Forlot: The Mom Who Lives Next Door - Book Twelve

Chapter Forty-Five

She was admitting the truth to me. She was the true murderer, not Kira, and the evidence was in the black suitcase. So I should have believed her and reacted in a way that was anything but thrilled.

Guess what? I burst out laughing.

I leaned back on the bench and held my stomach. At first, I did not believe her story. I assumed that it was some joke or that she did not want to tick off Kira and Dad. Also...I was in denial.

Can you blame me? Who would want to have a parent who has a split personality disorder and be split apart by a scientist in order to be two or more completely different people? And who would want one of the personalities to have the brain of a mentally ill patient that looked like that individual whom you love with all your heart?

Welcome to my life.

"Jackson?" Mom said. "Why are you laughing?"

I could not reply to her because I was laughing so hard. I forced myself to stop with the laughs and glanced at her with the face of compassion.

"Why else would I be laughing?" I finally said a sentence. "Your joke was hilarious!"

"Joke? What joke?"

"Come on, Mom. You know what I am referring to. When you joked that you dressed up as Kira. See?" I picked up the clothes. "Did you steal these from Kira? Wait a minute. Who am I kidding? You would never steal. You are too good of a person to do that."

"Jackson..."

I did not allow her to state her case, probably because I did not hear her, and continued.

"We need to take these clothes to the police in the next town. And the knife. We have to make sure that Killer Kira gets locked up for her crimes."

"Jackson!"

I heard her that time and immediately shut my mouth. "Mom...?"

Never in my life had my own mother shouted at me. Okay, she has shouted to me, but that was only when we were not in the same room. Here, not only were we in the same room, but we were next to each other!

Mom snatched the clothes from my grasps and stuffed them and the wig back into her suitcase. She then pulled out a white cloth and picked up the bloody knife. She began wiping the blood off.

"I hope that this blood will come off my knife," Mom muttered.

"Your knife?" I said. "No, Mom. That is not yours. It is Kira's."

"Jackson. It is time to stop denying the inevitable and accept the fact..." Her voice trailed off, and she stayed silent for a few seconds before asking, "Did your father and Kira tell you about the situation?"

"Situation? What situation? Wait. Is Kira going to jail? Is she seriously going to jail?"

"No. Nobody is going to jail. However, somebody in the family is going somewhere. Going away for what could be forever."

I let out a low groan as I rubbed my stomach that was now aching a little. "M-Mom...you are scaring me."

"Sorry, honey. I am not trying to scare you." She finished cleaning the knife and stuffed it and the cloth back in. "I am preparing you."

"What? What are you preparing me for?"

"For when I depart from Forlot."

"Yeah. About that, Mom, I was wondering—"

She cut me off. "You and Amy cannot come with me."

I was in a bit of a shock that she "read my mind" and said, "What? Why not?"

My mom shut her suitcase and latched it. She rested her hands on top of it and closed her eyes. I noticed that she was breathing heavily.

"This is no game, Jackson. Your mother...I...Kira and I...she has a split personality disorder. It is when two or more personalities exist in the same body. Anyway, Kira was Donna. She is your real mother. The woman who taught and showed you kindness. Unfortunately, reality came crashing down on her when I entered the picture. Whenever she murdered an innocent being, that was not really her. That was me."

She grabbed the suitcase's handle and climbed to her feet.

"Kira and your father could not take it anymore. So they went to see a specialist who could get rid of me. They ran into a man named Dr. Maxwell, and he offered separating Kira and I. It worked perfectly - but I escaped."

She gently took my wrist and helped me to my feet.

"I was in hiding, and it was torture for me. 'Cause although...although that I was insane and doing naughty deeds, I...I loved you and Amy. I still do. I...I promised myself that I would keep it together. I did not want you to see me...killing."

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, and she let go of my wrist.

"But I...could not handle it. I thirst for killings. Blood. I will spare you how many times I have tasted the redness of blood, but...I cannot stay here. I need help. I need therapy. Tons of therapy. And possibly surgery if it turns out that there is a problem with my brain that makes me this way."

Before I had a chance to respond, Mom hugged me tightly. I could hear her crying softly and sniffing.

"I am doing this for you...my son. I promise that I will be the mother that you deserve when I return." She kissed my forehead. "By the way, I put the knife in Kira's purse to throw me off track." She pulled away from me and started to go.

I chased her and grabbed her wrist. "What will I do without you?"

She did not look at me and just said, "What could you do if I stabbed you and Amy to death in the restroom?"

Mom jerked free and ran, disappearing into the crowd.