Purple is the Face of Death

CHAPTER 4: MOTHER AND CHILD

Mom's asleep.

I tried to wake her up, yet— maybe she was tired after she fixed our window with a big, grayish tape. I saw how she closed her fist and banged it many times. She tackled it with her shoulders, didn't budge.

And mom did it! Our window is now as strong as a sturdy tree. She even teased me to hit it hard with a metal rod. The windows that she repaired are strong...like her!

It is my entire fault. I complained lately as I watch Jora and Goals.

I really tried to control it, yet my nose really cried. I blame my neighbors. I hate what they're cooking right now. It really made my nose pout, not favoring its aroma.

I asked Mom, what was that, she just gave me that look while patting my shoulder.

"Mr. Chambers loves to cook rats." She laughed, placing me on her lap.

"If Mr. Chambers is cooking, I am sure, it is not fresh," I groaned. "For six days, they've been cooking nothing but rats?"

Mom chuckled a bit, while making THAT hand gesture.

"Maybe he realized that rats do taste like chicken." Mom carried me on the sofa, then went to the wooden utilities cabined located under our stairs.

I stood up and tip-toed my way, I want to see what Mom is doing.

Just like what Mom narrated, like Narnia, I was so excited to see what's inside that cabinet.

Peals of joy turned to disappointment; stacks of that grayish tape, a rusty claw hammer placed at the corner. My eyes darted directly on a gleaming knife that was being placed at the top of my clothes. All but adult's kit.

"Hope, I told you not to peek?"

I slowly turned back, heading to the blue bulky sofa to where she placed me.

"I'm sorr—"

I wanted to explain, yet Mom and got interrupted when heard a loud, echoing sound, made our head turned towards the partly-opened— like a banging, followed by a crying from an old guy...

"That's Mr—"

Then another set of a deep groan and shrieking, followed by a horrendous boom. The loudest noise silenced the entire compound.

I somehow managed to take a look from the outside; I saw some of my neighbors, from Mr. Harris. Madame Chen, Rufus, Benedict— even Alyssa and her Pomeranian Dutchess— all, lying on the ground, doing something weird— all shrieking, groaning and kicking and punching the air!

"Hope! Go to your room, quick!" Mom ordered me, pointing her finger to the stairs.

I followed her, yet on the last step, I looked at Mom, I noticed that her hands flung wildly as her arms and shoulder— screeched repetitively on the wall then slammed badly on our concrete floor!

"Mom!"

With the little yet reckless step I rushed towards her, noticing how her lips turned blue, frothed. I hugged Mom, yet her body convulse while her arms in a desperate move of shoving off from her. Eyes brimmed with tears as it violently rolled and nearly escaped from her face.

I covered my ears as the choir of scary sound resonated inside and out of our room, to the whole compound. My lips trembled as I witness this. I want to ask Mom yet the way I saw her now really scared and hid myself under the dusty sofa. I ignored the dust and cobweb that covered my dirt-struck face, and tried to hold my breath and the wild beating of my chest. I felt the pain crreping from my chest and head. I really don't want, yet I feel hot throughout my body. My eyes started to shake badly— the pain— made even myself sprawled on the dusty place.