I Can Hear Your Voice

t w e n t y

June 16th.
7:03 p.m.

[Luka's POV]

It was just...there.

Just beyond my grasp, the thing that could make everything click...was there.

Beyond my reach.

I knew that if I remembered...I would not be fine. But I had to.

I noticed the ways everyone looked at me; they smiled knowing everything was fine. They smiled knowing that everything wasn't going to be fine.

It probably wasn't going to be.

I was doing something I've spent my whole life doing; reading Wattpad. Not even reading Drarry fics could make the ominous feeling in the pit of my stomach go away. I let out a frustrated sigh—it was hard being around people who weren't even good at pretending to be happy. It made it hard being around the others. I was sitting on Matteo's bed, head resting on the headrest while I scrolled down the story...it wasn't even any good.

Alarmed voices rang from downstairs, startling the quietness of the descending stars. Shocked by the warning in their voices, I made use of my unused Hybrid powers. I had to admit...I was surprised when Matteo had told me I was a hybrid, but not so much. I had a feeling had I already knew this.

I remember a lot of things. I remember the day I met Matteo. I remember having a really strange day the next day...lunch, I don't remember lunch that day, and I don't even know why lunch that day was important. I don't remember going home. I remember all the times I've spent with Matteo, of the times I've spent with his friends. I don't have any memories of going home at all, of being home. I remember that I practice kickboxing...but I don't remember ever going. I know I've gone though. Kickboxing classes are usually Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays from 4:00-6:00. Why do I know those things? Why is the source the only thing I don't remember? Dr. Iris said that all of the memories or things that have caused me harm are the things I don't remember. So then why is all that I remember is Matteo?

Those memories are dyed in fear and pain.

But it might be because, out of all the memories I have, there are the happiest I've ever been in my life.

I know that I had probably gotten worse after meeting Matteo. They're hiding something.

Something that made my mask tighter than it ever was before.

I've been pretending my whole life. I've been acting my entire life, so I'm the only one who understands my emotions more than anyone in the world.

Being able to smell, hear, and see really far is really only one of the basics of being a supernatural (except for witches). So I'm not that amazed at myself as I spread out my senses, trying to figure out what's alarmed the wolves downstairs and I smell...mom?

Mom?

At the thought of my mom, her familiar scent of coffee and gingerbread brought back a picture in my mind.

She was crying.

And I've never seen mom cry before.

I focused on the memory, trying to glean anything I could from it but I couldn't gather anything from it. There were voices, but there weren't, as if underwater everything I once knew was secrets. It was as if I was being bared by a glass wall, denying me my memories by placing a blank space there, as if taking out the saddest scenes from a movie and wondering what was missing.

I was watching my own movie, confused because the only scenes I don't remember are during the time I've been with Matteo.

Except for that one, black spot in the back of my head. A memory I try to conjure up as if on instinct. A memory that had probably plagued me every single day, because why would I be trying to remember something I don't remember? Trying to remember something during a time I don't know existed?

I jumped off my bed, racing down the warm brown stairs of Denis's and Bailey's house—it was beautiful. It was a large, golden brown cabin in the forest, no too deep because the town we lived in was also in the woods, albeit that most people lived in the busier part of town. It wasn't even one of those run down, countryside towns—it was relatively updated as new buildings and houses were being built and rebuilt as the economy grew (if you live as long as most supernaturals do, it's fairly easy to rack up in money over the years. They won't let themselves live in a run down secluded town isolated from society).

They were all in the living room, Matteo's parents not there to obviously check who's stepped onto their territory—but I wasn't quite sure why they were alarmed, by mom is only
half-vampire, not enough to cause alarm, right?

I ignored the look Matteo was giving me, telling me to stay there with them in the living room, and sped to the front door, slamming it open and slipping past Denis and Bailey, who shot me a confused look but kept their attention to the person in front of their house, my mom.

"Mom," I called out, confused when I noticed that the men behind me were startled. They had met her when I was hospitalized, right? Why don't they recognize her? "What...are you doing here?" I asked while studying her. She looks tired—no, exhausted. Her eyes were dull and monotonous as she looked at me sadly, stark bags under her eyes bringing down her pretty face. Her hair was frazzled and unkempt; clothes haphazardly put on as if on a rush—she looked completely unrecognizable. Every time I've seen her before, she was...prim, proper, clean, and...cold. But now, she looked at me with guilt, pools of endless guilt and I wasn't sure how to handle that.

"Uh...Luka—I...came here to see you. To see if you're okay..." she said, shifting nervously on both feet, her eyes hopeful as she looked at me.

"So then why haven't you ever taken the time to visit me before?" I said coldly; eyes narrowed as I looked at her. Her face fell at my tone, but her face paled after hearing my question. A weird feeling settled inside me as I watched as her eyes glazed over, eyes unfocusing as she stared in space. Fear clouded her eyes as she looked at something I couldn't see and worry overtook my skepticism for her. I walked, shortening the distance between us and putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Mom?"

She instantly snapped out of her daze, her eyes swimming with tears as she looked at me. She shot me a nervous forced smile and slipped from my grasp as she stumbled herself backward.

"Mom," I said, worry laced in my voice.

"Ah, uh—yes? Oh, I see your fine—I'm glad. I guess I'll just go, yeah? I'm fine, I'm fine." she stuttered, slowly backing away from me. Alarm flooded my veins as I watched my mom, who was usually so calm and composed break down in front of me.

"Mom." I pleaded, reaching for her hands before they slipped away again.

"I know, I know. I'll leave—just...take care, okay? Yeah? Yea—" she rambled on as her voice broke, not noticing the tears spilling down her cheeks before I suddenly pulled her into a hug, hugging her tightly around her shoulders. She froze, startled at my sudden action but she melted into my arms, breath shuddering as she hugged me back.

"Mom," I whispered. "I love you." she was silent before I heard quiet sobs in the crook of my neck.

I wasn't sure why, but I felt like I had to say this.

As if I had regretted it for a long time.