Corrupted Innocence

Sometimes life's a funeral

Mayla stood in her room in front of the mirror in a black dress that went down to her knees. She wasn't sure what to do with her hazelnut locks that fell down her back to her waist. Her mother had liked her long, untamable hair open while her father called it messy and unkempt.

The small girl tilted her head slowly, watching her reflection in the mirror doing exactly the same. People had always said she looked a lot like her mother but had her father's eyes. Mayla used to agree but now it didn't feel appropriate to say anymore. Something was odd, wrong. It hit her suddenly: Her mother had always smiled with light in her eyes. Mayla frowned at her reflection, making a grimace.

Behind her in the mirror she could see the painting she had started days ago but couldn't finish, currently she couldn't finish anything. Seeing the painting left a bitter taste in her mouth. Her eyes studied the dark blue grounding and the black crows with red eyes surrounding the empty space in the middle. She couldn't explain what led her to paint it at all. It had been something that just happened like most of her art, a picture appeared in her head and didn't let her go until it was on the canvas but this time it was different. She didn't get the full picture this time, something was missing.

"Mayla! Be downstairs and ready to leave in 5 minutes!". Her father's voice disturbed the silence, the girl winced, instinctively turning her head to stare at the door, as if expecting someone to burst in from it. She lay her hand on her chest, feeling her increased heartbeat while she breathed deeply. For a minute she simply stood there letting her breath and heart synchronize.

One last look in the mirror and she took her small bag and phone. Now only her shoes were missing. But where did she put them?

"Shit", she sighed tiredly and looked around, searching for her black ballerinas. Maybe she had left them downstairs? Not really in the mood to run up and down the stairs, she checked her wardrobe and the floor again. Her mother would have known where she put them, her mother always knew where everything was. While Mayla was messy and lost everything. She groaned loudly and walked downstairs with her bag. Luckily she found the ballerinas in front of the door.

"Good, you are on time", her father growled. He was a head taller than his daughter, his hair was darker and in a short military cut. The lanky man walked past her to the door and left the house. Mayla stepped into her ballerinas but hesitated to follow him to the car for a moment. "You can do it, Mayla. It will be okay. Be strong", she whispered to herself, raised the head and walked out the door.

It was not okay. Nothing in the past eight days had been okay. On the way to the graveyard Mayla's thoughts were running. Nine days ago her mother had disappeared, she was there and in the next moment she suddenly wasn't. Five days ago the police had stood in front of their door the second time. Somehow it felt like she was still frozen in that moment when the officer had told her father that they had found her, dead. In that moment the world had stopped turning. Everything had gone numb.

She was not ready to see her mother being buried. Could you ever be ready for that?

Suddenly she stood still on her way to the church, her father kept walking but she couldn't. Another familiar feeling had caught her attention. The feeling wasn't familiar for long, but lately it had gotten common. She felt eyes on her, not the eyes of people who wondered why she stood only ten meters away from the church without moving, holding her breath unintentionally. No, that were the drilling eyes of a predator watching his prey. For at least two weeks it kept happening when she was outside. The only explanations that made sense to her were either that she lost her mind or whoever killed her mother wanted her as well.

This must be how a deer felt in the headlights of a car racing towards it on a dark highway, paralyzed and aware of the danger but unable to do anything to save itself, she thought. It would have been a scary, threatening feeling, if Mayla had still cared about what happened to her.

Even if she could, Mayla wouldn't run away, she wouldn't try escaping those headlights. They could come and kill her as they pleased. She couldn't care less. Actually a part of her even wanted them to take her.

If they took her she could ask them why they murdered her mother before dying or even though it was unlikely she could try to revenge her mother. But most importantly she wanted to understand what kind of human being would take the life of the best human being she ever met, the kindest and most generous person ever, a doctor who saved lives every day... What kind of monster would rob the world of such a person? Mayla burned to know the answer and almost more she wanted to spit into the murderers face.

"Mayla, what are you doing?!", the harsh voice of her father who stood at the door already, brought her back to reality. The girl flinched, she could still feel eyes on her back and turned around but no one was there to see as every time. She took a deep breath and followed her father into the church.

Her thoughts immediately went back to her mother when she walked over the doorstep of the church, it was cold and even though there were many people she had never felt so alone.

When she saw her mother there laying in the coffin, it hit her even worse than she had expected it. This was the last time she would see her. Tears formed in her eyes and flooded down her cheeks without hesitation. This wasn't right, she should not lay there breathless, without her strong kind heart beating. She would never see her mother smile again, never come down the stairs to the scent of fresh pancakes she baked, never get a wonderful warm hug from her, never talk to her again... How could this happen? How was it possible that her mother, the best person she ever knew had been kidnapped and murdered? Why would anyone do that?

Her vision was blurry, her thoughts were racing just like her heart and breath at a speed she could not take. This was not okay. She wanted to run, leave this funeral and erase the image of her mother in a coffin.

With all the strength she could find within herself she pressed her eyes shut and breathed in deeply. In thoughts she told herself: "You can take this, just stay strong a little longer. At home you can crumble and fall. But not now. You can do this", trying to calm her racing thoughts and control herself. Everything inside of her screamed to run but she could not do this, she couldn't, she had to stay and endure this even if it killed her inside. She owed it to her mother... And to her father who had lost the love of his life. Especially because it was her fault.