I found my mother in her usual spot, hiding in the corner, high on whatever drug that she has chosen for her drug of the week. Typically what ever gave here the highest high on the least amount of cash.
"Mom, what are you feeling like for dinner?" I asked her standing across the kitchen.
"Macaroni and cheese." she slowly stood and retreated back into her room.
It was the same every day she would be waiting for me in her corner I'd ask what she wanted for dinner, and then make it. However one thing was different. On the counter a black pair of leather gloves were delicately placed with a note next to them.
The gloves were so smooth and the inside was so soft. The lean black gloves slid up my arms to my elbow and had the classic crunch of leather as I clenched and unclenched my hand getting a feel for the cool material.
The note that was attached read:
Dear Tessa,
I know about you.
This will help.
Sincerely, Your Savior
My savior? What does that mean? I think I can handle myself, but maybe these gloves can help me interact with people, even get friends!
It's been so long since I've had a friend, sad I know, but I was twelve when I received my curse so for the first twelve years of my life I was a normal girl. It's just been the last five years that have been miserable.
These gloves are awesome, but I can't even begin to think about who "my savior" could possibly be. Blue eye's was with me practically the whole time I wasn't home. He would have had to get into my house in between his appearance at school and when I left this morning. If he was the one to have placed them there my mom would have messed with them during the day.
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As usual we ate in silence, my mother scarfing down her meal as quickly as possible to be further away from me sooner.
"Mom I won't hurt you, and I don't have the plague." I tried to joke but the amusement in my voice failing to lighten the mood.
"You kill with one touch I just can't risk it Tessa, your father, Liam..." she trailed off remembering our Scottish terrier.
"That wasn't my fault!" I whined trying to get her to understand it was my curse not me.
"I should call the government, but you're my daughter I couldn't..." she rambled on about the pros and cons of turning me in for the rest of the meal. At least today we had a conversation.