"So, do you now know what it means?" my mom asked me.
"Yes," I nodded with enthusiasm.
Mom smiled at me, and we resumed walking. Her pace was slow because she was pregnant, and I was about to have a little robot to command. It's cool to be the eldest, but it sure is difficult in some ways too. She was about nine months along, meaning he or she was about to come. NOICE.
As I walked while holding hands with my mother, I felt the changes in my body. Now that I was four years old, I was taller and a bit on the skinny side, but the baby fat was slowly disappearing. Finally. I wouldn't have people pinching my innocent cheeks anymore. Remembering that kind of torture made me shiver.
"Malenia!" Julie called.I looked at her with caution. My mom, however, seemed pretty much ignorant of this part. Julie was one of the biggest haters of Mom right now.
The real reason was unknown, but it could be just my intuition. My lifetime experience of staying with criminals sure had allowed me to look into their souls.
I scrutinized Julie, a young girl about the same age as my mom. My mom wasn't that old—about 24—and Julie might be 22. She had blonde hair and blue eyes, looking just like an innocent princess kidnapped in a game.
"Malenia, I was trying to find you," Julie spoke."Why? Was there something?" My mom asked, a bit worried."No, nothing. Just wanted to give you this drink I made for everyone." She handed Mom a glass of an unknown substance, which I couldn't see because I was a tiny boy.
My guts told me to stop this, but my mind refused. I just prayed Mom wouldn't accept it."Sure." My mom accepted the drink.No, my mind insisted, it wouldn't be anything. She was just a girl.
Being around criminals had made me paranoid. No, it couldn't be, I assured myself. My mom grabbed the glass and looked at me.
"Wanna drink?" she asked.I nodded and drank half of the glass. See, there's nothing, I assured my heart. After Mom drank, we went back to walking, and Julie left us.
"Mom, what will we be doing next?" I asked innocently, looking up at her. Her golden eyes shimmered like polished gold, and I still couldn't believe something so beautiful existed. If she were on Earth, she'd have been considered Miss Universe without a doubt. I couldn't stop praising her, but then again, she was my first mother—probably the only one I'd ever have.
Looking back, I realized I had this habit of praising people a bit too much. Whether it was a psychological trick or something else, I wasn't entirely sure. Must be the first.
Mother looked at me with a wide smile and ruffled my hair, spreading them messily across my forehead. "Nothing, just living together," she said sweetly.
I fell in love all over again—not in the wrong way, but the right way, pure and simple. I hugged her pristine white leg tightly, burying my face against her. I hadn't noticed the tiny tears forming in my eyes. It was the kind of happiness my little body couldn't fully contain.
She looked down at me with a worried expression. Seeing her concern made me squeeze her leg tighter, the warmth of her presence calming the surge of emotions within me.
I finally found something to cling to, something precious. And now... I just didn't want her or my dad to die. It was an obsession—I don't know if that's the right word—but it gripped me tightly. In my past life, I had everything, all the material wealth and comforts anyone could ask for. But I didn't have love. Not like this.
This time, I'll do whatever it takes. I'll protect them, cherish them. This time, I'll try to hold onto everything I never had before—the love of a family. And I won't let it slip through my fingers. Not again.
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"NO!!!" I screamed, my voice cracking as raw power surged uncontrollably through me, rising in pitch until it felt like it might shatter the very air around us. This can't be happening—it can't happen to me. Not now. I finally found it, finally had something worth holding on to...
And now, it was slipping away.
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About 2 hours ago:-
As my mom and I walked together, everything felt normal—until it didn't. Suddenly, I felt a flicker of weakness in the hand I was holding. What the hell? My head snapped to the side, and I saw her clutching her head, her grip on my hand tightening as if she was trying to steady herself. Panic surged through me.
"Mom?" I called out, but she didn't respond. I could feel her leaning on me for support, her legs trembling. Ahhh, shit. I quickly scanned our surroundings, my heart racing, and finally spotted an empty bench nearby.
"Come on, Mom! Let's go there," I urged, grabbing her hand with both of mine and guiding her toward the bench. She sat down heavily, immediately cradling her belly. My heart sank—it had to be something related to the baby.
I didn't waste a second. Assessing the situation as best as I could, I knew I had to get help. I started screaming loudly, my voice ringing with urgency. "Help! Someone, please!"
It wasn't long before I saw my father sprinting toward us, his face a mask of worry. His eyes darted between me and Mom, his fear evident in every step.
Father scooped up Mother in his arms, her body limp and heavy as he hurried back to the carriage—the little home we had on the road. As we ran, others in the camp emerged from their tents, their eyes full of concern and confusion, but I barely noticed. My focus was on the ragged, shallow breaths my mother was taking as Father laid her down on the bed inside the carriage.
Then, it hit me—a sudden, bone-chilling cold that washed over my entire body, freezing me in place. What the hell? Is this just tension, or something more? There was no time to waste pondering. My father's voice cut through the haze, instructing me to leave the room. I nodded, obediently stepping outside. The last thing I wanted was to be in the way of whatever needed to be done to help her.
But as I stepped out, the cold didn't fade. If anything, it intensified, creeping deeper into my skin. At the same time, a wave of heat pulsed through me, conflicting with the cold in a way that made my entire body feel like it was tearing apart. What the hell is happening to me?
I didn't waste a nanosecond, quickly sitting down on a chair outside the carriage, trying to assess what was going on inside my own body. I stared at my hands, watching in horror as they grew paler and paler—far paler than they should be. Damn it. Isn't paleness also a sign of poisoning? No, no, it can't be. I shook my head, dismissing the thought, trying to focus on what mattered.
I looked up at the carriage, my heart pounding in my chest. Praying. Hoping. Wishing with every fiber of my being that nothing would happen to her.
An hour passed, and the entire circus crew gathered outside the carriage, their anxious faces illuminated by the dimming light of the evening. Some tried to ask what had happened, their voices tinged with concern, but I was too preoccupied to respond. My body felt like it was on the verge of collapse, so I ignored them, too focused on the battle raging within me.
I remained in the same position, frozen in the chair, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. Sweat dripped down my face, soaking through my clothes as if I'd been caught in a downpour. The coldness continued to spread, relentless, seeping into every inch of my body. My skin, already unnaturally pale, had turned pure white, a stark contrast to the angry red veins now protruding from my neck like twisted vines.
I clenched my teeth, trying to stop the relentless chill from consuming me completely, but it was a losing battle. Every breath felt labored, each one more difficult than the last. What was happening to me? Was this some twisted side effect of the tension, or something far more sinister? My mind raced, but I couldn't find an answer. All I could do was hold on, praying that whatever was going on with me would stop—and that my mother would be okay.
Father emerged from the carriage, his head hanging low, every step heavy with sorrow. No, no, no—this can't be happening. My mind screamed in denial, desperate to push away the reality I feared. Please, God, don't do this to me.
In his arms, he held something wrapped in a white cloth, and my heart plummeted. What the hell…? As he descended the steps, tears streamed down his face, pouring out like a broken dam. It was all too much. I stood up, clutching my left shoulder, trying to hold onto some semblance of warmth, some hope that this was all a terrible dream. But the dread only deepened.
I couldn't believe it. I wouldn't believe it. I rushed forward, desperate to reach the carriage, to see for myself. Father tried to stop me, but it was too late. The others began to gather around him, their faces pale with worry, but I pushed past them, needing to know—needing to see.
As I stumbled into the carriage, I kept telling myself that I was just being paranoid. Mother was simply exhausted—that's all it was. It couldn't be anything else. But when my eyes fell on the bed, the breath caught in my throat. There, lying still and silent, was the lifeless body of my mother.
The world around me blurred, and I felt as if the very ground was crumbling beneath me. I grabbed my head, as if trying to crush the pain away, squatting down on my knees. I could feel something building up inside me, a pressure so immense it felt like I would explode. But there was no release, only the crushing weight of loss.
"NO!!!" I screamed, my voice cracking as raw power surged uncontrollably through me, rising in pitch until it felt like it might shatter the very air around us. This can't be happening—it can't happen to me.
NOT NOW! I finally found it, finally had something worth holding on to...
NO.NONOOO!!!!
And now, it was slipping away.
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