searching for a fallen star

Chapter 9: Coldness in fire

"Mum?" 

I stay frozen on the spot, and whatever breath I was taking is lost in my lungs. The last time I saw my mum must have been some thirteen years ago, yet here she is after all this time, in bone and flesh, older, wearier, but as real as ever, rushing towards me, the skin about her eyes creased with age and worry. 

"Mum?" I utter again, and this time it comes out as a sort of a faint, wheezy whisper. And I think that maybe I'm talking too quietly because as she gets closer, I realise that her eyes aren't even focused on me. 

My eyes follow her and widen as she rushes right past me.

"Oh Ollie," she says, and it takes me a while to register those two words. My mind feels numb. My whole body feels numb. 

Ollie? Ollie? Here is my mother, after thirteen bloody years, and the first words that come out of her mouth are "Oh Ollie"? How does she even know Oliver? And Ollie? Really? 

I clench my fists. Part of me wants to yell at my mother for coming here, for raising my hopes up after all these years, and then so harshly dashing those hopes almost immediately; for making me think even for a second that perhaps, she was finally ready to be the mother I never had. The other part of me just wants to laugh - laugh at the irony of all this. The only time she ever displays motherly concern is on someone who's not even her child?

I feel my blood run cold. What if... 

What if Oliver is her child?

What if after all those years, she remarried... and Oliver is actually my half-brother?

Oh. My. God.

I force myself to take deep breaths. I'm getting ahead of myself over here. Who knows? I tell myself. Oliver might just be a... friend. Or a co-worker.

My mother turns to me, and wears something resembling a cold sneer, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who are you, the nurse?"

Before I can even open my mouth, she says, "No, can't be the nurse. Got no uniform on, lady." She stares at me with such ferocity that I'm surprised I don't feel a hole being burnt into my face. "Who are you?"

Finally I find my voice. "I think the better question is," I hear myself saying. "Who are you?"

She crosses her arms, scoffing. "Don't you mess around with me, bitch."

I feel my insides churn at that single word and it takes every bone in my body to stop myself from visibly flinching. Even though I haven't seen or even heard from my mother in all these years, even though she was never even been much of a mother to me, there's this pathetic part of me that just longs for her love... her approval? And hearing her call me a bitch, cuts me right down to the core. 

 But it's her next words that do the real damage. 

"I'm his mother." She jabs a finger towards Oliver.

My eyes flit to Oliver, then back to her, and all I want to do is wake up from this conversation that is slowly becoming a nightmare - except how can you wake up from a nightmare when you're already awake? 

When my eyes meet hers, I find myself pathetically look for some hint of recognition, any hint of recognition - maybe even just a flash of realisation? - but all I see is this cold, black, unexplainable hatred, like she's already found a reason to hate me even though we've barely exchanged two words. Oh wait... it's probably because I've just gave her a lot of attitude. 

"And you are?" she sneers.

Should just lie about my name? But there's no point. If she didn't even recognise my face, I highly doubt she will recognise my name.