Colorful Love

Unseen Fits

It's cold under the table. I haven't eaten in days. I crawl slowly towards the kitchen. Hunger clouds my judgement. I would usually deem it too dangerous, but hunger is a cloud, affecting your choices, changing your vision.

Bang.

"The world is grey, only the daughter can take that away," she chants in a raspy voice.

I get up. I've been expecting this, but it doesn't mean that I'm not scared. This has been happening often lately, and what kills me is that there's nothing that I can do about it.

"Mom," I plead. "Mom, please come back. Snap out of it, please."

I'm crying now. It takes a lot to make me cry. This is the longest fit that she's ever had. She's been destroying our belongings for days now.

"I'm not the enemy, Mom." I say, "Just listen to me, please."

She only replies, "The color of forever, restored in November." Once she finishes that statement, she collapses.

I heave a sigh of release. This fit has lasted for days. I haven't eaten or been to school since it started. I drag my mother over to the couch. I set her down gently. She looks so peaceful, like a normal mother should look. I brush her wavy hair out of her face. She used to be a beautiful woman, but years of stress has changed her. Her face has turned hollow, and her beautiful black hair is turning gray. She used to be beautiful, happy, and full of life. She hasn't been any of those since my father died.

Mothers are supposed to be the constant in your life. They're supposed to love you, and care for you, and comfort you. My mother is different. I love her, but I'm scared of her. I feel like our relationship is the other way around. Lately, I have been the one taking care of her.

I walk to the kitchen slowly, as to not wake my mother. I wouldn't want to start the whole process of calming her down all over again. I grab an apple and lie down on the chair directly across from the couch. I pick at the loose strings hanging from the frayed material, a habit I picked up from my father. My mother was always annoyed by this habit, but it's not like she's awake.

As I watch my mother's chest rise and fall with steady breaths, I decide that I might as well skip school today, too, to make sure that my mother is okay. I walk into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Ever since my father's death, I've been the primary caregiver of this house. I haven't gone to work or the store in a week, so all that's on the cupboard is spaghetti and oatmeal. I put a pot of water on the stove to boil.
I hear the soft noise of my mother stirring.

Ever since my father died, she's been getting these fits. She blanks out and talks in a weird voice. She terrorizes the house, and if she can reach me... Well, I have scars that prevent me from wearing tank tops.

I've wanted to turn her in to the UGN (United Grey Nations, our government here in Liphora), but I'm afraid. We'll be separated, and I'll be alone, if they even believe me.

"Kya?" my mother's weak voice calls out from the kitchen. "Did I pass out again?"

My mother believed that whenever she had a fit, she only passed out, and that I was the one who destroyed the home. She doesn't remember partaking in her fits at all, and that's what scares me.

"Hi mom. Are you feeling better?" I ask with fake cheeriness. I fake a smile, and she buys it.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," she says unconvincingly. She's trying to protect me from the truth. By lying to me. Even after all that we've been through together. Even though I'm the only one who knows the real truth. I know that her throat is sore, her whole body is tired, and she has a terrible headache.

I decide that it's best if she's left alone for a while.

"Bye mother! I'm heading to school now!" She doesn't need to know that school started two hours ago, and I haven't been to school for almost a week now. I'm starving, but I want my mother to get her rest, so I grab an apple and head out the door towards the fury of my teachers.