'Your pills, Mum!' called out Louie.
She scrutinized the kitchen. She immediately noticed the walls adorned with a mosaic of stains, a testament to the countless hours Louie spent perfecting each recipe for her mother. The stainless-steel countertops, once gleaming, now bear scars from countless knife scrapes. A thin layer of flour, intermittently interrupted by smudges of vibrant spices like paprika and turmeric, covers the surfaces. The sink, flanked by dirty dishes and a pile of pots in various stages of cleaning, begged for mercy. The floor was besmirched by a thick layer of dirt and grime. Louie was so consumed by the amount of schoolwork, she forgot about the household duties. A faint moan came from the living room. She sluggishly walked to the living room.
'Mum, are you okay?' she asked with a gentle tone
The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, golden hue upon its weary inhabitant. The gentle hum of the ceiling fan whirred above, creating a melodic symphony that seemed to match the rhythm of the tired soul sprawled upon the worn-out couch.
'Please don't make me take the pills, Loopy', her mother shuddered.
She hadn't called her that in ages.
Louie trembled, remembering how she used to be. Was that even her mother?
In the quaint town of Willowbrook, where the whispering willows sway, lived a grieving mother named Evelyn. Since the tragic loss of her beloved husband, she had become a mere shadow of her former vibrant self, consumed by a shroud of melancholy that infiltrated every corner of her life. As days turned into endless nights and her daughter, Louie, yearned for her mother's warm embrace, it was Louie, who took it upon herself to bring back the spark of joy into their shattered home. Through tender gestures and unwavering patience, she embarked on a heartfelt mission, determined to mend their fractured family bonds and awaken his mother's heart from its slumber.
And just those eight words shattered Louie. She swallowed hard. It was always a struggle to get her mother to cooperate. Evelyn's deep blue eyes always seemed to entice her. She begged and pleaded but Louie was as durable as a well-built cabinet.
'You have to take it, the doctors said two a day. I know you don't like them but they help you with your mood,' Louie said, with no emotion on her face or voice.
She knew if she showed a pinch of emotion, her mum would take her chance and pounce at her prey. She slid the water and pill towards her mother. Evelyn sat up, her eyes lowering. She drank the water and then the pill. Louie closely observed her mother swallow it, aware of what she'd do without supervision. Evelyn curled back into a ball of blanket. Louie flashed a smile and left a kiss on her forehead.
'Don't smile at me like that', the ball grumbled.
'Why?'
'It makes me regret leaving this world', it replied.
Before words can even leave her lips to reply, Evelyn let out a snore.
Her smile disappeared within the blink of an eye.