The Witch's Toy ✔

17: confession on the train

I watched my mother as she slept peacefully, face clear of any worried wrinkles and breaths even and rhythmic. After what she'd been through, I didn't really expect her to be the very embodiment of calm, but seeing her like this still surprised me a little.

The last time I saw her, she looked as if she was about to pitch over with the number of things that were weighing her down. In fact, most of my memories of her were darker ones — ones that were filled with pale and sallow faces on days without sun. After thinking about all of this, I almost felt guilty, the idea of me waking her from her unconscious state making me bite my bottom lip nervously.

Raphael glanced at me, a small smirk curling the corners of his lips. "Having second thoughts, darling?" He teased.

"No." I sighed, shaking my head. The ends of my long locks brushed against my lower back. "I can't start softening up on someone who doesn't deserve it."

"And to think that she is your mother..." Raphael shrugged when I shot him an unsuppressed glare. "Well, you are one to judge quickly."

I closed my eyes momentarily, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind my ear. After waiting for my mother and holding onto the hope that she would come back for years, I'd already given up on her. My heart squeezed a bit, telling me it wasn't exactly easy to accept this, but I forced myself to believe that this was my only option. To distance myself away from her like she wanted. "That's true," I admitted, "but that still doesn't change the way I feel towards my own mother."

"I didn't expect it to, darling."

"Alright." I leaned forward, hands wrinkling the blanket that covered my mother's body. "Let's get this over with."

Nodding, Raphael held one hand over my mother's head, the expression on his face unsympathetic.

After a few moments, I saw my mother stir, forehead scrunching as her brows came together. Then she abruptly sat straight up, sucking in a large breath of air. Her eyes were wide open, fear and pain laced through them.

My heart leaped up to my throat.

She turned, unblinking, to where Raphael and I stood. Her eyes widened even more as she caught sight of me in her vision. "Yu Rui?" She glanced at Raphael, then back to me and then around her surroundings, taking in the scene of her old bedroom. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something else, but it closed shut as shock seeped into her.

I looked away first, trying to clear myself of every distraction before speaking. My eyes traced the embroidered pattern on my mother's blanket. "Let's pretend this isn't our first meeting in five years, okay? Just push it all to the side, because that's not what's important right now. And all the questions you might have about Raphael can wait." Swallowing, I looked at her. "You're here because a ghost possessed you and used you to get to me. For some reason, it wanted Raphael for its master or mistress of some sort. All I want to know is the last thing you remember — where you were, what you were doing, and at what time you last remember it last being."

She must have been used to abrupt meetings and surprises because it didn't take long for her to actually regain herself. Letting out a breath of air, she averted her eyes, unable to look at me. If she felt any remorse from fragmenting our relationship, she didn't show it. There was only a glimpse of wariness in her eyes — that look that told me she was tired — that inside, she'd already given up a long time ago anyway. "I can't say for sure, but I'm almost certain it was night. I was watching over a young child who was possessed by a ghost." This seemed to trigger her and I clenched my jaw, feeling involuntary shivers run down my spine. My mother put her head in her hands, shoulders tensing. "I'd tried everything I knew, but I still couldn't cast the spirit from her body."