INIQUITOUS

CHAPTER XXIII

Reality didn't appear real. It was like someone with grubby hands had cut out blurred figures and stuck them on landscapes that were made out of murky dark colours and looming shadows. Hands that were none too gentle peeled me away from the scene like I was a sticker and undecided with what to do with me, kept me floating mid-air, holding me by a heavy arm. I was a fly on the wall, listening in. Nothing seemed to click with me. It was white noise in my ears and dim outlines that moved in and out of focus. I couldn't concentrate. There was a mental blockage in my headspace, a brick that filled up space and refused to budge for new thoughts to appear. It sat in my skull, heavy and weighing down on me. The brick fell through my skull like my insides were made of goo, passed between my constricting ribcage and settled in my stomach.

I was disassociating from the grave situation. The taller officer was speaking. His words were a vague and insistent buzz in the air, a nuisance. The expressions on their faces were sympathetic and grim. Their pity was almost as suffocating as my brother's grief. Eton's cries shattered my glass bubble, ruining my illusion and enveloping me in his asphyxiating fog of hopelessness. My chest tightened.

Mom wasn't de – she couldn't be...it wasn't... My temples were beginning to ache, a slow thud of pain that resonated in my skull. An antsy itch ran over my skin. Mimicking the lightening that ran across the ill-lighted sky, I shot straight through the front door. I took to the stairs two at a time, the steps seemed never ending, stretching out ahead of me torturously. Reaching the top of the landing should've been a blessing. It wasn't. The white door to her bedroom smacked against the wall. The room was pitch black, the curtains drawn. It didn't occur to me to reach for the light switch.

I was in a frenzy, yelling. "Mom? MOM!" I tore her covers from her bed, they didn't seem to want to leave my grip, clinging on and I batted them away, finally reaching a cold and empty mattress. It was a couple of seconds of realisation and slowly-dying desperation that I began to comprehend Mom wasn't here. I stared down at the mattress, my gaze blurry with falling tears, and then I collapsed on the bed. I howled in misery and despair, fist slamming against the mattress, bellowing for her as if she'd materialised out of thin air. "MOM! MOM!" My roar matched the storm.

Arms wrapped around me. "Calla, stop," Eton begged, his voice thick. "Please, stop."

"No, NO!" I bellowed, trying to fight him. My words blurred into one another and my limbs hung limply by my side and I wept onto his shoulder. "Mom's gone. Mom is gone." I could hardly breathe. It was difficult trying to drag oxygen into my lungs. It hurt. My chest hurt. I wanted to die. I couldn't deal with it. The pain was unbearable.

My shrieks turned into sobs. "I want Mom back, Eton. I can't do this. I want Mom." I choked on my sorrow. My head was on fire. I had the worst headache. Breathing was difficult. My throat hurt.

Eton's nails dug into my skin. His breathing was harsh and shaky. "The officers are downstairs. I need to go talk to them. I'll be back. Calla? I'll be back." He eased me away from him, standing up.

"I want Mom."

"I know, I ..." his expression was torn, eyes red, grief-stricken. He wiped his tears angrily, determined. "I'll be back, Calla." He promised and left the room. Through the slit between the door and the wall, I saw Eton falter at the end of the hallway, he looked like he was going to collapse any second now, and he gripped the banister for support. He was in despair. He straightened up and straightened his expression. Composed. Impassive. Poker-faced. He disappeared down the staircase.

Mom's pillow smelt of her. Soft citrusy washing up powder. The smell of old clothes. And something that couldn't be described, that belonged to her, which I'd know in an instant wherever I go. I was even more so distressed than before. I couldn't wait up for Eton. I clutched her pillow to my chest, breathing her in. I couldn't stop weeping and I was thankful for the relief sleep brought to me.

***