the Extinguishers since they had barged into the city. Joshua had been the fourth, and the youngest.
     Dad had returned later that evening to find me cocooned in mothers arm on the dining room floor, exhausted and with tear stains running down my face.     
     Needless to say, my former imprisonment was reinstated.
     No bother. It gave me ample time to wallow, fume, and plot.
     If life had taught me anything, it was that self-pity accomplished nothing. I could hate myself for all eternity for my inability to save Joshua - for the cursed fear that rendered me useless - but why not do something about it instead? Now. I could make sure his death was not in vain. I could make it, no, I would make it right. I had to.
     That's exactly what I told my mother, more or less along those lines, well after dad had left for work.
     I expected her to laugh in my face, to tell me that heroism was best left in between the pages I loved so much, but what she gave me was much worse. It was a look. Her features were soft as she gazed down at me, full of pity.
     I hated it.
     She took a step towards me. I took one back without thinking, "Don't." It was a whisper that held an edge I didn't intend, but it was said nonetheless.
     She stopped, shock coloring her face for an instant before she hid it.   
     "Esperanza," her tone was soothing in the way only a mothers could be. "I understand that you're feeling guilty for what happened. Maybe even partly responsible for-"
     I flinched and she moved on quickly.    
     She sighed as she said, "But mija, what could you possibly do?"
     The words were like a cold bucket of water in the face. Wether she was targeting my lack of experience as a teen, or as a Flame survivor, I didn't know. Probably both when it came to mother. She's right, a traitorous part of me consented, but I'll never let her know that.
     Not when a gunshot and crimson blood haunted my dreams. Not when I had to do this for Joshua as much as for myself. Not when the memories urged me towards something greater than myself.
     I gritted my teeth as I said, voice like steel, "There's everything I could do. I'm a pretty smart girl-" A small smile escaped as I said "-I'll think of something."
     She tsk'd. "Don't be arrogant." Her tone was growing darker now, my rebellion wasn't something she was used to.
     "It's not arrogance," I shot back. "It's a promise. I will do something. Anything is better than wasting away in here," I yelled, turning to gesture at the walls. The paint was beginning to peel in several spots.
     "Don't you dare, Esperanza," she hissed. "You know very well this is for your own protection."
     I stilled as she approached. Her steps were determined as she continued, "Where would you be without us, hm? Without this house you so eloquently deign a prison?" She spit the last word.
     I opened my mouth to contradict the last point but she filled the room with her voice before I could. "Oh, don't act as if you don't think it. It's all over your face."
     I closed my mouth.
     She stopped in front of me now, no more than a foot separating us. She glared down at me, but I refused to be talked down to like a child. I sent my own glare right back up towards her. "Allow me to tell you exactly where you'd be," she said.
     She began walking in a slow circle around me, her high voice doused in smugness as she said, "You would be out on the streets. Maybe one of the alley girls," her eyes shot back to me, "maybe not."
     I inhaled sharply.
     "Either way," she drawled, "your inexperience would be your doom." She was in my face now, her voice dripping venom as she whispered, "The Extinguishers would catch you in a heartbeat and shoot you dead in less. No one would be there to save you, let alone remember the girl without a name."
     I snapped. "Stop it!" I yelled. How dare she? How dare she say these things to me. I've been her docile little daughter since the Flame and this is how she treats me? Now, when innocents are dying in the streets and I might be able to do something she asks me - no, she threatens me - to duck and hide? No. There's not a chance in hell I'll stay put for another second longer.   
     "Stop talking!" I yelled again.
     I turned my face, readying myself for the slap I was no doubt about to receive. I paused when nothing came, not even a fiery retort. Looking up I gaped. My mother was still in front of me but she was now furiously biting her lip shut. Her eyes still held their rage, but there was confusion there too. That wild gaze landed on me and widened in shock - no, fear.
     "Mom?" I whispered, moving to grasp her shoulders. She shrunk back and I did the same. What's she doing?   
     She was still biting her lip, blood was starting to dribble down her chin.
     I ran to her, "Mom!" But for every step I made toward her, she took two back, until eventually she hit her back into the couch and we stood in the living room. We studied each other in silence, gauging the others next move. Suddenly, she was yelling, well, what could hardly be called yelling - more of a fierce mumble really - was emanating from between the sealed lips she continued to gnaw.
     "Mom!" I yelled again, my worry skyrocketing. "What are you doing? Say something!"
     I jumped back when she opened her mouth wide, gasping. She fell to the floor, spitting out blood. When she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth she winced, her hand smeared red. I stared at it.
     "How dare you?" She seethed. It took a moment for me to realize her venom was directed at me.
     "Mom, please, just tell me what's wrong."
     "Don't touch me!" She screamed. I flinched as she scooted into the shelter of the hallway. "My daughter," she spat, once shrouded in the dark, "is no whisper."
     I paled. No.
     "She would never do this. Not my Esperanza." Her body shook as she cried, "Not to me."
     Something inside me cracked. Why? Why was she saying these things to me? I was no whisper, how could I be? All I'd done was - the horrifying realization crashed over me, threatening to consume me.
     Stop talking!
     I'd said that, and she'd done it. Mother never listened to anyone, least of all me.
     I took a tentative step forward. "Mom?" My voice betrayed the heartache inside me, "I'm so sorry. I never meant -"
     She stiffened as I neared. "Don't."
     I didn't listen. As I came closer she shot me a look. Her eyes said it all before she even uttered a word. They regarded me as if I were a stranger. A threat. Me, her own daughter - her only daughter now. "Don't come any closer."
The words were final.
     It severed something between us but I didn't dare think on it too long, lest I break right now. Numb. I was numb - it was better than feeling. I didn't know what to do.
     But my body did. My feet carried me out the door and soon I was running from blood I'd turned on.