With immense care, Amy places the fresh cooked bacon on a crammed plate. The smell of scrambled eggs and squeezed orange juice, gives the house a tasteful sensation. A sensation that swelled the kitchen with a light smoke, due to her inexperience with cooking.
She childishly hops on her tippy toes and adds the unnecessary finishing touches to the meal. This beautiful breakfast wasn't for Dustin, or for her father. It rightfully belonged to her mother.
Amy used the early morning to her advantage. Her father was still asleep, giving her the time to make a large breakfast without him knowing. It was his job to feed their mother, but she wanted to take that responsibility in her own hands. She tried her hardest to keep the food as healthy as possible, adding spinach to the mixture of the scrambled eggs.
Was it wrong that she wanted it to be a surprise, in yearning hopes her mom might not be able to say no? Even with all the positive wishful thinking, she couldn't help but wonder...
"Am I expecting too much?"
The question was nagging, but reasonable. Amy wasn't expecting her to wolf down the entire meal, instead she assumed her mom would take small nibbles.
Another question comes out of the blue, catching her off guard.
"Dose she even like eggs? "
This should've be a easy question to answer, but in this awful situation it was not. Amy's mother had lost her voice. Her throat had collapsed a few years back, leading to the dependence of artificial air the machines pumped inside her. Caring for her was just a sick guessing game.
Even if she didn't enjoy the food, it would still be a big victory. The smallest amount of nutrients could help her in the long run.
"I won't take no as a answer," she chants confidently in her head.
With faith and assertiveness coursing through her restless veins, she places the plate on a tray and strides into the back room.
"Mom?" She calls out and pushes the door with her back, keeping the food from spilling, "Are you awake? I have a surprise for you!"
Amy expected to be answered back with silence, but this didn't stop her from calling out. It never did. In a way, she pretended to have full conservation with her mom.
"Look what I have." She places the tray on a coffee table...
The mother's appearance is stiff and colorless. Her departed eyes fixed on the ceiling above. The busy-bodied blood that inhabited her veins, had gone quiet. At first, Amy doesn't take notice of the crimson fluid dribbling down her chin. Her lips were thin and faintly open, indicating she had tried to be heard before her last breath. Death had been in this room and she had been a easy victim.
Amy felt her knees buckle and her muscles strained. The blood was a warning sign of demise and she stood heedful. With inescapable fright scampering inside her panicked mind, she refused to get close. In a moment of terror and dread, her mouth lets out a instinctive scream.
"DUSTIN!"
At this point, she had no control of her actions. It was strange she screamed out for Dustin, instead of her father. Something subconsciously inside her, prefers the protection of her brother. In her most feared state, Dustin is the light of comfort and security.
A gush of wind cools her heated cheekbones, as the door is harshly swung open. Dustin quickly stumbles inside the room, his bedhead hair is unkempt and shaggy. His face is a fleshly color of worry and panic.
"Amy?!!" His voice cracks, "Whats wrong?!"
He briefly studies her body, looking for something wrong. The only thing out of the ordinary, was the constant stream of dishearten tears. She gasps between each hiccup of fear, desperately trying to make words.
"Mm-mom..."
His eyes dart to his deceased mother.
It had finally happened...
Even though he had expected his, he was surprisingly shocked. The poison had done it's job, but it had happened so quick. He had injected enough to kill her within a few weeks, not days. His failure caused Amy harm. Dustin didn't want her to see this. HE was suppose to find their mother dead, not her. The plan had felt like it was falling apart, but he gets his act together and plays along.
Trying to shield her eyes from the corpse in front of them, he presses her wet face onto his chest.
"You shouldn't of seen that." He vaguely whispers, knowing he was guilty for her trauma.
Amy keeps herself buried inside of his shirt. She dread to look anywhere else, in fear her eyes might land back on their mother.
"We have to go and get dad." Dustin keeps her hugged against himself, as he steadily walks out and back into the kitchen.
Everything was moving so fast, but he knew he had to get Amy out of that room. The longer she remained in there, the more damage would infect her fragile mind.