As soon as Carl stop crying his mother said something to him.
Mother
"Whoever did that to you should be punished but why the f*** did that teacher didn't intervene earlier? And why did she hold you so tightly."
As Carl look at her pissed off expression,he became confused cause he never saw her pissed like this or should I say how angry she is,the more Carl look at her the more he got confuse,because it was so far of what he imagined..
She hurried up washing the clothes and she said..
Mother
"Come!!"
Shouting through her emotion that Carl couldn't describe as she flip the basket and kick the bucket far away of course Carl was so shock and got scared he's instinct tells him if he gets in her way she might throw some kick at his face..
Modest Kitchen
The small kitchen is alive with tension. The sound of sizzling food and the metallic clang of utensils fills the room as Carl sits quietly at the table, watching his mother with wide eyes. She moves frantically, slamming pans and stirring furiously, her usually calm demeanor completely transformed.
Mother
(muttering under her breath, barely audible)
"How dare she… gripping him like that… didn't intervene… what kind of person does this?"
Carl shifts uncomfortably, his small hands clutching the edge of the chair. He musters the courage to speak.
Carl
(softly)
"Mom…"
His mother pauses for a moment, turning to face him with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. The smile feels sharp, almost predatory.
Mother
(sweetly, but unnerving)
"Yes, Carl?"
Carl hesitates, his voice trembling as he speaks.
Carl
"A-Are you… angry about what happened?"
His mother tilts her head, the smile still plastered on her face.
Mother
(voice dripping with faux innocence)
"Angry? What do you mean by that, honey?"
Her tone is calm, but her eyes flicker with a fire that Carl has never seen before. He swallows hard, his lips quivering.
Carl
"N-Nothing. I think I just misunderstood…"
His mother turns back to the stove, muttering again as she stirs the pan with such force that the handle rattles. Carl watches, frozen in place, his young mind trying to process the situation. Finally, his mother sets the pan down and places two plates on the table, the clang echoing like a warning.
Mother
(sitting, clasping her hands in prayer)
"Let's pray."
Carl bows his head nervously, peeking at her through the corner of his eye as she begins to pray.
Mother
(steadily, but with dark undertones)
"Oh Lord, thank You for this meal we are about to receive. And Lord, please forgive me for what I may do, for I swear I will cut that teacher's limbs one by one for laying a hand on my son. Amen."
Carl's head snaps up, his jaw dropping in shock. He stares at his mother, who now looks at him with an eerily calm expression, as though she hadn't just uttered something terrifying.
Carl
(stammering)
"M-Mom… are you going to… do something to my teacher?"
His mother smiles again, the same unsettling smile that makes Carl's stomach churn.
Mother
(sweetly)
"Mm? Oh no, honey, nothing at all. Why would I? Well, except maybe I should cut her hands off for gripping you so tightly. Didn't you say it hurt so much that you cried and could barely move?"
She leans closer, her tone softening but her words razor-sharp.
Mother
"Why would she do that to my precious boy, hmm?"
Carl's hands tremble as he clutches his spoon. His mother pulls back and pats his head gently, her expression softening just enough to comfort him—if only slightly.
Mother
"Finish your meal, sweetheart. After this, we're going straight to your school. Let's settle this, shall we?"
Carl nods slowly, his appetite gone but too scared to refuse. The sound of his spoon clinking against the plate echoes in the silent room as his mother sits back, her eyes fixed on him like a hawk, waiting for him to finish.
Fade out as the tension in the room thickens, with Carl stealing nervous glances at his mother, unsure of what will happen next.