Extremity

21 | Robin

"Good morning, Robin."

It seems way too formal. It should be, "Morning, Robin!" or "Morning, sweetie!"

But instead, it's just, "Good morning, Robin."

There's my mother for ya.

"Morning," I reply simply, shooting a quick glance behind me. My mom's holding a mug of coffee, watching me carefully. It must look weird, after all, it's only 6 AM and I'm already up. I just don't find any joy or comfort in sleeping anymore. And to my surprise, breakfast is already prepared even though we're supposed to be in the main room at 8.

"Sleep well?"

"Well enough," I reply simply. My eyes are staring at the picture in front of me.

"Would you like some coffee? Hot chocolate? Tea?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"Very well. Have a seat, please."

She sits across from me at the table, her eyes watching me carefully. Does she think I'll try to run or attack her or something? That I'll have a seizure and flop on the ground like a fish? There's something odd about her, and I was worried that she'd take advantage of it before I could figure out what it was...

God, Robin, she's your mother. Calm down.

That's what bothered me the most.

"Your hoodie looks a little big on you," my mom says, sipping her coffee.

Hearing this, I protectively tug the hoodie closer to me. I don't give a damn if it's ten sizes bigger than me. All that matters is Damien gave it to me.

Better you than me.

Oh, Damien...

Not to mention it smells terrific. And it was exceptionally soft and warm. This had to be the best gift ever. If it even was a gift...

I suddenly remember that I need to reply to her statement. "Yeah," I say.

"That must be Damien's, am I right?" she raises an eyebrow in question.

"It is," I reply confidently. If she has sat me down to lecture me about relationships and teen pregnancies then she could go ahead and -

"If I remember correctly, you haven't seen him in a few months. It must have been nice to see him yesterday."

I'm not sure what she's getting at. "It was."

"You do know who he is, right, Robin?" her tone switches to curious to concerned.

"Of course I do," I snap. "If any, I know him better than anyone."

She holds up a hand in defense. "I understand. I'm sorry if I angered you."

She doesn't trust me.

"Robin, at the end of the day, I'm still your mother. Even though I brought you here to help you, that doesn't mean I can help you in other ways. By being the mother that you've needed for the past few years."

"You were never a mother to me," I spit out angrily. She looks shocked.  "I don't even know why you're surprised about it. You did nothing while Dad bossed me around and made all my decisions. You never did anything! You knew that I was scared and that I didn't want it but he just ignored me! You knew but you did nothing! Now look where we are!"

"Exactly!" she replies just as angrily, which makes me shocked. "Look where we are. Your father is dead. You have to be escorted by the police everywhere you go. You think I'm happy with this?"