Culling

Part I • Chapter III

Last night I happened to be home during one of her lucid periods.

I had planned on having a relaxing evening of being left alone, and had even contemplated taking a long bath as a self-congratulatory treat. On the way home from my secret spot I had checked one of my traps to find a rabbit. We hadn't had meat for a while, and I was proud of myself for making a nice stew for my and Maro's birthday.

When I went to give her dinner, she was still asleep and did not stir when I called. So I left her bowl on her bedside table, like always. It was worse if you woke her up, after all.

I was restless the rest of the evening, the news that PI had told me put me on edge. So I busied myself by doing random chores. Then, around midnight, while I was cleaning up a mess outside from my dinner preparations, I heard my name being called.

"Sang!"

I cringed. Oh no.

"Sang, where are you?"

The voice shook with a type of deranged fury that promised pain. Of course it would be my luck that she would not be in a happy lucid period.

I entered to find my mother sitting up on her bed and the bowl on the floor across the room. In between the bed and the bowl were bits and pieces of stew scattered across the floor. "What is wrong with you, you stupid girl? How dare you feed me this garbage? It's cold. It's inedible."

"It was warm when I put there." I spoke in a small voice, trying not to anger her but feeling a bit defensive as well. "I just didn't want to wake you up."

Her face turned a bright red as she took a deep breath. I knew an explosion of epic proportions was forthcoming, but then the sound of the front door closing loudly echoed throughout the house.

Maro had come home for dinner earlier, and we sat awkwardly at the table together as we ate. No happy sibling bonding time there.

Afterwards, he pushed out of his chair, left his plate on the table and exited the house with an abrupt, "Later, loser."

I had no idea where he was going, but he normally never told me these things anyway.

Sometimes I liked to believe that he spoke with brotherly affection when he said things like this, but I somehow doubted it. I thought we might have been close once, but I really don't remember any specific incidents. It made me sad.

Apparently he was back from wherever.

On cue, my mother's eyes glistened over with joy. Her voice shifted to a warm, maternal tone that I never once heard directed towards me. "Maro! My darling, is that you?"

Maro entered the room with gruff "Yeah." He did not even glance my way.

"My dear son, are you just now getting home? Darling, there are some dangerous things out there..." Mother swooned slightly (probably imagining some of those dangerous things) and Maro rushed to her side. He steadied her before he sat next to her on the bed and put his arm over her shoulders.

"I am sixteen now, I can take care of myself." He told her.

She gasped, as if in sudden remembrance. "Oh that is right my baby boy, it's your birthday! My little man is all grown up! We forgot to celebrate!"

She turned towards me abruptly with a complete change of attitude. "Sang! Did you feed this rubbish to your brother on his birthday? What is wrong with you?"

"But..." I started.

Maro interrupted me, yet still didn't look in my direction. "It was ok."

Mother blinked up at him. "Are you certain?"