~Red Moon~

~Ch. 2~

Chapter 2

"She trusted, believed, put her faith in it. What no one realised was how broken that could make her. Guilt weighs you down more than anything else, and she cracked, under the pressure, under the eyes of everyone she ever loved. One last time..."

My throat burned as I took in my surroundings slowly, a pounding headache abusing my temples. The drug's sweet smell had imprinted itself in me, the phantom scent still encasing me.

I turned to look around, attempting to get up, my legs giving way almost immediately, along with the fact that my feet had been shackled together clumsily.

How long had I been out?

That's when I remembered who did all of this, who drugged me on my literal birthday, the one special day.

Mom... why...? Is she gonna come check on me...? Does she even care?

❦ --- ❦

As if she could hear my thoughts, her figure entered the room a minute later, her silhouette casting a shadow on the sliver of sunlight I had available through the cracks of the window. The tears were already forming in my eyes, the more I thought about what my own mother had done to me. The overwhelming feeling of betrayal drowned me as I made eye contact with her for the first time.

A cold, stony look had taken over her once kind & soft face. I barely recognized her as she approached me. She was a ghost inside, no love or emotion left behind. What happened? Had I been out that long or had she been acting for the past 17 years?

I shook my head lightly, coughing from inhaling the thin dust layer that had settled itself all over the miniscule room. All that was placed in here was the rickety chair I was currently resting on, if you could even call it that. My arms were twisted in the weirdest way possible, with messy knots keeping them from moving. My legs had minimal restraints, with more raggedy knots binding them together loosely.

"You will listen to me carefully, because I will not, under no circumstances, repeat myself, got that, brat?" My mom spat, abruptly pulling me out of my trance with a harsh tone.

I nodded carefully, staying silent as a means to not upset her any further than she already seemed to be.

"Use your words, enough of the attitude!" Her voice echoing in the small room.

"Y-yes... I understand, Mom," I said, choking on the last word, barely recognizing the woman standing before me.

"Good, now I don't care what you do, but if I hear even a peep out of you, I will not hesitate to use this," she said, pulling out what looked like a designer bag at first, before the shape quickly morphed into a clearer image, an image of a gun.

As if all the oxygen in the air disappeared, I struggled to breathe in, my eyes stuck in horror on the gun.

With that, she grabbed my hands roughly, shoving them into some sort of box with holes cut out to my wrists' size, locking them in and nearly cutting off my circulation, before proceeding to place a head contraption of sorts.

"W-What is this?" I asked frantically, knowing my mom had always been the experimental type, although I guess I couldn't go off of previous knowledge given how much she had changed in the past 24 hours.

The reticence that followed my question added on to the uneasy feeling in my stomach, not reassuring me in the slightest. She continued fiddling with the headset, tightening it, nearly crushing my skull with the pressure.

"Mom, what is going on? What're you gonna do to me?" I questioned in a slightly incredulous tone, getting annoyed at the silent treatment I was receiving.