Page 359 of Eternal
I believe her.
But I miss the way Mischka and Notch would chase me even when it was raining.
I miss knowing what time it is.
She said the world was evil and loud and only I could keep hers quiet. That I was her sunshine and moon at the same time because of my eyes, her pretty iris. But sometimes she looked at me like I was the noise too. Like I was dark clouds and a dead flower.
I live in the closet now. The hallway one. It’s small, and I made it mine. I call it my lonely castle.
I folded Eren’s blanket into the floor and tucked Sunny under my chin. He’s my red fox. He smells like my mouth because I sleep on him.
Sunny was my only friend now.
But he keeps me company because Mama can’t anymore.
She is really sad.
She used to sing to me when she brushed my hair. A song with words I never understand. I hum it now in the closet, softly, into Sunny’s ear. I don’t really remember what it sounded like anymore, I only know how it made my chest feel. Floaty, warm, like I could cry and laugh at the same time.
Sometimes she’d come open the door and cry, or scream, or throw up and tell me she was sorry but also that I was ungrateful. I simply nodded and hugged her. It was safer to be quiet
She needed me close. She always repeated that she missed me too much when I was gone. That I was the only one who made her feel real.
So I stayed.
I was hungry. But not enough to leave my lonely castle yet.
I think she cried last night. I think she drank too. Her voice sounded sloshy when she asked if I still loved her. But it made my chest twist. So this morning I left her room and didn’t stop thinking about the way her eyes looked when she asked if I was still her little girl. Of course I was. I would always be my mom’s little girl. But she didn’t believe it. It made me sad too.
I stay here all day long. Then I hear something. A short scream.
Not like yelling, more like someone falling. Then glass shatters.
I freeze, my chest gets tight and I stop humming. Sunny is smashed under my chin now and I think I might be breathing too loud.
Nothing else happens. No footsteps. No voice.
I don’t know how long I wait. I thinkforever.
Then I kick the door open. The light burns. I squint, step out, the hallway is silent, but I whisper, “Mama?” No one answers.
I move toward the living room, slow. There’s broken glass on the ground. A vase.
The one with the irises. They’re dead now. All dried and brown and curled like paper. I liked them when they were purple.
And Mama is next to them.
She’s on the floor, slumped weird. Her hand is half-under her stomach. Her hair covers part of her face. The bottle is tipped over. The white plate is on the table, there’s powder on it, and a straw, not the drinking kind, the other kind.
I think I whisper her name. “Amane?”
Nothing.
“Mama, I’m hungry,” I said. I don’t know why that’s what came out, it just did.
I take a step. My foot crunches something. I look down and I’ve stepped on the irises. My sock is wet because of the water from the vase.
My legs stop working and I drop to my knees beside her. Sunny gets squished under my arm but I’m scared.
