Filicide

3 - Taiga

The morning went no more different than usual. Mazhun wakes me up, fails to decide on what to make for breakfast, we eat cereal or whatever's in the cabinet, and soon we're on our way to my school. My eyes never met those of my father, instead they drifted out to the silent winter passing outside. It was the middle of December, and you could really tell - the trees were skeletons of their summertime bloom, the skies grey and melancholy, the ground wet and muddy and covered in ice. We didn't really get much snow here, but it sure got cold enough to. There was some possible snow for later today, if I recalled correctly - maybe we could even get out of school. But I doubted it - it's not supposed to be more than an inch.

As we drove, I kept imagining what it would feel like if I still had siblings. I'd be in here with them - Marina and Tristan in 8th and 7th grade, respectively, and me still in 5th. Their school would've started fifteen minutes earlier than mine, so we'd all be out the door much earlier. We'd drive to the middle school, having fun and talking in the car like actual families. Maybe we'd be like the dog and her family on TV, on the show I like to watch. They seemed terrific - two parents who can tolerate each other's company and love their children, siblings who get along and play and do things that kids do. Playing games, having friends at school, not feeling like every day was a waste of your time. That bright, colorful world on the screen was all I've ever wanted. A family, a true, loving family.

Don't get me wrong, I do love Mazhun. He's my dad, after all. But... sometimes I don't feel like we have that sort of relationship. We don't have the connection of father and son. We're more like... related people who live in the same house. I know he cares about me, but it's hard to think of him as a caring person when it seems he cares about nothing but the past. I didn't blame him for missing Marina and Tristan, but I knew there was no chance they were coming back. They're dead, after all. The dead don't come back.

I was barely a few months old when Marina died, but I was maybe one or two when Tristan did. I didn't remember it well. I didn't see it happen. I was on the playground with him, and Mazhun was on the bench, as usual. I remember Tristan was talking to some kids much older than him, which I thought nothing of. I just kept playing in the mulch and climbing up the slide or whatever I was doing on a playground at that age. But in the blink of an eye, there were red and blue flashing lights flooding my vision, Mazhun was hugging me close, and I just... don't ever remember seeing him again. Was Mom there? I don't know. Maybe she was. Mazhun never talked about her, but I knew it was somehow her fault that Marina died. Maybe she caused Tristan to die, too. It would make sense - that's why she left, I think. Some people took her away to a place they could help her at some point, Mazhun had once told me. She was sick, and that's why Marina died. Was the disease she had catchable? Is that why Marina died?

My thoughts were becoming too much. I shook them away. The car stopped, and I began to grab my backpack. Mazhun looked at me in the mirror and gave me a very obviously forced smile.

"Have a good day, Taiga," he said. He sounded sad. He was always sad, though. I nodded, barely looking at him as I hopped out and found my way to the front doors of the school.

There were two teachers on drop-off duty, both of which I recognized. The PE teacher, Mr. Whelms, and my social studies teacher, Mrs. Garrett. They were both making sure no kid wandered off as their parent or guardian drove away and saying "Hello, good morning" to most kids who passed. You could tell who the troublemakers were, because sometimes they'd add a cautionary warning or remark. My favorite so far that day was "Jeffery, make sure you leave your bug friends outside this time."

Mrs. Garrett smiled sweetly at me as I passed. "Good morning, Taiga."

"Hi." I kept my head mostly to the ground as I greeted her back. She didn't ask me to look up or anything, just moved on to the next kid. Good. I'd learned at this point that if I kept my head down, no one would notice me (except the teachers, of course. They must have really good eyesight).