Filicide

1 - Mazhun

Light.

Light hit my retinas, beams assaulting my eyes and forcing me to close them again. My ears were filled with a high-pitched, annoying beeping, specifically coming from my right. I lay there, staring at the white ceiling absently. I felt nothing. I didn't want to feel anything. It was cold. Bright. And that was the only thing I found positive in that moment.

Eventually I pushed myself to get up. My hand found the button on the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand next to my bed. A click, and the beeping stopped. 6:50 AM. I should get ready, or Taiga'll be late. And so will I.

Quickly I changed my clothes, got ready, and left my room. The hall, having no windows in it, was darker. Muted hues of blue and grey found my eyes as I continued on my way and knocked on one of the four doors in the short hall.

"Taiga?" My voice was a bit hoarse, and I cleared my throat subsequently.

No answer. I figured he was still sleeping, so I stepped inside. Sure enough, a lump sat on the bed on the far side of the room, a wreck of black hair the only thing showing from underneath the light grey covers draped over it. I carried myself across the room, my eyes not leaving the bed as I knelt down slightly. I put my hand on his shoulder and shook him slightly, just enough to jostle him from dreams.

"Taiga, wake up," I whispered. "Time for school."

After a few moments, Taiga shifted his position to face me. Bright blue eyes stared at me through half-closed eyelids, pupils contracted as light shone into them. My gaze couldn't help but falter as I saw them, but I immediately found them again and smiled slightly.

"Good morning."

"Hi." Taiga's voice was sleep deprived, despite me knowing for a fact he went to bed at 8, like he always does.

I stared at him a moment, contemplating asking him. But I didn't, resorting to only saying, "Get ready for school. I'll make some breakfast."

"Okay." Taiga blinked, yawning as he got up. I gave him a light shoulder pat and walked out of his disorganized, yet mostly empty room, continuing through the living room and into the kitchen.

Somehow, even in the fifteen minutes it took for Taiga to get ready, I couldn't figure out what to make. However, Taiga wasn't offended or mad. He just looked around, figured out I wasn't going to be any help in sustenance, and got a box of cereal from the cabinet. I just followed his lead, making myself a bowl as well.

Silence. That's how most mornings went along. After waking him up, we barely speak a word, even as we dump our bowls in the sink, Taiga grabs his backpack, and we walk out to my car.

Silence, ever silence. It sustained itself as I drove down the road. My hands gripped the wheel tightly, as if any less pressure would send us crashing into the ditch. I focused on nothing except the concrete road ahead and under the tires, each bump in the road, each change of the wind against the metal sides of the car. I didn't need to focus on anything else - I saw Taiga's eyes drifting distantly out the window at the passing scenery. He's not much of a talker.

It wasn't too long before I dropped Taiga off at school and I was on my way to work. It was about a ten minutes' drive, and I pulled in at about 7:30. The sun was up, but fiery orange still set the horizon ablaze. It went along with the bright yellow logo mounted above the doors, the golden semicircle with rays that bloomed like petals. The words "Sunrise Coffee" were mounted beneath, fading from gold to a scarlet orange. By the time I'd clocked in and joined my other coworkers to start the day, the embers in the sky had died and were replaced by a crisp blue, splashed with bursts of grey and white fluffy clouds.