Ivy Bathory

[12] : Mummy's waiting.

"Don't hold me like I'm fragile...
You'll never break me if you try..."

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Ivy's POV

"Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Would you like me to bring something for--"

"No."

Aunt Mary sighed. I watched from the corner of my eyes as she shifted on the bed nervously. The tight office uniform held her mercilessly, shaping out the beautiful curves that adorned her body. She pulled her hair up into a strained ponytail using the mud brown string in her hand.

"Are you sure?" Her voice worriedly reached me. "It's been a whole day and a half since you...uh, you know."

Almost killed a person. Again. Yeah, I know.

My face remains smashed against the fluffy pillow as I continue my usual routine of staring at the air motes dancing in the sun rays that streak into the room. Emotionless.

"And how about school?" Mary stands gently, patting invisible dust off her skirt. She tries to peer at me by rounding her head in my direction. "Should I inform Mr. Vincent you won't be showing up for classes?"

I blink slowly. "Mr. Vincent..." It takes me awhile to remember my goofy math teacher "...yes. I might not be reporting back any soon."

She sighs again in defeat. Her woody brown eyes turn to gaze at the door for a split moment before returning to my unlively form. "How long will this last?"

"I almost killed Chris." My voice comes out a bit to harsh, I try calming down by drawing in a long breathe. "So forgive me if I want to take some time off and self evaluate a couple of my life choices, Mary."

Her mouth parts a little at the brutality with which I spoke. She frowns. "I was just worri--"

"Two weeks. Maybe one. I'm not sure."

I veer my head to look in the other direction, away from her.

"Okay then." Her footsteps match towards my bedroom door, then the sound of a lock clicking. "In case you need anything or probably any emergencies, you can call me. Or your teacher. I'll leave his number on the fridge."

I hum in approval and try to sink into the white comfy duvet, welcoming the vanilla and coconut scent to my nostrils. The door shuts two minutes later.

I hadn't been able to sleep for the past twenty four hours. All I'd done was lay awake in bed and watch dirt motes swim in the sun. I couldn't do a thing. Not because I didn't want to or I was too lazy to act on anything. I just felt tired. Utterly tired and exhausted of everything. When I'd woke, I'd been informed that Chris had apparently decided to move out and find herself somewhere else to spend the night. It didn't work on my side since I still hadn't finished our earlier conversation that kept replaying and scratching the edges of my mind.

I wanted to crawl into a rotting cave and die. But the world didn't offer me the relief of death, it never did. So maybe I could somehow be frozen or sculpted into stone. Anything to stop me breathing without my will. My insides kept twisting and coiling, gagging. The thought of Mary walking out that door and never coming back did wonders to my emotions.

Maybe that's why I almost killed Chris. Maybe that's why I kept feeling this way.

Was Chris actually telling the truth when she said Mary was in danger?

I can't lose another mother.

Not the one who actually stayed beside me even when she had the opportunity to run and never look back. Not the one who stood beside me as I registered into middle and high school.