Lately, my life had become an endless cycle of mundane routines. I didn't find much meaning in anything anymore, no matter what I did. It felt like I was just existing, not truly living.
Every day was the same. I would wake up, eat breakfast, and spend most of my day alone in my room. Sometimes I would try to read a book or practice a skill, but it always felt like a chore, something I had to force myself to do.
As the day wore on, I found myself counting down the hours until I could crawl back into bed. Once the night had fallen, I would just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, with my mind wandering aimlessly. Everything was monotonous, and I felt like I was trapped in a never-ending loop of boredom.
I looked around my room once again. It was a small, simple space in our family house situated in one of the villages in the Republic of Acuna, far from the bustling capital city. Unlike the grand estate where I usually stayed to study, this room held a melancholic ambiance, as if it had absorbed the weight of my disappointment and loneliness.
The room was empty, except for a small bed, a bedside table, and a small bookshelf that contained only a few books. The curtains were always drawn, blocking out the sunlight and making the room dark and gloomy. I often found myself lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling as if the room was closing in on me, suffocating me. It was as if my past mistakes had caught up to me and this room was a physical manifestation of my failure.
It had been two years since then, and whenever the sun would rise, I would always shut the curtains, plunging the room into darkness. How many years had I been hiding in here? Yes, it had been two years. Two whole years of my life wasted, locked away in this dark and gloomy room. I hadn't done anything worthwhile during this time. I couldn't even remember what sunlight felt like anymore.
I took a deep breath and sat on the edge of my bed, feeling the softness of the mattress. My eyes drifted towards the small bookshelf, which only contained a few books that I had already read countless times. I had always found solace in reading, but lately, even that had lost its appeal.
I wondered how different my life would be if I had inherited the talents of my siblings. Maybe I would have been respected and valued by my family. But instead, I was just a disappointment, a failure. A burden.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. It was probably my mother, who would bring me my meals and check up on me.
"Leon, are you awake?" her voice pierced through the silence of my room, and I groaned inwardly. How long had it been since I had spoken to her properly? Since I had shut her out of my life?
As I heard her voice, memories flooded back to the time when I refused to face her. The times when I had pushed her away, and even thrown away the food that she had cooked for me. The way I had shouted at her, and the look on her face when she left my room at that time, were etched in my mind as if the whole thing had just happened yesterday. I honestly didn't know how to face her now.
When I didn't respond, she opened the door and peeked her head in the gap. I could see the concern in her eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze.
"How are you feeling? Are you okay now?" Her voice was soft and gentle.
I averted my eyes from her and went back to my bed. "Yeah. I'm fine now."
She entered the room while holding a tray filled with my breakfast, and she put it on the bedside table.
"Here's your food. Eat it all, okay? You need food so that your fever will disappear."
"I'm okay now, Mother. I'm not sick anymore." I tried to keep my voice as neutral as possible, hoping that she would leave soon.
But she didn't. "Were you having a nightmare…? You were tossing and turning in your sleep."
I didn't want to talk about it, so I just said, "I don't remember much about it. Sorry."
"Shall I sing you a lullaby?" Her voice was hesitant, and I could tell that she was trying to gauge my mood.
I shook my head. "No."
"Oh, okay. Well, if you need something. Just call me, okay?" With that, she left the room, closing the door gently behind her.
As I stared at the tray of food in front of me, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. My mother had always been there for me, even when I had shut her out. And yet, I still couldn't bring myself to face her properly. I knew that I needed to change, but I didn't know where to start. I had no clue where to even begin.
***
Elisa's POV:
I closed the door to my son's room, feeling an overwhelming sense of helplessness. As a mother, I had no idea what I should say to him. I was failing him, failing to help him break free from the darkness that had taken over his life.
Resting my head against the wooden door, I heaved a heavy sigh. It had been two long years since Leon had closed himself off from the world. I still clearly remembered how he looked when I first came to his room two years ago. The room was in shambles, but the only thing that caught my attention was him. Everything else, even the trashed things, vanished in my sight.
Leon had always been a cheerful child, swinging the sword his grandfather had given him with all his might, and always had a smile on his face as he did so. He would regale us with stories of what he learned at the school in the capital, and how fun it was to train in swordsmanship and sorcery.
My husband and I were happy for him, of course. But that all changed when he was disowned by his grandfather. After the official statement of his disownment, he returned to our house in the remote region of the Acuna Republic.
When he arrived, he immediately broke down, as if everything around him had faded away. I was shocked to see my cheerful boy crying like that, and couldn't understand why.
Then he told us everything. What had happened in his school, and his disownment after that. It was heartbreaking to see the pain and suffering he had to endure, all on his own.
And now, two years had passed, and he hadn't left his room even once. Not even to get some fresh air. That's why I knew I was failing him as a mother. A failure to help my own son find a way out of the darkness that had taken hold of him.
"I had to do something for him," I muttered to myself as I made my way down the stairs. As I entered the living room, I found my youngest child, Altesia, already sitting at the table and munching on her breakfast.
"Mother, has brother eaten his food?" she asked me with a mouthful of food.
I nodded and reassured her that he was feeling better. Altesia, or Tessia as we fondly called her, beamed at the news.
"I want to go see him! Can I go now, please?" she asked eagerly, her eyes and smile so bright that it felt wrong to refuse her.
I hesitated for a moment, but then nodded my approval. "You can go, but be quiet and gentle with him. Remember, your brother is not feeling well."
Tessia nodded her head vigorously, her short white hair bouncing up and down. "Yes, Mother. I will be very quiet and gentle, I promise."
As soon as she got my permission, she leaped from her seat and scampered up the stairs.
"Hey! No running! Oh, boy..." I shook my head and smiled at her enthusiasm, feeling grateful for her positivity.
***
After clearing the table, I immediately set out to go to my husband's workplace. He worked as the knight in charge of this village, a protector of sorts against monsters that roamed the nearby forest. Lately, monsters had been appearing more frequently, and he had to stay at the knight's post to keep watch for any potential threats.
I made my way through the village and towards the post. As I walked, I couldn't help but think about my husband. He was always so brave and strong, but these days, he looked so tired and worn out.
Finally, I arrived at the post and found my husband inside. He looked up and gave me a small smile as I entered.
"Good morning, dear. What brings you here?"
"I brought your breakfast," I replied, holding out the food container.
"Ah, thank you so much. I'm sorry you had to go through all this trouble."
"It's no trouble at all," I said, placing the basket on the table.
My husband began to eat his breakfast as we chatted about our day. He told me about the recent monster sightings and how he had to stay vigilant to keep the village safe. I listened intently, proud of him for his bravery and dedication.
As he finished his food, he turned to me and said, "Thank you for coming all this way to bring me breakfast. It means a lot to me."
"I'm happy to do it. You work so hard to keep us all safe, the least I can do is make sure you're fed."
He gave me a warm smile, which quickly shifted into a concerned expression.
"How's Leon? Is he okay now?" he asked.
"Yes. His fever is gone now. But, he's still staying inside his room. Do you know, um, how we can help him come out of his shell?" I asked, trying to hide the sadness in my voice.
My husband, Leonelle, let out a deep sigh before answering. "I wish I knew. It's been two years now, and he still hasn't come out of his room. I've tried talking to him, but he always shuts me out."
"I feel like such a failure as a mother. I don't know what to do," I admitted, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
Leonelle took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You're not a failure, Elisa. We just need to keep trying. We can't give up on him. He's our son, and we love him."
I nodded, feeling a bit better with his words of encouragement. Leonelle was always the rock in our family, always strong and dependable. I was grateful for him.