The Secret

Chapter 23

I throw my phone at the TV, unfortunately, it doesn't smash. Unsatisfied I stomp into the kitchen, opening cupboards and I start smashing the plates on the floor while screaming my head off. My body radiates heat. Getting hotter and hotter with each smash of the plate. After I smashed the white pristine plates, that are now in shards on the tile floor. I walk over and stomp on them, milling the shards into tiny pebbles of white ceramic material. I start pacing the kitchen. Willing myself to think, just FUCKING THINK. Instead, I take off my shoes and socks and I start jumping on the pebble-sized remains of the plates, hoping it would spark something in me. I could really use an epiphany. I feel the sharp shards digging into the bottom of my foot. I feel euphoric when I feel another emotion other than anger. The pain increases as I dig my foot into the pile. I smile, sadistically. When I've had enough I step off and I lean my back on the wall. I'm sitting right at the edge of the island which lies in the middle of the kitchen. I can hear the hum of the fridge beside me. The house is eerie quiet. My breathing and the hum of the fridge the only sounds that I can hear in the house. I look down and see splatters of blood everywhere. The scarlet red contrasts to the white tile beneath. I inspect my foot like it's a foreign object that doesn't belong to me anymore. I stare at the blood dripping slowly from different marks which I've made. There is still some white ceramic stuck to my foot. I lie on the floor, my body embraces the cold floor, finding it relaxing. My whole view has turned sideways as I lie with one cheek on the tile floor while the rest of my body has scrunched up into a ball. In my view I can see the broken pieces of the plate, lying in the pile which is now splattered with blood. In my peripheral vision, I see a large piece of a broken white plate. I turn my head upwards to have a better view. I inspect its sharp edge where it was once connected, making a large dinner plate. My eyes don't budge from the piece of plate, fascinated with the sharp edge. My eyes start to get droopy. I will my eyes to behave, to stay awake. But the coldness on my body is welcoming compared to the heat coursing through my body. I close my eyes, finally. I feel a tear escape before I let the sleep engulf me.

I feel something prodding my shoulder, I shift uncomfortably. I sigh while I try to go back to a peaceful sleep.

"Hey, Maya." I hear a washed out voice. My eyes flutter, unable to open. "Please, wake up." The voice pleads. My body twitches when I feel a warmth on my cheek. I finally flicker my eyes open. I squint at the light blinding my vision. It darkens suddenly and I'm able to open my eyes fully. My eyebrows crease as I face a red wall but it moves. What? I look up and see a familiar face, I smile, He smiles. I ease myself off the uncomfortable surface. Confused, I look at the tiled floor, I move my head upwards getting a larger view. I lean forward to look behind the body crouching in front of me. I spot the shards of white ceramic with splattered blood. The memories flood into my brain, as I realise what I've done.

I sheepishly look up at Jax who still wears a grin on his face. But looking into his eyes, I spot sadness. It's crazy how we can tell emotions through eyes. The one place we can't lie.

"What happened?" The sound of his voice brings bliss to my ears.

"I kind of..." How do I explain this situation right now? "I kind of had a mid-life crisis at age 16."

He gives me a genuine smile. I return the smile, It drops with the remembrance that my mother is still in the hands of that monster, I hope she's ok. I hope she's alive.

"What is it?" his voice is laced with concern seeing the change in my facial expression.

I let out a breath that I didn't realise I've been holding. I look around the walls of the room, they travel around and finally back to Jax's washed out blue eyes. I look down at the floor and then back at him. "He took my mam," I say softly, hoping that this is still some crazy nightmare and that it's not real.