IT WAS MIDDAY when Wrik and Anton arrived in Pantia, a small town where their family lives. The sky was harsh blue, as it was in Elania. While the wind had a little cold vibe in them, making the atmosphere a bit on the chillier side. It took them about three hours on the train and then half an hour on the carriage to reach here.
"We're here," Wrik said, arriving in front of their house. He opened Kathrin from the pet basket—her prison. Kathrin did not like it there at all, but Wrik was helpless on the train. Kathrin gave a meow full of grudge to move towards the house.
It was not that big of a house, barely bigger than their apartment in Elania. There's a small lawn in front of the house with a few plants. Not that fascinating, but still enhanced the beauty of the house by a bit. In the middle of the lawn was a chair, empty though. Aunt Anna liked to sprinkle in the morning sun while read some books or doing something.
Anton took the liberty to knock on the door, while Wrik stood behind. A quite heavy yet attractive middle-aged woman opened the door. She had blonde hair with a rather handsome face than beautiful. Their aunt, Anna Rossetti.
Her lips parted in a delightful smile, seeing their silhouettes. Without even saying anything, she gave a bear hug to Anton.
"Aunt." Anton fought for air in her embrace. "Will you let me breathe?"
"Ahh, Ton, I haven't seen you boys for months, I deserve a little hug." She then advanced to Wrik and gave him a bear hug as well. "Wrik, how's your university going? Have you found a girl yet?"
"It's all good," he gave a wry laugh. "I reckon, you're well, aunt."
"Of course, I am. What would happen to me?" the blonde woman made way for them to come into the house, then to notice the white fluffy kitty fighting for attention. "Kathrin is here as well." She bent down to pick the Kitty up, and Kathrin lunged up at the arms advancing towards her. "You two looked so skinny. I suppose you didn't eat well at the university."
Both of them gave a helpless chuckle hearing that. They didn't even attend the university, much less eating there. I would cause a world war here if anyone of them accidentally sounded it out.
Stepping inside the house, Wrik moved one step faster than them and moved straight towards a certain room across the corridor, saying nothing. Aunt Anna gave off a helpless sigh, seeing that. While Anton shook his head.
Sliding open the door a bit, he went inside. The room was small, there's nothing apart from a mahogany table and a large oak bed. He went near the bed where a pale figure was resting. Well, calling it pale might be an understatement. The figure had nothing but bone and pale, whitish skin. It was hard to discern if the figure belonged to a man or woman. This was his mother.
Her dark hair was cut short, not even half the length of his. Her face didn't have the least amount of elegance that Wrik had seen in his childhood. Nothing but pale and bony. Her skin had lost colour years ago when she had shown the symptoms.
It was over a decade ago, Wrik remembered when he was barely ten. . .the day his mother tried to kill herself and . . ..
It was the darkest day of his life—a day he would do anything to forget.
The suicide attempts didn't stop there, and it's not the end either. That was the beginning. Then the murmuring came, she started to murmur in her sleep, then to insomnia. And when Wrik was eleven, parts of her body started to paralyse. Well, it's good on one part — she couldn't attempt any more suicides. And after a year or two, she couldn't attempt anything. Not even the speaking. Anything but the vision.
She lost everything.
And as for his father, he was told that he ran away after learning about her pregnancy. His mother never talked about him—his father—when she was sane, as if she didn't care at all.
And Wrik stopped caring about him as well all these years.
Wrik touched her bony palm with both of his palms. Her arm was nothing but smooth and hard, as if he was touching a stone; there's not even a speck of softness in them. He smelled nothing but dry skin when he brought it towards his face. She lost her usual aura of orchid.
"Wrik?" a hesitant voice called out from behind him. "Aunt is calling us for lunch."
Wrik gave a high sigh and left the room. Anton looked at him, didn't know what to say.
"Don't give me that look, Ton," Wrik gave a hollow laugh. "It's not the first time I'm seeing this."
Anton found nothing to say, nodded. They arrive at the dining table to find that Aunt Anna was preparing something for them. The scents indicated it was something with eggs. They sat down at the dining table saying nothing. Wrik gestured with his hands to Anton asking something. In return, Anton shook off his head.
Wrik sighed in silence. He looked at the figure of his aunt and said rather slowly, "Aunt, we got a letter from Lucas yesterday. . ."
The figure in question faltered in her cooking for a moment, but continued what she was doing. She didn't ask for anything. As if the name—Lucas was foreign to her.
Anton emulated his lips, silently saying something. Wrik could make out, it was: 'say about the letter'.
After pondering for an entire minute, Wrik opened his mouth again. "He sent a letter for you as well."
There's no reply either. There was nothing but stillness in the room and the 'swoosh' of the fire burning in the stove. Aun Anna put off the gas and carried the pan, started to prepare their plates.
Anna Rossetti glared at the two boys. "Is it that time of the year again?" She finally asked, serving them the plates.
Wrik didn't answer, looked at his plate. Egg sandwich and salads with a lot of veggies. He took a mouthful of water in. "I don't like broccoli."
"Yet, you will eat it." She commanded with a loving smile on her lips. "Give me the letter."
Wrik looked at Anton, who instantly handed over the envelope. He was prepared for it.
She took the envelope, opened the letter and started to read it, taking a seat on a chair across them.
Wrik took advantage of that opportunity, passing over all the Broccoli from his plate to Anton's. Anton was about to yell, but restrained himself. It wasn't a good time to fight over food. He looked at their aunt, who was reading the letter with a frown. Anton gritted his teeth and ate those broccoli.
Wrik didn't stop staring at his aunt while he ate. She was reading the letter intensely. A deep frown appeared on her brows. Wrik didn't know what Lucas had written in it, but he could guess a few things. At last, she exhaled deep, finishing the letter.
"What does it say?" He asked, mouthing the sandwich.
She gave them a dangerous glare, then opened her mouth. "My answer is NO."
"But aunt?" Wrik and Anton complained at the same time.
"No buts. I'll not change my mind," she said before leaving the dining room.
Wrik shook his head, looking at the disappearing figure.
"I feel like," Anton put another broccoli in his mouth saying, "I'm eating this for nothing."
"I'll find a way," Wrik said. 'I have to find a way.' The problem was that he didn't know where to start.
"Of course, you will. If not, you will have to eat broccoli for breakfast every day from now on.
After eating, Wrik left the dining table. He went straight towards the room of his aunt but found no one there. After browsing a bit, he found she was in his mother's room.
Aun Anna was sitting on the bed in silence. In her hand was a picture of three kids—around the age of ten. Wrik at the middle, while Anton at the left and Lucas at the right. All three of them had a smile of sunshine on their lips, showing white teeth.
Wrik walked up close by her side, put his hand on her shoulder, "Aunt."
She didn't reply. He wetted his lips to say something but couldn't find anything. He sat next to her and looked at his mother—her eyes were still closed.
"Aunt, can you tell me what happened to my mother?" He asked in a milder tone.
There was no response, either.
"Aunt, I need to know. She's my mother." he said, pushing further with resolute eyes. "You know Aunt. Me, Anton, even Lucas . . ." He paused for a bit to find the right words. "We're not normal, I think you know that. You know more than you showed.
"Please aunt, say something, please…"
"I only know one thing, that world is dangerous." She said with blight in her eyes. "It took away my husband, and even my son and now you two. . . I can't lose anyone anymore. . ."
She teared up, and Wrik hugged her. As she continued. "Your mother went there. All I know is that she didn't want you to go there. She had known that she would go insane, she had known…" she hugged him tighter. "—that she would be left with nothing else.
"She asked me to take care of you. . . before she went insane. She never wanted you to make the same mistake as her." Her sentences got broken as water falling from her nostrils and eyes making her a bit unpleasant.
"You did take care of me, aunt. Not only me Anton too," He joined in with the crying. "You know, aunt, I already suspected these things years ago. But I wasn't strong enough to ask . . . I . . .."
Yes, Wiik had long ago suspected this. He knew his mothers' illness, her insanity was not natural. She was such a loving mother, yet now she's like this.
Aunt Anna sighed, looking at him, then at his mother. She moped her tears away to call out. "Ton, no need to stand outside the door, come in."
**************
Shit starts to get real, eh?
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