Strange isn't so much strange. Truth sometimes is a mountain on your heart. Maybe your whole life being a lie Isn't just a dialogue, because if something was never there, then it's a lie, isn't it?
My mother opened my door slightly, and looked inside. When a few seconds passed by just standing, she stepped inside. She stood there quietly inspecting and surveying my room. My guess is she was looking for drugs or adult magazines that the parenting book suggests teenagers have these days. That was until I heard her sniffle. My eyes flew wide open in shock, thank God I was lying on my side so she didn't see it.
It took me a few moments to register that my mother was crying. She seldom cried! She was still looking around the room, I could see it from the corner of my eye and she constantly kept wiping her palms on her pants. Do you know that clenched feeling when someone very close to you cries, like someone is squeezing your heart and tied your intestines into knots? Yeah, I was feeling the same. I couldn't stand her crying and hurt, all vulnerable.
She moved towards my dressing table, and I squeezed my eyes shut so that I could still be seen as fast asleep. I opened my right eye a fraction to monitor what was happening. My mother picked up my hairbrush and ran her fingers over it's teeth. A small smile tugged at her lips. It wasn't a happy one, but reminiscent. She then picked up my favourite pair of jeans thrown across the vanity chair, and rubbed the fabric on her wet cheek. What was she doing?
My mother has been going through my stuff for quiet some time now. And what's weird is that it feels oddly comforting and sad. My body feels numb. I open my eyes and she doesn't notice. I watch her pad across my room, touching my stuff, putting on my jewelry then smiling, smelling my clothes, hugging my toys and books to her chest and what not. Like she's trying to remember me, imprint me on her mind. On my shelf she finds a box with my birthday tapes, and after giving another long look to my room, she slowly exits and shuffle downstairs with the box in her hands. Moments later I hear the sound of my TV. She's watching the tapes.
Dad has been home for some time now. I figure that he's watching the tapes too since there's no other sound in the house. Around 1 am in the morning, when my parents are usually asleep, I got off my bed and went downstairs to the living room. As expected, my parents were sitting on the couch asleep and the TV was still turned on, playing the tapes. And I was bewildered that my parents were holding each other - My mother had her forehead on my father's chest, and his chin rested upon her head, and their arms encircled each other. It was a lovely sight to behold. I could see tear streaks on their faces. I pulled the blanket lying on the table over them. My mother sniffled once more and my father shifted. And just when I was about to turn away to switch off the TV my eyes caught a gleam, and something slipped from my mother's hand. I bent down to pick it up. It was my silver locket, the locket that was resting on my throat at this precise moment....
______________________________________ *Dun dun dun* CLIFFHANGER BWAHAHAHA! Hola amazies, it's great to see you all again. We're coming to the end, the next chapter is probably the last one. I'd like to thank you all for sticking with this story, and I love you all loads! I hope you all had a good time ❤ What do you think is gonna happen in the next chapter? Stay tuned, and keep the votes and comments rolling in 😉 The cover for this chapter is attached below:
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