Ashes In The Snow

Shattered Glass

I walked.

I walked until it was dark. Until stars peeked out of the thick veil of fog; the moon was barely visible, let alone the stars. Traffic lights were blinking as large cars zoomed past, followed by rows of tanks. I kept myself hidden in the shadows.

My lips were dry even after I licked them. I was unconsciously trying to ignore the people cleaning up the streets and washing away the ruin. Rubbing and scratching at the dried blood on the wall. There was still a tint of bright crimson on the middle of white brick wall though, it stood out like a bleeding scar. Even if they really did manage to rub everything off, it wouldn't make a difference. Would it?

The moment I realised that it was already late at night, I rushed back home. My sneakers making squeaky noises on the disgustingly clean pavement. The chilly wind blew against my face, messing up my dark hair and stinging my eyes.

A sudden pang of fear hit me. When I was busy thinking for the whole day. I totally forgot about Mum. That thought made me run even faster. I managed to quickened my pace considerably.

How could I just run off like that. Especially when a mother just lost her son. Left in the house where he was snatched away. Alone and grieving. 

I practically flew through that corridor stapled with posters. Pushing the gate open with full force, ran into the lobby, grabbed the banister then rushed up three stairs at a time. The only thing I heard was the creaky floorboards and my heartbeat that was quickening by the second.

When I reached my apartment. The door was hanging open; much like the day when everything started to crumble down. The light was turned on; a warm yellow light strewn and intertwined with the dark hallway. Only barely lighting up the darkness.

I placed my hand on the cool surface of the door and opened it further. Feeling a rush of warmth as I came in contact with the light.

What I saw was not what I have been expecting.

The dining table was placed the right side up and the shards of the shattered living room vase were gone. The white wallpaper was replaced with a nice yellow one with patterns of sunflowers; The floorboards were glossed over, shiny like it was brand new. No sign of struggle was spotted. Everything was in its place. The ones that were no longer of use were thrown away.

I walked over to my brother's room. His wheelchair was gone, the wallpaper was changed as well. His room was packed with boxes. I read the sign : "Disposal of unwanted". Everything in there were my brother's belongings. His clothes, his baby books, his tele-tubby toy. I rummaged through his things until I heard the tap in the kitchen turn on. The sound of water prickled my ears.

I stood up and walked over, ready to face a broken-down mother. But when I opened the kitchen door, Mum was humming and cleaning dishes as if nothing ever happened.

She turned around when she heard me come in. "Now you decide to come back!" She scolded rather playfully, "you hungry, honey?" she smiled and hummed a familiar tune.

Something was definitely wrong.

I stood there gaping at her as if she lost her mind. "Mum, what happened?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" She tilted her head and looked around for a moment. Then her face lit up, "Ah, of course! I gave this house a much needed makeover. It needed it as much as I did."

I can't believe it.

"Mum, what happened?" I repeated with force.

"Nothing much, darling." she replied. "I've had quite a hectic day, but nothing seems out of the ordinary."

I shook my head vigorously. "Did you forget what happened, Mum? Did you forget all that has happened?" My face was beginning to heat up. 

She looked away and turned her back to me "I do not understand what you're saying, sweetie." she said softly and continued washing the plates. The water cleansing the already white and sparkling clean surface. She was washing it the whole time I entered.

"Mum! Look at me!" I yelled in frustration and grabbed her shoulder. She stopped washing. The plate made contact to the bottom of the sink with a loud clink. The water was still running, the water hitting the metal bottom of the sink created a low grumbling sound that slowly drilled into my ears. Her whole posture slumped. I saw drops of tears roll down into the pool of water gathered below. She turned off the tap and slowly straightened up. Then shakily placed the plate into the drying rack.

It was the only one there. A single plate sat still alone. The others were nowhere to be seen. Until I spotted flashes of broken porcelain in the bin hidden in the corner.

"You know how difficult it is? Trying to forget?" She asked while rubbing at her tears, "Your brother was precious to me, even though he wasn't perfect. Your father was the love of my life, he was everything I could've wanted." She paused. "Now they're both gone, Luna. They are both gone"

She can't forget. I won't allow her to.

"What about Adam? He will survive in the war, he will come back." I spoke, " what about all the great times we had together and all the happy moments? You can't forget." I sighed in exasperation, "If you forget, they would truly be gone."

She hit her hand against the sink. Silencing me.

She was shaking and sobbing uncontrollably.

"But they aren't here. And they would never be..." she whispered, her voice strained. She ran her fingers through her blonde hair. "They will never come back to us..."

"But you can't give up! Mum-"

"They will never come back!" she yelled at me. Finally snapping.

I clenched my fist and screamed in pure frustration. My head was spinning. I had to get out. Grabbing my backpack, I headed out to god knows where.

Little did I know, this runaway from home would change everything.