The Curiosities Concerning Fate

∷ Chapter 7 ∷

SEBASTIAN WAS EXHAUSTED. His car sat idle in the driveway of Rosewood Creek, a faraway look in his eyes as he stared at an unseeing point in front of him. It wasn't until a few good minutes had passed did he snap out of his momentary daze, moving almost robotically to retrieve his jacket and briefcase from the backseat.

His tie had been loosened, the first button undone as he trudged to the front porch. He was rummaging about for his keys when the door was thrown open, revealing his mother's small stature, a worried frown on her face.

"Where were you?" she asked, stepping aside to make room for him to enter before closing the door behind him.

"Mother," Sebastian greeted, the same lethargy lacing his tone in a sigh.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" he asked.

A perfunctory glance around his house confirmed that his mother had only just arrived—the perfect order of his things remaining untouched.

"Where were you?" she reiterated.

Sebastian made his way to his bedroom with his mother trailing behind him, awaiting his response. She watched as he put his briefcase aside and proceeded to return his jacket to its allocated spot in his closet between the two others of the same make.

He untied his shoes and pulled off his socks, fully aware of his mother's presence within the doorway of his room. It was clear she wasn't going to leave until her curiosity had been satiated.

"I was at work," he said.

He tossed his socks into the laundry basket, turning to find his mother still staring at him. He made no move to elaborate and she continued to keep her silence. The stagnation carried on until at long last she caved.

"Were you at that place?" she asked, her voice hoarse with unshed tears of frustration.

Sebastian needed no clarification. He knew exactly what she was referring to. After all, it was only the talk of Faith Hill that would send her spiralling into her maniacal tendencies.

"I work there," he said.

"How many times do I have to tell you—?"

"Mother," he interrupted with a frown that mirrored hers.

Caitlin Alrik flinched visibly upon hearing the tone in her son's voice. She clutched the fabric over her chest, her shaking hands turning a shade paler as she mumbled a weak apology beneath her breath. She lowered her gaze, eyes darting over nonexistent images flashing before her.

Sebastian walked over to her, his hands gripping her shoulders to keep her rooted to the present as he asked, "Have you taken your medication?"

Caitlin snapped her head in his direction, a scowl accompanying her wild eyes.

"I don't need it," she said, shaking her head. "I'm not crazy."

Sebastian was used to his mother's sudden outbursts. He remembered a time when he would panic: not knowing what to do, afraid that she would hurt herself.

But that was a time long gone. The scared little boy was all grown up, the effects of a tumultuous life hardening his heart and rendering him close to being as emotionless as was capable of a person. It didn't matter to him, this development. For what good were emotions if they would only hinder his path to revenge?

"Did someone call you crazy?" Sebastian asked, his voice taking on a softer tone to soothe her culminating fear.

"You did," she said with vehemence.