I stop in the middle of randomly shoving cloths into my duffle bag when I hear the front door open, some muffled voices, and then close again. I head down the stairs to see my mom standing in front of the closed door, staring at it blankly. "mommy?" I call out hesitantly, a little freaked out by the way she was acting. "who was at the door" I continue, she doesn't budge at the sound of my voice, seemingly not hearing me at all. "mommy" I call out again, she doesn't move or acknowledge that she even heard my voice, and when I go to stand in front of her fear strikes my entire body.
She stands there staring through me as if I wasn't there, no emotion on her face. She resembled that of a lifeless doll. I blink a her, not knowing what to do, before opening the door to see if whoever was here, still is. I glance down our dive way and see the little shit face that called me a bitch on the first day, and a woman looking to be in her twenties, walking a bit down the block, and getting into a car while glancing around like some shady motherfuckers. I slam the door close and lock it, heart hammering into my ears, before tuning around and calling my mom. She still doesn't acknowledge me, not evening so much as blinking, and I start to freak out.
"mommy!" I shriek tears running down my face, completely hysterical at this point. I start shaking her shoulders but she still doesn't respond, only moving back and forth like a rag doll. "mommy please!!" I beg, full out sobbing and completely terrified at what these people had done to my mother. My trembling from clings to her, while sobbing and screaming at the top of my lungs "mommy" I sob, voice horse and thick with emotion. She still doesn't respond and I bury my face into her chest while still holding on to her shoulders.
"baby?" she questions, tone dripping with confusion. I look up at her, wide-eyed, relieved when I see that she was back to normal and no longer looked like a lifeless doll. Throwing my arms around her neck sinking to the ground, another round of sobs racks my body. "what's wrong baby, are you hurt?" she questions, as I cling to her and sob into her shoulder like a small child. "hush baby, it's alright. Don't cry" she says, comforting me, wrapping her arms around me and rocking me back and forth. "it's okay baby, it's okay" she hums, softly while running her hand over my hair; but it wasn't alright, she wasn't alright, this want alright, none of it was alright.
......
We had moved to the couch at some point, thought I really couldn't recall when, since I had been clinging to her like a baby koala and bawling my eyes out the entire time. I had fallen asleep at some point, and awoke to my mom's humming from the kitchen and the smell of food. I sit up on the couch not quite awake yet and glance around the living room with half closed eyes. It was around late afternoon now; I had slept for a long time. I let out a sigh before heading towards the kitchen "mommy" I call out when I arrive at the entrance, voice hoarse and dry, and just all around unappealing. She turns from the stove and looks me over, clear concern on her face.
"Why don't you go upstairs and shower while I finish the food" she commands softly. I stare at her for a few more seconds, trying reassure myself that she was fine, before doing as she says and heading up the stairs. When I arrive in my room I notice the duffel bag I had begun to pack earlier was nowhere in sight. A frown crosses my face as I glance around the room in confusion before yelling for my mom.
She steps into the room looking around for danger before laying her worried eyes on me. "what's wrong baby?" she questions, while stepping closers to me and running her hand over the left side of my face and hair. "where's my duffle bag?" she stops her menstruations and looks at me and then the spot it once was.
"oh that, I put it away, and all the clothes inside it while you were asleep. Why were you even packing it? You weren't trying to run away in protest again were you? Because the last time you did that, you didn't even leave the driveway" she informs me with a laugh, reminding me of the time I said I was running away when I was fourteen, because she tried to make me cut back on junk food. I had packed a bag of random stuff and sat out in the driveway for an hour before I got hungry and went back in the house. My mother stood at the doorway trying to hold back her laughter the entire time. Asking me "how my time out in the world was", when I had finally decided to go back inside. She could be a real sarcastic asshole when she wanted to be.
"what, no I wasn't trying to run away. I'm too old for that" protest, very offended she would think I was that childish. "she's too old to run away, but not too old to watch Pokémon" she mumbles mostly to herself, probably trying to figure out how I turned out so fucking weird. I ignore her, getting back to the more important problem at hand.
"I was packing it because you told me too. You said we were leaving" I explain, a little worried she couldn't remember something that happened a few hours ago. Especially something as important as leaving town. "no I didn't" she replies extremely confused. I stare at her wide-eyed "yes you did" I whisper back, feeling myself starting to freak out again. "no I did not Samantha" she states, completely serious; I step back from her; panic starting to enter my body again.
"honesty child, are you mixing dream with reality again? Like that time, you dreamt you were late for school, so you jumped up at four in the morning on a Saturday screaming for me to wake up because we were late" she deadpans, clearly not amused with me at the moment. "and why were you crying like that earlier? You really should stop watching those scary movies, especially if they give you nightmares. Do you know how much you scared me earlier?" she continues, starting what I know is going to be a long lecture. I tune her out for the most of it, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. I knew I probably had to drop it though, because If she couldn't remember, it would be like beating a dead horse.
The lecture is cut in half when I smell the rice burning downstairs and inform her of it, she goes to take care of it, not before ordering me to go shower. I strip off my cloths and head into the shower, my mind swimming with thoughts.
Why can't she remember? She's not old enough for her memory to start going. And why was she acting like that earlier? That was fucking terrifying. I think to myself, the scene of the emotionless, doll like, version of my mother playing in my mind, causing a shiver to go down my spine. My mind also wondering back to the two shady bitches I saw walking down the street earlier. I feel my anger spike when what was happening dawned on me.
"I know these goddam demon motherfuckers did not come into my house, and fuck with my mama" I seethe while glaring at the tile of my shower wall.
The more I thought about it the more pissed off I got; my anger directing itself at one person in particular, and I couldn't give a damn how attracted to him I was, nobody fucks with my mother.
0'W
YOU ARE READING
Antonius
WerewolfSamantha Hall is a lovable sarcastic asshole, with a serious case of resting bitch face. She moves from a large city to a small town and comes into contact with an entirely different world. Anthony Jung is the quit reserved Alpha of the Jung pack. H...
