[Blood Diary Entry]
Mother looked at me for a split second, and an unreadable expression marred her face.
She ruffled my hair and walked past me.
I made my way to the sofa, aiming to catch a wink before 'dinner'. Though, unfortunately for me, thoughts kept rushing by.
At a distance, I could hear the cacophony of pots, ladles, and whatever else Mom decided to use today.
We were already late at night, not at all the time for an eight-year-old to be awake, but this has been my routine for the longest time.
We spent the night awake, and we would sleep when the sun came out. More than once, I joked about it with mom, saying she was so into her occult research that she was trying to turn into a creature of the night by living in it. She would merely chuckle and brush me off.
Recently, though, she has been acting kinda off…
Ever since my birthday—June 15, 2000.
A supposed joyous occasion for our family. Yet the day was all kinds of awkward. More than once, I thought I saw shadows blur past me, glowing eyes staring straight at me, and when I mentioned this to my mother, she just went pale and shut down for the rest of the day.
Worst birthday ever.
Two weeks have passed since then, and my mother still keeps acting weird around me. Like she is walking on eggshells.
I tried talking to her multiple times, but she always says, 'I'm imagining it'.
It gets more frustrating by the day.
Then there was that whole absurd conversation in Ms. Thorne's bookstore.
I'm worried about her, I fear she has read so much of that junk she is starting to believe in it…
I kept staring at the ceiling fan. Hypnotized by its monotonous spin.
"Darian Salvatore! Are you listening to me?" Mom shouted from the kitchen.
"What?" Damn, 'seems I was too far off into the clouds, again. Oh joy! I am going to get scolded for being an airhead again. But that is absolutely false! I am just introspective…
"Again, Darian? Seriously?" She shouted incredulously. "Haven't we talked about this before? You can't keep getting stuck inside your own head, it's not healthy."
"It's your fault this time!" I stormed my way to the kitchen. I did my utmost to step as hard as I could to announce my dissatisfaction. I stared her straight in the eye.
"Huh?!" She seemed surprised by my sudden intensity.
"Yeah! You, Ms. Thorne, and Safia were all talking in code again."
She didn't answer this time.
"Mom… you've been acting strange since my birthday." I hesitated. "Did I do something wrong? Is there something I can do to fix it? Anything?" I almost screamed, because punishment or chores were easier on my heart than this estrangement. "I don't like the way things have been recently…"
Mother and I have always been kinda close, after all, we only had each other, so it was only natural.
Her eyes softened, and tears threatened to spill.
"You've always been too mature for your own good, haven't you?" She kneeled to reach my height, so we were both at eye level. "My little boy… so smart, so perceptive," her voice trembled, on the verge of breaking into sobs. "You've done nothing wrong, dear. It's just that mommy wants to protect you for just a little longer."
I looked at her, I mean, I really looked.
She seemed older than I remembered, with dark eye bags beneath her mesmerizing blue eyes. Sheer stress consumed her. And I wasn't helping; in fact, I only made it worse. She seemed on the verge of breaking.
"Will you let me? Will you let mommy protect her treasure, just a little longer?"
"Protect me from what, Mom? I don't want you to get hurt… I want to help—if I can."
She smiled lovingly.
"It's an ugly world, my son. Much more than you and your overly mature and intelligent head could possibly imagine."
I saw her eyes, and in them, I only found determination. The determination to keep me safe, no matter what. She wasn't going to budge on this.
"Fine… I won't ask anymore." I said, barely holding a few sobs in. "But promise me you won't get hurt. Promise we'll go back to how things were before my birthday."
Her eyes widened in surprise. She seemed to get thousands of different meanings behind my words.
She nodded her head. Weight visibly leaving her shoulders. She felt lighter than I've seen her in a while.
"I promise. My little knight."
I chuckled.
"That's right! Mom keeps me safe, and I keep Mom safe."
She smiled a bright and relieved smile.
"Yeah, you do…" She got up from the floor. "Now let's go eat before the food gets cold."
"Sure!"
We sat at an old table, its wooden surface marked by various wounds. Burn marks from culinary mistakes my mom made when she was just learning her way around the kitchen, scratches of my mischievousness, and the relentless march of time.
My legs dangled freely, in a childish way, as I inhaled the food Mom prepared.
I felt lighter after finally getting results from speaking with my mother. They weren't the ones I was looking for, but they were better than nothing, so I was still satisfied.
After we finished eating, I went to the kitchen to help Mom with the dishes.
When that was done, too, we sat on the couch, my head resting against her lap. I kept throwing sheepish glances towards my mother, visibly embarrassed by what I wished to ask.
She seemed to notice, given her rude and very blunt question…
"What do you want now, little imp?"
"Ah… It's not like that… It's just-" I kept fumbling about my words.
"Out with it!" She sent me a playful, annoyed, and stern stare.
"Well… I wanted you to tuck me in…"
She blinked, surprised by the simple request. Maybe she expected me to keep questioning her about what was making her so unsettled. I knew better than to push her when she planted her feet like she did just now.
It was a childish request. But I am still a child, mature though I may be. I don't like other people treating me like a clueless child, but Mom's fine. She's the only one who gets to see this side of me.
Call me spoiled, I don't care, I am a spoiled mamma's boy.
She obliged my request, and happily so.
I closed my eyes, wondering what tomorrow would bring.
Not knowing the childhood I was desperately clinging to would be brutally ripped away from me.