A L O O F
Sneaking in had always been trouble but sneaking in whilst caked in dirt and blood was sheer distress. This side of the school was abandoned completely for years but today something felt off in the air. He decided to ignore it as he recalled how he stumbled upon this place while striding on one of his many adventures. It was a hefty amount of crawling, squirming, and wriggling on Aiden's part.
The boy can not blame himself, the wall was concealed with vines as if it were part of nature.
He was wiping the dirt from a chair with his already soiled sleeve trying his best not to cringe when he noticed a moment from the corner of his eye.
A single black rose was resting on the old desk.
The young boy was momentarily distracted as he mulled over the beauty of the flower. Upon closer inspection, he found out it was a deep crimson color, a slightly darker shade than the dried blood on his hands.
The beauty and fierceness of the flower scared Aiden. At a very young age, he was told it was never a good combination. But that was not the only thing that terrified the boy, it was the fact that someone had been at this place with a message that he can not even decipher was the real deal.
Suddenly he felt tired.
He thought he came here to rest and forget about what happened but the reality caught up to him in more than one way. He heard the faint voice of the principal in the intercom calling him.
He glanced at the rose in his hand contemplating if he should visit the infamous principal or not.
Amid the decision-making and eyeing the flower strangely did he caught a glimpse of a shadow outside the tattered door.
He shivered as the silhouette disappeared from his peripheral.
The first thing he noticed when he entered her office was the fake mahogany desk, but he didn't bother to tell her about it. The desk was the only thing that stood out in the otherwise monochromatic room.
When he looked up at the principal, the boy was shocked at the intense gaze directed toward him, he quickly averted his eyes. But the fresh scratches on her face caught his attention.
"A cat", she said when she saw him staring, intently.
As if I would believe that. He thought as he sat there waiting for the regular lecture.
"You are quite the trouble maker", she said before going back to staring at him. After that, the silence followed.
He sensed something was wrong, normally by now he would have been dismissed but the silence was eating him up from the inside.
"It is time".
"For what", The boy said hastily furrowing his brows to look attentive.
This had never happened before.
The boy did not wait for an answer as all the fight escaped me.
"Am I in trouble", he asked rather meekly.
She did not answer; instead, she looked straight into his eyes as if assessing him. The mismatched-eyed boy found his insecurity, which he had spent years getting rid of, hit him full force. He tried to ignore it as he asked the question once again.
She started rummaging through her desk whereas the boy struggled to keep his emotions schooled.
She finally answered, tossing a small box his way, "Indeed you are Mr. Lotus in deep trouble."
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She was standing beside the kitchen counter when I entered. I had told her so many times that this would not change anything but she never listened.
She was looking outside from the window in our kitchen. I had to admit the view was terrible.
We lived in an area with jam-packed houses, so it was no surprise our window overlooked our neighbor's cemented wall.
Our house, on the other hand, was rundown and shabby. Just thinking about it caused me a massive migraine. I stood there counting the amount of electricity bill I had to pay.
I tried to calm myself by focusing on my surrounding, which comprised of a barking dog and a couple's squabbling.
So much for calming down.
I shook my head trying to get rid of the distracting thoughts as I reminded myself that I had something to tell her.
"Mother", I started, gathering up all the courage I had left.
" Mother, I want to tell you something", as expected she did not give any kind of response. But this was important, I decided to push her a little, even though I did not know the consequences of that.
"Mother, please snap out of it, he is gone"
Nothing.
Every time I talk to her I was reminded of the shell of a person she used to be. She was cheery and bubbly with a spark in her eyes. She was happy and smiling. But most importantly, she was hopeful.
Everything took an eighty-degree turn as she began spending time with him.
I had thought she would get better after his death and she did, for the first year. But after that year her health started decaying like the walls in our house.
The last time she talked to me, ended in a confrontation, but I still remember it vividly. She was sitting on our caramel-colored couch.
"Honey, start tutoring", she suggested while I had just got home from the free piano lessons I had won in a contest.
The term of endearment surprised me but I kept my features composed.
"Fine, I'm free anyway and we need money", I answered, eyeing my surrounding.
"I'm dying"
"What", I asked
"You heard me"
"How much time"
"Five years"
I was shocked. I knew I was supposed to hug her, while she bawled her eyes out. But for some reason, I was opposed to the idea.
I just gave her a nod and preceded upstairs to prepare on finding my first ever part-time job.
I heard the click of the door and knew she had left for the day.
That was the first, and the last time she called me honey.
I shook my head to get rid of the depressing thoughts. I had to focus on the matter at hand if anyone could answer my questions it would be her.
"Mama, I am changing", I finally confessed.
I watched in amazement as she, for the first time in four years, craned her neck to look at me.
I was baffled but the emotion in her eyes deflated me the next second.
She cleared her throat.
I vaguely registered that the barking of the dog had ceased and the loud thump of the door signaled the neighbor's wife has left again. It felt like the world yearned to listen to her voice for she had been silent for years.
I waited, patience running thin as she just gawked at me.
"Say something", I urged.
And with a sneer on her face, she looked at me and scoffed.
"You are no son of mine".