I trudge toward the kitchen and take out a water bottle from the fridge. I don't care for a glass; I hold the bottle an inch away from my mouth and start drinking. The water flows down my chin; I choke midway and cough dangerously as my mind reminds me...
'Mom doesn't want you to drink water this way' it says.
I take out a glass from the cabinet, pour water into it and start drinking again.
'Good girl' my mind says.
I walk back towards my room but stop when I notice that the tan colored door of mom's closet isn't locked properly. The 'lub dub' of my heart fastens; I swallow loudly and take careful, silent steps toward the closet. I brush my finger against the narrow opening of the door. I close my left eye and look at the silver thing which connects the door to the lock; it isn't pushed in fully. I hold the knob tightly in both my hands and kick the end of the door while I turn the doorknob and jerk my hands backward, the result of which is an unlocked yet, an unharmed door.
I open the closet, and my eyes instantly fall on the four drawers at the bottom right. I open the corner drawer and dig my hand under mom's clothes letting her soft, beautiful silk robe caress my skin until I find something even more beautiful, but despite it, I regret my decision already.
I take out two photographs and hold them close to my face, so I don't miss any details even when I am quite familiar with the photographs; thanks to mom's carelessness when locking the door. I don't know anything about the people in the pictures; not even their names but I know I must love them and should have met them by now. The man in the first picture is wearing a check shirt and black trousers. The fine maturity on his face points he is probably in his early forties. The woman next to him is also smiling at the camera; she has small eyes like her husband and has a pointed nose. They appear younger in the second picture, and in front of them a girl is standing who looks three or four years old and has light brown hair, deep-set eyes, medium-sized nose, and thin pink lips; she is my mom and standing with her are her parents; the couple in the photographs is my grandparents.
I exhale a deep breath as I drop my shoulders and half-smile, "I wish I had met you and gotten to know you, but you know what's weird, I don't even know you, but somehow I miss you. I wish you were here with mom; she misses you so much, she wishes she had met or just talked to you before you di..." I stop.
I kiss the pictures like mom always does; it somehow makes me feel closer to her. I still remember the first time I unintentionally stumbled upon one of these private moments of hers.
I had come down to her room, "mom mom," I was calling.
"Coming," a voice came from the bathroom, and shortly after, she entered the room while patting her face with a towel. But once the towel wasn't hiding her face anymore, I could tell she had been crying. "What happened?" she started drying dry her hands.
"Nothing, I forgot," I softly said when I noticed a corner of a photograph peeping out of her jean's pocket. I watched her swollen red lips, wet eyes, pained face but walked out of the room when she turned her back to me. I stood hiding outside her room and heard an exhale as if she was struggling to breathe normally and the closet and a drawer opening and closing after a second. I found the photographs in one of my school bunking days; looking at them, I immediately understood who the people in the photographs were and how I was related to them.
A ting sound breaks the deathly silence in the house. My body freezes, and my eyes grow wide. I urgently inhale and swallow. The bell rings again and, 'oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, what if it's mom' my mind goes.
'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god' I go too. I put the photographs back in the drawer and lock the door a little too harshly.
'Wait, you sure you placed the photographs right where they were, you know mom has got an eagle eye when it comes to this stuff' my mind says.
'I guess' I frown.
'Guessing is not good enough.'
'You know what, I have already locked it; I don't have the key and mom in her wildest dreams won't ever think of me even if she notices something different' I irritably reply.
'Yeah because she never thinks about you.'
'Shut up, you have no...' I stop when the bell rings again. I leave the room hurriedly and go to the kitchen. I pick up the glass in which I was drinking and run to the door. I take two deep breaths before opening the door.
"Hey mom, you are earl..." I stop when I see it's Isla. I roll my eyes. "Seriously, is someone dying out here," I clench my jaw.
"What?"
"Why did you ring the bell so many times" I frown.
"Sorry but, you know, I do that," she says and hugs me room the side.
I break into a smile, "yeah, I know" and hug her back.
"Now can I come inside, I really gotta pee" she looks at me.
"Oh," I hug her tightly.
"I am very close to bursting, I swear."
"Uh huh," I chuckle. She pushes out her lower lip, and I am forced to leave her. She runs towards my room. I follow her after shutting the door.