Happy Box

Mother

Eight hours flew by when she was right next to him. He never imagined he would make a friend on his first day of school.

The teacher dismissed them, and the students swarmed out of the classroom, into the open arms of their parents.

He couldn't find his mother anywhere. His head spun left and right, but all he could see was happy parents talking to happy children. He wandered further, stumbling a bit because his heart was beating a little too fast for his feet to keep up.

There she was, his mother, hanging back to avoid the crowd. Her face was solemn. She tried her best to smile at her child. He ran up to his mother and threw his arms around her, hoping that his laughter could help her overcome the worries and concerns. She didn't hug back.

They walked home in silence.

Once the front door opened, he rushed into his room to avoid angering his mother. He knew something was up.

There was no homework, so he stared out the window and started daydreaming. Something caught his eye.

It was the girl. She held her father's hand tightly, skipping down the street without a care in the world. They stopped in front of the house next to his, unlocked the door and went in.

All this time, he had no idea she lived right next to him. All this time, he could have had a friend. All this time, he could have been happy.

When he returned to his senses from his daydream, he noticed the clatter going on in the kitchen. Dinner must be ready soon, as he could smell the faint aroma of steak. Steak means today must be a special day.

"Dinner's ready! Come at once!" his mother yelled up the stairs.

He practically tumbled down the stairs and took his seat at the table. There was indeed steak, cut into bite size pieces, because he was "too young to be dealing with knives". The only knife he was allowed to touch was a plastic blade to cut clay with. But maybe someday his mother will let him use knives. He watched intently as his mother sawed through her steak.

Dinner was silent. Meals have usually been quiet ever since his father left, but this is different. This was a deadly silence. His cold, almost unforgiving mother had been deprived of what little love she had.

He prodded the vegetables with his fork. He had lost his appetite. The silence was unbearable. He jammed the vegetables into his mouth and retreated to the safety of his room.

He resumed staring out the window.

The lights of her house were on. Shadows passed by the windows. Happy shadows. Isn't it curious how one can tell the mood of others just by looking at the movement of their shadows? A smaller shadow was sitting at a window of the second floor, bent over her desk. He smiled to himself. What was she sketching this time?

"We should get a dog," he twirled his hair, something he always did when in deep thought. He could try talking to his mother about it. But maybe not today, she was troubled by other things.

He heard the flick of a light switch and the corridor was in darkness. He should probably sleep.

It was about midnight when he awoke from a semi-nightmare. He couldn't exactly recall what happened, he just knew something scared him.

He slowly eased open the door, as to not startle his mother, and snuck across the corridor. He was extremely careful to step on the edges of the floorboards so they wouldn't creak. Mother's room was empty. This was strange.

There was a strange flickering from downstairs. Soft murmuring echoes in his ears. He was starting to worry as he crept down the stairs and into the living room.

There was some sort of horse racing show on television. That explained the lights and sound. And there was his mother, slumped over the table, with a straw clenched in her right hand. She appeared to be asleep.

A box lay open next to her head. It must be her happy box. It was made of plastic, extremely waterproof. Inside was some sort of yellow, frothing liquid.

The box was almost empty.