CHAPTER TWELVE
MALIA STARED INTO THE nothingness the house was surrounded with. The house and she were so similar in so many aspects, both empty, both blank and both yearning for the return of the youngest owner. Having not left her daughter's room in weeks had left her detached from reality. However, she did not mind, for what good was a reality if her daughter was not alive and breathing. Instead, her mind, numb from thinking about her actions in the past decided it was best to shut down. She watched as her hand aimlessly floated in the air, with no response from the brain. It was as if everything had a delayed response in her body. Having skipped meals and neglecting water, or any form of betterment had locked her in a closet of constant guilt and shame.
"Ms. Wilson," someone called out, but she did not look up.
Her eyes were focused on the popcorn ceiling above her, wondering how Venus slept peacefully in the same spot she was in months ago. She waited for the tears to come but they never did. The smell of fresh toast and eggs had alerted her mind, and in an instant, her stomach grumbled aching for one bite of food. Malia wondered if she deserved food. What mother deserves to eat when they're the reason for their child's death? She heard the hushed commands from servant to servant, before the scent of the food her body craved disappeared the second the door shut.
Once again she was left alone, again and again, how many more times could she survive being left alone?
"I miss you," she whispered out, begging for the tears to come so that she could allow her shoulders to relax.
Ever since she buried her daughter it was as if she had stopped knowing how to breathe. Each time she inhaled it was never enough as if she were drowning in her own sins and shortcomings. Her gaze drifted from the ceiling to the wall where there were stains on the pure white wall. Her eyes shut instinctively trying to imagine the party, trying to imagine her daughter getting dressed for her annual Halloween party. At the thought of Venus dressing herself Malia's eyes jolted open, her hands clenched then unclenched the fabric on her body that seemed to be suffocating her rather than protecting her nude body.
An ear-piercing scream rang throughout the room before reaching her ears once again forcing her to cover them with her cold and dainty hands. Her ragged breaths became more frequent as the unfamiliar stinging in her eyes failed to allow her to see clearly. Her eyes bounced from corner to corner as she got up on her knees looking around the blank wall, searching desperately for the one thing. To her dismay, there was nothing but blank walls, her past words ringing clear in her mind.
"Venus, you dare not put anything up on my walls, you get your own damn place and trash it however you like, but this is my house and you will follow my rules!"
"Why, why, why?" Malia's vocal cords were burned out at this point, her throat aching to the point where it was ready to fail her once she opened her mouth to talk.
Although, that did not stop her from letting out another frustrated scream. Her hands once again rose, but not to cover her ears from the sudden sound of her voice that had been absent for days on end, but to claw at the skin that seemed to confine her in a body she was suffocating in. Her sharp nails dug deep into her skin, forcing her to let out another scream except in response to the pain she was inflicting on herself. The pain she felt didn't alert her body to stop, you're hurting yourself, her body screamed but her mind finished the thought, good, a mother like you is a stain on motherhood.
"Ms. Wilson!" Multiple voices yelled in shock as unknown hands held her hands away from clawing out her own eyes that were forced to wake up to see yet another day where she couldn't see her daughter roll her eyes at her.
The same hands that stopped her from wanting to cover her ears forever because she could not hear her daughter's voice again.
"Let me go!" Her voice was that not of a human, it was the voice of someone that lost everything they thought they couldn't lose.
Malia Wilson was no longer a human, she was a ghost that wandered this planet longing for her daughter.
"I can't..." Was all she managed out over the voices that yelled above her.
All Malia could make out in her dazed state was that she was bleeding, perhaps that was what the metallic taste in her mouth was. Once they had successfully pinned her down she was forced to look at the ceiling once again. They talked around her in a hushed tone but Malia could not decipher a word, her mind only was capable of thinking one thing. One thing she tried so hard to voice, desperate for help. Her ego shriveled inside her, dying by the minute as it watched the once powerful business tycoon succumb to a casualty. Malia Wilson was no warrior, she was just a sheep in wolfs clothing.
"—My baby," it burned to talk, making her wonder if they could even hear her but she continued. "I don't know what she looks like," finally, the one thing she was waiting for had arrived. "What type of mother doesn't remember what her child looks like?"
One teardrop, two, and soon the tides of tears her body had refused to shed due to her ego controlling her were released. She was free. But did she want to be free?
"Ms. Wilson," the unnamed woman's tone was thick with pity and sympathy which made her skin crawl, her ego burned within her and Malia felt each and every bit, letting out a pained cry.
"Give me my baby back please," Malia begged, if she could she would interlace her fingers and fall to the ground ready to bow to whoever would bring her child back.
" — Ma'am, there's someone here for Ms. Wilson,"
"Can't you see she can't meet with anyone today," the woman hissed her grip on Malia dared not loosen afraid her boss would surely gouge out her eyes that were now adorned by scratch marks.
"He said — Sir!"
"Malia," a familiar voice said, and she couldn't help but snap out of her trance.
"You care more about your fucking drugs than you do about your own damn child!"
It didn't take long for the blood rushing through her body to begin to boil, as she struggled to be held down, refusing to look weak in front of the very man who ruined her life. She shot one look at the woman who held her down and her wrists were released. That one look could kill thousands. She knew what it meant, I am Malia Wilson, go against me and you surely won't live happily. Malia rose from the bed and blinked exactly four times not sure if the person who was standing in front of her was really there or if it were a figment of her imagination. She looked him up and down. He looked different in a business suit, he looked respectable, someone she wouldn't mind having dinner with.
"Mommy, daddy's friend always touches me in weird places..."
"Get out," her voice held no emotions, it was her eyes that did the talking for her. Filled with rage and disgust as she looked at the devil in human skin.
"Malia, please," he said, trying to force out emotions but Malia was not her past self, she could see a phony from miles away.
"Don't you dare say my name," her words were filled with venom, wanting nothing more than to strangle him then and there.
