Page 41 of Beneath the Light of the Moon
A yellow tinted vestibule greeted her, its age not a reflection of the exterior, but still a dated era nonetheless. It was a conglomerate of years mushed together, miscellaneous renovations overlapping and creating the current space. Anika wasn’t sure if it was hideous because itwas,or if her bias was influenced by the memories attached to this place. Regardless, she never lingered long.
The old door slammed on creaky hinges behind her, triggering another memory of how the noise had startled her for weeks when she’d first started coming here.
So much has changed,she thought.
“Anika,” the woman behind the desk said, “good to see you back.”
The wires embedded in the glass warped her face, but Anika knew who she was. With her routine visits, they’d formed an acquaintance.
“Hi Barbara, good to see you.”
Grabbing a clipboard, the dark haired woman stood and exited the small office she was confined to in the entry. Opening the door to the vestibule, she waved Anika the rest of the way in as a warm rush of air trickled in from the furnace, making her shiver. It was an unusually cold day even for the beginning of October.
Maybe the universe knows where I’m heading and decided to set the mood.
Brushing the thought away, Anika followed Barbara silently.
Originally, Ira had wanted to come here on her own since she required physical therapy and a nurse who was on standby. Years ago, Anika had fought her mom on that, trying to care for her on her own. But between school and working to provide an income for both of them, it became too much to bear alone. Ira needed constant monitoring, the ghosts of their past haunting her every waking moment.
Anika had her own demons to deal with, but she hid them—buriedthem beneath all the dark layers of her heart—to care for her mom. They’d already lost so much; the secrets within Anika’s heart needed to remain as such so her mom could embrace the peaceful life she deserved. Sanity was a fleeting attribute, and Anika didn’t want to risk it.
Not only did memories ail her mom, but also her physical scars. Phantom pains from the bullet wounds she’d sustained that day still radiated throughout her torso and legs, causing her to groan and wail.
It was horrendous.
Now, Anika walked the halls of Evergrove, a place boasting quality care. Well, as quality as Anika could find within her budget. It’d been a miracle when her mother was accepted in—a weight lifting off both their shoulders. But now, looking at the peeling wallpaper, Anika wondered if she did the right thing.
Confinement was relative Anika supposed, knowing some people enjoyed the structure it brought. Many were content living inside a cage as long as they were sheltered from the ways of the harsh world.
Ira was one of those people. Her mom didn’t mind the yellow lights and the worn furniture. Anika tolerated it too, knowing it was necessary for their survival. It was the other patients, the ones who roamed and searched the halls for an escape, that Anika watched closely.
Their soft sneakers squeaked on the waxed floor as Barbara led Anika down familiar passages. Among the pauses of silence, small talk ensued among them; Anika commenting on her work, and Barbara updating her on her daughter’s progress in school.
Stopping in front of a cherry stained wood door, Barbara entered a passcode and pushed it open.
“You know the drill, ring the bell when you’re done, or if you need anything.” With that, Anika was left alone with her mom. Or the shellof her.
A beep and the sound of the lock sliding into place behind her hardly stood out as unusual. It kept her mother safe unlike all those years ago when a poorly cloaked excuse of a real estate business broke into their family home and took her father before he could see his daughter grow up. It kept the people they didn’t trust out, so they could live as though they didn’t carry the weight of those terrible echoes.
“Hi, mom,” Anika said, pulling up the chair beside Ira’s bed. Most days, her mom was awake, eager to attend the activities the staff had planned for her and other people within the facility. But some days her mom slept, erasing the hurt with medication and unconsciousness.
Today was one of those days.
Reaching out and taking her mom’s warm hand nestled within the blankets, she sat there, content to listen to her breaths. Anika hardly ever did anything during her visits, just soaked up these moments. They weren’t ideal or picturesque, but it was enough.
And it was a reminder of what had been stolen from them—what needed to be taken back. The note she’d found on her car flashed across her mind again.
To devour me, you must have teeth.
Indeed; good thing Anika had been sharpening hers foryears.
“I’m getting closer to finding out who did this, mom,” was all she said, letting her words fill the space around them. “And once I get close enough to take a shot, I will.”
* **
Anika - 18 Years Ago
Thirteen.
