Fourteen Moons

Chapter 5 - Old Dream

Drip. Drip. A steady trickle of water makes its presence known as the rain leaks through a crack in the roof. A damp, musky odor radiates from the wet boxes and spoiled trash covering the floor. Tiny bugs crawl over the rubbish and scatter throughout the area. Dim light barely illuminates the room to give it a dark, dreary atmosphere.

Where am I? Drip. I look around the disgusting room and hear the light patter of the rain against the roof. Carefully avoiding the garbage that litters the ground, I walk toward the dim light and a doorway appears in front of me. Drip. I see a woman with large blue eyes and a round face covered in layers of thick cosmetics. Shoulder-length, wavy, blonde hair is forcefully brushed to the side. Her slender figure, modest bust, and long limbs are accentuated by her worn, ragged, red dress.

"Mom?" I murmur, "I thought-" I turn my back on her and peer at the trash ridden floor. Drip. Right, she left me. She didn't want me. She-

Suddenly, I feel cold hands creep over my shoulders and down my arms, the nails lightly digging into my skin. Drip. Her chin rests on my shoulder as I hear her whisper, "What's wrong sweetie? You promised you'd do this for me."

Drip. My heart starts to pound and goosebumps race across my body. "P-promise?" I stutter, "What promise?" Drip.

"You don't remember? You're going to hurt my feelings," Mom purrs into my ear. She leans in close, until her mouth is less than an inch away, and hisses, "But you wouldn't do that. You love your mom after all."

Drip. I turn to her, the entirety of her eyes are a deep black, as if swallowed by the endless abyss. The hammering in my chest grows more intense as a cold sweat starts to form on my skin and my breathing becomes haggard. Drip. "I do- did but..." I hesitate. Drip.

"Come now sweetie," Mom continues as she tugs on my arms, "An old friend is waiting for you in the next room." Drip. A friend? Wait. I scan the room once more, taking in the details of the house. This is... was our house. I look up at Mom's unnaturally-wide, unnerving smile as she pulls me toward another, new, door. Drip.

"Mom. Wait," I state. I try to free my arms from her grasp. Wait, why can't I move? "No, I don't want to see Mister Lente."

Mom freezes. A sharp, eerie aura descends upon the room. Then, she turns around, her smile now stretched into a terrifying grin that disfigures her face. Her squinted, void-stained eyes pierce my soul as she tightens her grip on my wrist. "You don't want to help your mom?" Her voice is now distorted into a shrill, ominous shriek, "I thought you loved your mom?"

My rough breathing rapidly increases as I feel myself gasping for air. My heart slams itself against my chest as if it is trying to break free from my body. "Mom, let me g-" Mom's hands flash from my wrist to my throat before I can finish, " -Ach..." Why? Why can't I move? She lifts me up and carries my limp form through the doorway to a pitch black room.

As I weakly gasp for air, a light flicks on, revealing a heavy metal chair in the middle of the room. It has dark, unhooked clasps where the arms, legs, and head rest. Adjacent to the chair is a small table with various tools, and a few jars, atop it. Standing between the chair and table is an old, worn, and battered man. He has a slim body and thin face, with skin that is sucked in, exposing his boney features. He has a balding head with knife-like ears. His narrowed eyes are completely devoid of color and hidden behind round glasses. He is dressed in a white gown, has gloves on his hands, and is wearing a white mask over the lower half of his face. His gaze immediately snaps to me.

"Ah, welcome," Mister Lente's hoarse voice croaks monotonously, "You're such a good brat for helping your mom like this." No... I don't want this. I want to leave.