The Night Children

Chapter 5

I breathed in a long breath, letting the stale air fill my lungs until my eyes watered. I rubbed the area where my headache throbbed on my forehead, the distant sting of remorse settling into my mind.

Swallowing, I turned to begin to clean up after Mum's mess, collecting clothes and balling wrappers into my fists. This wasn't the first time I had done this, and it definitely wouldn't be the last.

I didn't know how long she was going to behave like this, but if it was like last time, it would be a few weeks. The time before this, she had found a discarded envelope addressed to Dad behind the kitchen counter, its wax sealing unopened. She had stared at the letter for hours before walking to her room. I didn't see her for two weeks after that.

Back then, her moods came as frequent as waves on the coast. In a moment she would be angry, lashing out into furious fits until I called our neighbours to hold her down. But then, as quickly as her episodes came, her mood would change. Within an instant she would return to cradling the photo of Dad in her arms, sobbing silently until blood seeped from her nose.

This current stage was the emotionless stage, the stage that came after the anger. I used to think this was the easiest stage to handle, but I soon realised I was far from right. It was when she was emotionless that she reached for the razors in the cabinet, or coiled her sheets together into a long rope. It was in this stage that she tried to throw herself into the lake when the moon was high enough to allow her to shy into the shadows. Or when she swallowed enough pills to fall into an endless sleep, her skin drained of colour.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, clenching the pile of clothes in my hands. I knew one day I would be too late to find her, the bathroom tiles stained red or her stomach already poisoned by drugs. But at this point in time, I had to distract her from the dangerous thoughts that crept into her mind when no one was around to protect her from herself.

                                                                        ....

By the time Mum was fully dressed, fed and showered, the sun had risen to its peak. I packed her into the car, ensuring she didn't return home until at least five in the evening. She only frowned at me icily, her gaze as sharp as flint but she didn't argue. She already knew that it would get her nowhere.

She drove off without a word, her hands white on the steering wheel as she accelerated. With a frown, I typed the message to the group chat, stating that I had successfully got her out of the house and she should arrive any minute.

I always hated asking her friends to meet with her, I knew the gossip they spread around town. They only agree to distract her out of pity, not out of kindness. They would engulf her with news, force her to shop and steer her away from her dark thoughts before passing her back to me. She would usually be too exhausted to stir trouble and instead fall asleep straight away, the dark thoughts pushed back until another day.

Now that the house was free, I made my way to the kitchen. I fetched whatever meat my hands touched, creating a pile on the kitchen table. After putting the meat into the microwave, I let my thoughts drift to previous events.

I wondered why Aaron was worked up over the mishap between him and Miss Anderson, or more so, him and Isaac. I didn't take him as someone who got angry frequently, but I had seen the way he stared at Isaac, like he wanted nothing more than to wrap his fingers around Isaacs neck.

The beeping of the microwave interrupted my thoughts. I took the meat out, the hot plate burning my fingers but my thoughts were elsewhere.

Isaac intrigued me, and apparently Aleena too. He had a confident aurora to him, one that followed him naturally. I wondered if his careless characteristic was to hide something, or merely because he sought the comforts of emotionless conversations between girls.