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The house was quiet when Raven walked in.
Dad's probably not in, but still..
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that felt like.. it was waiting for something.
Unnerving. Filled with tense energy.
He dropped his bag by the door with a controlled wince, kicked off his shoes without thinking or bothering to untie them. His whole body ached—from the drill, the bruises, the panic attack still lingering beneath his skin like a second heartbeat, waiting to resurface.
“Mom?” he called softly, his voice already fraying.
No answer though. A slight frown escaped him.
Is she upstairs?
Please be in the house at least...
He found her in the living room, curled up on the couch beneath a mountain of blankets. The TV flickered silently, set to some old documentary she probably didn’t even realize was playing. Raven couldn't help letting a tired sigh escape from his lips.
His mother's heavy, shadowed doe eyes opened slowly at the sound and watched as he knelt beside her.
“Hey, baby,” she whispered, her voice worryingly thin. “You’re back early.”
He smiled softly—a small, tired thing that wouldn't fool anyone. “Coach let us out.”
She reached for his hand, and even that small gesture looked like it cost her. Her limbs were shaking, he could see, and from her pale skin, to her dry lips, to her dull, dim eyes and scratchy throat.. he wished he could just squeeze her to his chest and breathe health into her.
God, Mom. Please, just.. stop moving.
“You okay?” she asked, looking at him closely, her tired doe eyes narrowing. “You look pale.”
Raven shook his head, a small sad smile threatening to break free on his lips.
You're asking about me at a time like this?
“I’m fine.”
The lie was second nature now. It felt way easier to relay than the truth. And even if she noticed that wasn't true, she was too tired to argue.
He helped her sit up, adjusted her pillow, checked her temperature the way he’d done alongside his dad a hundred times.. Being the grown-up had become something he could easily do with just a flip of a switch.
The temperature though.. it was still too high.
“Did you eat today?” he asked.
She hesitated.
Oh, Mom..
He sighed, his head hung low for a second, before he spoke again. “I’ll make you soup.”
As he stood, the room spun. His knees wobbled. His vision failed him, his spine gripping him with pain. He subtly grabbed the edge of the couch for balance and hoped she didn’t see.
She did.
But she didn’t say anything.
Because she knew.
And because maybe, like him, she didn’t want to add weight to something already sinking.
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The soup simmered quietly in the kitchen. Raven sat at the table, head in his hands, elbows on the wood. By the looks of things, his father must've picked up an extra shift again—money was tight after all. And with him carrying the workload..
YOU ARE READING
‡† The Unseen †‡
General Fiction"Two boys. Two shadows. One chance to fix one another." _________________ "A friendship that goes beyond brotherhood. One that explains cries. And pain. And smiles. And silence." _________________ [Disclaimer: This is not a gay novel..] After deat...
