Chapter 6

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My vision was suddenly blurry. But there was nothing in my eyes. No tears. And there was definitely no fog. And definitely not going blind. I closed my eyes and opened them again, but the result was the same. It's like those dreams where you want to know what's going on, but you can't because you can't see it. And when you do see something, you just wake up. I hate those types of dreams. But for some reason, this doesn't feel like a dream. But I don't know what to call it though. Something hung from my wrists – no, someone else's wrists, I realized. I pulled at it – or did she? – but I couldn't move any further than a step. My head throbbed, my body shook and my clothes, stained red. Blood. Those were the red stains. I heard a door open and close, and it echoed throughout the room. From the blurry vision, I could only see a dark shape. A low growl came out from somewhere. I would've shrunk away, if I didn't realize the noise came from the person I was seeing through. The black figure chuckled, and it sounded everywhere but nowhere at the same time. The figure reached towards her, but she fell to the ground before the person touched her, but the chains wasn't long enough, so her arms were stretched so far that if she goes down further, her arms definitely would, come out of their sockets. She screamed and she quickly stumbled up again, only to fall back to the ground. That was all I could see and feel. The pain in my arms, the murkiness around me and the fading echo of her scream.

I screamed and sat up from where I was. But nothing hurt. I was in my living room but found myself against the wall. What the hell just happened. The dream thing played over and over again. But I still couldn't see any details. The last time I had this, I could see, hear, and smell everything perfectly. But this time, it's as if I wasn't meant to know who this person was. I could still hear her deathly screams in my head. I wobbled across the room and grabbed a cold glass of water and drank it in one gulp. Hands spread out on the bench, I bent my head and slowly breathed in and out. I looked up when sounds of laughter entered through the doorway. There was a hidden space under the staircase, so I creeped around the corner just as they entered the living room. Mum seems to be laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. Was she at a party or something while I was hurt? My chest constricted as the thought drifted into my mind. There was someone else as well, but I couldn't tell who it was from where I was.

"Oh god! You're too funny!" mum went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. Make that two cups of coffee.

"I'm not funny. I was just telling you the truth of what happened" I frowned. It was some random stranger with a very rusty voice, yet it sound familiar to me. I just can't point my finger to where I must've heard it before. Maybe he was an unrecognizable actor or something. I mean, I've watched many movies and series. I might recognize this voice sooner or later. Probably later. They were still chatting about some joke when they randomly – out of the blue – started talking about mum's boss and his business.

"Does your boss know about my business?" the stranger asked.

"God no! It's better this way or else we're both dead" mum answered. Isn't it a good thing for a company to know another company? To see what their up against? Or maybe that's why they don't want her boss to know.

"That's good." He took a sip of his coffee and heard him cough and spat the coffee back into the cup. Gross! I am never using my cup again!

"But how is your business so far?" Mum took the cup and washed it, placing it in the cupboard.

"It's getting there, but every week it seems to get harder and harder. And it never seems to go up!"

"Well, you better hurry up. Or else we're going down." Mum raised her eyebrows, and she took a sip of her own coffee. Her face brightened when she was satisfied by the taste.

"Why? Do you think she'll defeat me?" Who's 'she'? Oh, wait, I think they're referring to the 'boss'. I thought mum's boss was a guy! Guess not. "She's young and I doubt she'll know what she's doing!" 'She'll'. So, she isn't the boss yet? Maybe the 'boss' doesn't know she's going to be the 'boss' because the old boss is still alive but is dying. I scratch my head with my still bandaged hands, confused. I really need to inferring things so deeply.

"Yes, she is young, and you have way more experience than she does. But you're getting older and weaker. Soon you won't be able to even stand on your own!" Mum rinsed her cup and leaned over the bench, resting her head on her hands.

"Are you saying that I can't defeat a naïve kid?!" His voice was so low and so dangerous, I backed up a little more into the darkness. I heard something crackle like electricity as mum shook her head violently.

"O-of course not! That would be absurd!" she stuttered. But she just said – you know what? Adults change opinions in a millisecond. "I'm just saying for you to be careful when she figures it out" I can't tell if she was genuinely worried, since she seems to never be genuinely worried about the kid in her house.

"When?" the stranger spat.

"No, I mean 'if'." See, didn't even take a millisecond. The crackling seems to subside, and everything went quiet. No one talked or moved or even breathed for a while. Did they figure out I was eavesdropping on them? I started to panic, but relief washed over me when the stranger got up from the chair and said, "Well, I had fun. I'll see you later."

Mum followed him out saying her goodbyes on the way. This was my chance to quietly escape to my room. Once inside, I collapsed on my desk chair, and let it spin me around and around. That was the weirdest conversation I have ever heard from adults. And they say kids are bad at conversations! I stayed there, staring at the ceiling for a while, when I heard footsteps on the staircase. She knows I'm here, but it was very quiet when they were talking, so I have to have been either sleeping or eavesdropping. And sleeping is the best option now. I looked at the bed and then to the door. The footsteps are coming closer, so by the time she opens the door the bed would squeal if I jumped onto it. The footsteps were right in front of the door, and I did the most uncomfortable thing: I sprawled against my desk chair, wincing as it activated pain on my still injured face and hands, and made sure I put some drool over my mouth. Then the door opened. And it closed just as soon. I didn't want to drop the act just yet, incase she's inside the room. But then I heard her footfalls disappear down the hallway. I wiped the saliva and exhaled. I was not caught. Hopefully, not ever. I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. A thunderstorm of thoughts were building up inside my head. Why didn't they want mum's boss to know about the stranger's business? What is his business? Is mum like a double agent or something? Questions flooded my brain, but one stood out painfully. Why didn't she wake me up and ask about the injuries? Did she care whether I got hurt or not? It stung like a knife in my heart.

At that hurts too much.


Oh my God! I hate the mother so much! But I am very sad that I won't be able to upload next week! 😭😭

I'm so so so so sorry! See you in the week after! 😪🖐🏼

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