Gaurdian

Chapter 1

Silvia Harem-

I'd spent a lifetime staring at the pony chandelier that hung from my bedroom ceiling. Its pastel colors held an undeniable beauty, yet clashed with the gothic aesthetic I chose for my bedroom. Multiple times I've considered taking it down, but every time I've tried something stopped me. An unsettling breeze while the windows were closed. The sudden shake of my ladder. The misplacement of my screwdriver.

I couldn't take it down.

I huffed as I watched it dangle mockingly from my bed, the velvet comforter holding me back from another failed attempt. I turned my gaze away from it and attempted to focus on the more important topic at hand—my mother.

"I'm leaving town for a while, darling." She spoke at my doorway. Her gaze was fixated on her iPad in her hand, undoubtedly reading boring emails. "Ma'am?" I gestured for her to continue. After a few moments of silence as her eyes skid down her screen, the ghostly white orbs snapped to my contrasting brown ones.

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I hated when she did that.

"I've arranged some acquaintances of mine to stay with you while I'm gone." She finished off. I rose from my bed in disbelief. "I don't need a babysitter, mother." I scoffed. It was the truth. In a few weeks time I'd be eighteen years old— far past the age of needing a babysitter.

"I do not have time for your attitude, child. I must go pack, my flight is in a few hours." She turned, and the click of her heels sounded down the hall. Dread filled me in abundance.

"I'm about to be eighteen, an adult!" I shouted after her. I jumped from my bed, following her down the long, bare hallways and into her bedroom on the other side of the house. I watched from the doorway as she gently sat her device on her bedside table and made her way to her closet. After a long stretching silence as she ruffled through her clothing I scoffed. Her head snapped in my direction.

"You will enjoy the Asher's company. I'm sure of it dear." She spoke in her monotoned voice before throwing a black turtleneck onto her bed.

"The Ashers? What happened to the Vincents?" I questioned. It seemed that every time my mother left on one of her sudden business trips, I was left with new faces. The only reoccurring babysitter I've had was an old lady named Freida. When she died I was left with an ever changing assortment of strangers. My mother only sighed as she dug out her suitcase.

Her brows furrowed, and I could tell that this conversation would go nowhere. It was a constant struggle of being shut down before I could get my point across.

"Right, got it." I muttered and turned on my heels back to my own bedroom. My mom wasn't always like this. Part of me liked to think that we actually used to get along when I was younger. I don't know what changed but it's like the older I got the more distant she became. I entered my room, slammed the door, and made my way to my cd collection. I searched its contents for a moment before huffing in frustration and giving up. I needed new music. I needed to drown out my thoughts.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I decided to just take a bath instead.

I walked into my bathroom and twisted the knob allowing for water to begin filling the tub. I put my favorite soap as well as some dr teals Epsom salt. As it slowly filled, I turned my attention to the mirror. My dark skin was smooth and void of any blemishes. My sisterlocs were put into two long high ponytails. I took the rubber bands out, feeling the relief instantly as it fell just below my buttocks. My eyes were a dark chocolate and my nose was wide, complimenting my large, plum lips.

I stripped of my clothes and slowly lowered myself into the hot water. I'd considered storming back into my mother's bedroom after the bath, but ultimately brushed the thought to the side. When my mother made her mind up, there was no changing it. That didn't change the fact that I was a soon to be adult with little to no independence.

I'd never had a job, I couldn't drive, and above all things else I was homeschooled.

I was isolated and practically alone. I could feel the tears start to swell up and dunked my face in the water. I refused to cry. After a short moment I resurfaced. I leaned back until I felt the water flood my ears. I stared up at the ceiling contemplating my purpose.

A little over an hour later I was walking out of my bathroom with my bath towel wrapped securely around my body. Glancing over, I noticed that my door was now wide opened. All lights had been turned off but mine, leaving an empty void behind the frame. Shivering, I rushed over to shut it. I scowled at the thought of my mom snooping around in my things while I wasn't around.

I marched over to my closet and grabbed some underwear and clothes. I struggled to put my bra on, almost catching an arm cramp as I fought to clasp it together.

Just as I finished dressing a single knocked sounded upon my door. I stayed silent as I moved across my room, wondering over to one of my many bookshelves full of comic books. The door clicked open and I could feel my mother's piercing stare on the back of my head. I couldn't help but twitch underneath her gaze. So much for pretending she isn't here. Sighing, I turned around to face her.

Much to my surprise, she was no longer looking at me but at the chandelier. She seemed to be in deep thought as she absorbed its image. An unreadable expression lay on her face. "Mother." I addressed her, snapping her out of her trance. She turned her gaze to me and examined me for a moment.

She shook her head and looked at me in the eye, her white orbs holding no emotion. "My flight is in two hours. I made dinner."  She walked out of the room. After a moment, I decided to follow her since it had been a while since we'd eaten together.

Minutes later I found myself sitting patiently at the kitchen island waiting for my plate. My mother stood at the stove. Her long sister locs fell to her calf as she stirred whatever was in the pot. The large light was off, the only light source coming from the small light over the stove. It's orange hue brought along a sense of comfort as my mother suddenly began to hum.

The sound bought about a strange feeling in my chest as it began to circulate through the room. Contentment.

Dinner seemed to be the only time my mother could tolerate me. It was the only time I saw her almost happy. She began to sway, her hair flowing in a slow but smooth motion. She pranced over to a cabinet, grabbing a black, glass bowl. She set it in front of me and soon came back with the pot, pouring gumbo into it. The aroma filled my nose and I could feel myself almost drool.

I found myself forgetting of all of my concerns from earlier today as I began to engulf the savory broth that contained shrimp and sausages. The song my mother continued to hum had been a lullaby for me growing up. I'd been five years old and absolutely terrified to sleep in my room alone, claiming that there were monsters coming for me. I'd hoped that she'd allow me to sleep with her but instead she carried me to bed and began to hum the sweet melody, effortlessly luring me to sleep.

It took me a while to notice that she'd taken her own place in front of me with a smaller bowl. Her ghost like eyes watched me with uncertainty as the humming slowly came to a halt. In an instant it felt as if the tense atmosphere began to build once again. I tried my best to ignore it and just focus on the flavor melting in my mouth.

After an eternity of silence, my mother spoke. This time, her voice was smooth and held a small vibration as she talked. "What do you say we go visit your grandmother for your birthday?" I looked up in shock. I hadn't seen my grandmother in almost three years because my mother had claimed that it would be a hassle traveling with me so far away.

"Yes, I suppose that would be nice." I mumbled as I searched her face for an ulterior motive.

"Alright, it's settled. We'll talk more about it when I get back. I'll only be gone for two weeks so I'll be back in time for your birthday. No need to try and plan around it." With that she stood from the stool and dumped the rest of her mostly untouched food. Without another word she exited the kitchen, no doubtably preparing to head out.