Post by Shiki on Jan 13, 2012 21:08:47 GMT -5
I turn the page in my book, keeping my mind on the story unfolding in the text. It’s better than listening to the almost-silent atmosphere of the house. Almost-silent as in Mom’s got the day off from work and is home cleaning and what not. I really don’t care what she’s doing as long as we can avoid each other. She had a fit earlier in the week, which means that in order to keep her from lashing out again so soon I have to stay away. Not like I actually want to see her anyway.
The sound of plates moving downstairs tells me she’s in the kitchen. Hopefully she won’t be up here for a while. Wait, was she humming? My ears catch the quiet melody and I lift my head, taking my eyes from the pages. Mom never hums. I’ve only ever heard her scream and cry or talk with others in a normal conversation. She always works in silence too. I get up from where I’ve been sitting, my bed, and move to the door. Slowly, I open it so it won’t make any noise and listen. Yeah, she’s humming alright. But it’s different…it sounds…eerie.
Maybe she’s finally losing it completely.
Whatever’s up with her, I just shrug to myself and close the door. I return to where I had left off in the book without another thought about Mom. It’s not my problem if she’s acting different. Time goes by without my noticing as I read chapter after chapter and fall deeper into the tale. Eventually I hear Mom coming up the stairs, still humming. I continue my reading, even as she comes into my room to put away the laundry. I don’t bother to address her; she’ll be out once she’s finished. The tune still goes on and I barely listen, easily blocking it out.
But I do notice when it abruptly stops.
I blink but don’t look up, listening to the sudden silence. Mom’s back is to me, that I’m sure of. Since it’s so quiet I assume she’s not moving and facing my closet still. I have to bite my lip to keep from smirking. Has she finally noticed I’m here or something? Has my presence scared her again? If it has, then I can expect her to start screaming at me any moment now. I go back to reading and ignore her. If I do that then she probably will leave me alone quicker.
“You were supposed to be mine.”
The words catch my attention and I look up at Mom. She’s looking at me, actually looking at me without as much disgust. It’s still there though; I can see it clear as day. Her voice interests me the most. The way she had said it sounded wistful, longing for something she couldn’t have. I stare at her, and she stares back at me. “You were supposed to be my daughter…my little girl…” I sigh and close the book, setting it off to the side of my bed. I cross my legs and put my hands in my lap, “Are you really going to start this again already, mother?”
She doesn’t yell at me like I expected. Instead she…takes a step closer to me. Then another…and another…until finally she’s in front of me. I stare at her, completely surprised. She hasn’t been this close to me since I learned to take care of myself without her help. “My child…my daughter…you could have been lovely…” Reaching out, she takes a piece of my hair, curls it around her finger. “How can you share my face…?”
That I know isn’t exaggerated. I share the same long, red hair as her. Our eyes are almost identical, with hers being darker. I hate looking like her. She continues to wrap that piece of hair around her finger as she studies my face. The look in her eyes is for the daughter she wishes I was…whoever that is. As always, I don’t understand what turned her against me.
“I could’ve had so much happiness, so much delight. But I was punished…with this burden…” Her voice turns darker and her expression takes on the hating look I’ve grown used to, “Such a waste of a child.” She pulls hard on the hair that she has wrapped around in her hand. I’m surprised it’s still attached to my head, even as I lurch down with it. Never has she resulted to physical abuse.
Anger rushes through me without stopping to calm. She lets me go and walks to my window and looks out while I fix a glare at her, “You’ve put your father and me through so much pain. I never thought a child could cause so many problems.” Mom turns to me, “Then again, I’m not talking to a child.”
I know what she’s going to say next and finish it for her, “Let me guess; I’m a monster.” She smirked, “I was going to say demon. But that works too. Do you even care, Shiki? Do you care that we’ve suffered?” I don’t get a chance to reply, but Mom answers with the truth, “No, you don’t.”
I raise an eyebrow with a curious smile, “Since when did you get a grip on yourself enough to talk to me? Actually, why are you doing this exactly?” The red haired witch moved from the window and in front of me again, “I want to tell you what I think and make sure you understand something.” She reaches her hand out as if she wanted to grab me and for me to look at her. I do something next that I never thought I would.
I slap her hand away, feeling the sting on my skin as I come in contact with her own. She snatches her hand away and stumbles back from me and I know it must have hurt. I’m glad it did, and I stare back at her with cold eyes. Mom’s mouth etches into a twisted smile, as if she’s won something. “His eyes look like that too…I always knew you were like him.”
I never wonder who ‘him’ is. I don’t care. “I hate you.” I tell her this often, and she grins manically. Mom looks down at me, “Just like him...all you can ever feel is hate. Your heart is corrupt and it has been since the day you were born. The creature that you are can never feel any good emotion.”
“Sounds like you.” I respond, even though I'm sure she's thinking out loud, and she only darkens her look. I grin, “Thank yourself for teaching me.” I sure wasn’t going to thank her.
“He will only darken your soul to true hate and envy. The day is so close…then you’ll be gone.” She’s talking more to herself, but still watching at me. Then she shakes her head and stares at me with an intensity that makes me know she wants me to listen, “Don’t you ever try to get close to anyone. All you cause is pain. All you do is hurt. No one can ever love someone with a heart as cold as yours, and you will never understand what it means to care for anyone in the slightest. Save everyone the grief and leave them alone.”
I say nothing, looking at her with a coldness that I can tell is getting to her.
Does she really have to tell me what I already know?
Yet I understand, somewhat of why she’s standing here and repeating her words to me. She wants me to hear it without the screaming, to know she’s serious. I have no idea what she’s talking about, I doubt I’ll ever be allowed out of the house until I’m twenty. But her tone, her approach to me…it isn’t like anything she’s done before. She’s waiting-no expecting something to happen, but who knows what. As I stare I can see her expression waver.
She’s scared.
“That’s it? No screaming, no falling to your knees in a pool of tears? Heh, how disappointing. I guess you’re finally growing up.” Instead of responding she gives me an insane smile and walks to the door. Looking over her shoulder she says simply, “Very soon…my little monster.” Then the door is shut and she’s walking down the hall. For a moment I am quiet.
Then I start to laugh.
It’s bitter and dark, not one of happiness of all.
She amuses me sometimes, repeating what I’ve known for years and accepted easily over time. I don't need anymore convincing. I fall back onto my bed, still laughing. Does she really think I have anything to care for? Anything at all? Do I even have the will to? I stop laughing and curl up on the mattress and close my eyes.
No. I don’t.
I will never care for anything.
My heart is too dead for any caring emotion.
And truly…
I like it that way.
And there you have some more depressing Shiki and her mother. Her mother's actually sane in this one, more or less. Anyway, Shiki's twelve at this point and her mom's becoming more sane now that she knows her daughter will be gone soon. Hope you enjoy!
The sound of plates moving downstairs tells me she’s in the kitchen. Hopefully she won’t be up here for a while. Wait, was she humming? My ears catch the quiet melody and I lift my head, taking my eyes from the pages. Mom never hums. I’ve only ever heard her scream and cry or talk with others in a normal conversation. She always works in silence too. I get up from where I’ve been sitting, my bed, and move to the door. Slowly, I open it so it won’t make any noise and listen. Yeah, she’s humming alright. But it’s different…it sounds…eerie.
Maybe she’s finally losing it completely.
Whatever’s up with her, I just shrug to myself and close the door. I return to where I had left off in the book without another thought about Mom. It’s not my problem if she’s acting different. Time goes by without my noticing as I read chapter after chapter and fall deeper into the tale. Eventually I hear Mom coming up the stairs, still humming. I continue my reading, even as she comes into my room to put away the laundry. I don’t bother to address her; she’ll be out once she’s finished. The tune still goes on and I barely listen, easily blocking it out.
But I do notice when it abruptly stops.
I blink but don’t look up, listening to the sudden silence. Mom’s back is to me, that I’m sure of. Since it’s so quiet I assume she’s not moving and facing my closet still. I have to bite my lip to keep from smirking. Has she finally noticed I’m here or something? Has my presence scared her again? If it has, then I can expect her to start screaming at me any moment now. I go back to reading and ignore her. If I do that then she probably will leave me alone quicker.
“You were supposed to be mine.”
The words catch my attention and I look up at Mom. She’s looking at me, actually looking at me without as much disgust. It’s still there though; I can see it clear as day. Her voice interests me the most. The way she had said it sounded wistful, longing for something she couldn’t have. I stare at her, and she stares back at me. “You were supposed to be my daughter…my little girl…” I sigh and close the book, setting it off to the side of my bed. I cross my legs and put my hands in my lap, “Are you really going to start this again already, mother?”
She doesn’t yell at me like I expected. Instead she…takes a step closer to me. Then another…and another…until finally she’s in front of me. I stare at her, completely surprised. She hasn’t been this close to me since I learned to take care of myself without her help. “My child…my daughter…you could have been lovely…” Reaching out, she takes a piece of my hair, curls it around her finger. “How can you share my face…?”
That I know isn’t exaggerated. I share the same long, red hair as her. Our eyes are almost identical, with hers being darker. I hate looking like her. She continues to wrap that piece of hair around her finger as she studies my face. The look in her eyes is for the daughter she wishes I was…whoever that is. As always, I don’t understand what turned her against me.
“I could’ve had so much happiness, so much delight. But I was punished…with this burden…” Her voice turns darker and her expression takes on the hating look I’ve grown used to, “Such a waste of a child.” She pulls hard on the hair that she has wrapped around in her hand. I’m surprised it’s still attached to my head, even as I lurch down with it. Never has she resulted to physical abuse.
Anger rushes through me without stopping to calm. She lets me go and walks to my window and looks out while I fix a glare at her, “You’ve put your father and me through so much pain. I never thought a child could cause so many problems.” Mom turns to me, “Then again, I’m not talking to a child.”
I know what she’s going to say next and finish it for her, “Let me guess; I’m a monster.” She smirked, “I was going to say demon. But that works too. Do you even care, Shiki? Do you care that we’ve suffered?” I don’t get a chance to reply, but Mom answers with the truth, “No, you don’t.”
I raise an eyebrow with a curious smile, “Since when did you get a grip on yourself enough to talk to me? Actually, why are you doing this exactly?” The red haired witch moved from the window and in front of me again, “I want to tell you what I think and make sure you understand something.” She reaches her hand out as if she wanted to grab me and for me to look at her. I do something next that I never thought I would.
I slap her hand away, feeling the sting on my skin as I come in contact with her own. She snatches her hand away and stumbles back from me and I know it must have hurt. I’m glad it did, and I stare back at her with cold eyes. Mom’s mouth etches into a twisted smile, as if she’s won something. “His eyes look like that too…I always knew you were like him.”
I never wonder who ‘him’ is. I don’t care. “I hate you.” I tell her this often, and she grins manically. Mom looks down at me, “Just like him...all you can ever feel is hate. Your heart is corrupt and it has been since the day you were born. The creature that you are can never feel any good emotion.”
“Sounds like you.” I respond, even though I'm sure she's thinking out loud, and she only darkens her look. I grin, “Thank yourself for teaching me.” I sure wasn’t going to thank her.
“He will only darken your soul to true hate and envy. The day is so close…then you’ll be gone.” She’s talking more to herself, but still watching at me. Then she shakes her head and stares at me with an intensity that makes me know she wants me to listen, “Don’t you ever try to get close to anyone. All you cause is pain. All you do is hurt. No one can ever love someone with a heart as cold as yours, and you will never understand what it means to care for anyone in the slightest. Save everyone the grief and leave them alone.”
I say nothing, looking at her with a coldness that I can tell is getting to her.
Does she really have to tell me what I already know?
Yet I understand, somewhat of why she’s standing here and repeating her words to me. She wants me to hear it without the screaming, to know she’s serious. I have no idea what she’s talking about, I doubt I’ll ever be allowed out of the house until I’m twenty. But her tone, her approach to me…it isn’t like anything she’s done before. She’s waiting-no expecting something to happen, but who knows what. As I stare I can see her expression waver.
She’s scared.
“That’s it? No screaming, no falling to your knees in a pool of tears? Heh, how disappointing. I guess you’re finally growing up.” Instead of responding she gives me an insane smile and walks to the door. Looking over her shoulder she says simply, “Very soon…my little monster.” Then the door is shut and she’s walking down the hall. For a moment I am quiet.
Then I start to laugh.
It’s bitter and dark, not one of happiness of all.
She amuses me sometimes, repeating what I’ve known for years and accepted easily over time. I don't need anymore convincing. I fall back onto my bed, still laughing. Does she really think I have anything to care for? Anything at all? Do I even have the will to? I stop laughing and curl up on the mattress and close my eyes.
No. I don’t.
I will never care for anything.
My heart is too dead for any caring emotion.
And truly…
I like it that way.
And there you have some more depressing Shiki and her mother. Her mother's actually sane in this one, more or less. Anyway, Shiki's twelve at this point and her mom's becoming more sane now that she knows her daughter will be gone soon. Hope you enjoy!
