Mara
I see an elderly man approaching me. Half his jaw is hanging open, so I assume he's in great danger. With my medical knowledge, which I think is super advanced for a 16-year-old, he's about to have something bad related to the heart. I walk closer to him until I'm standing just meters away from him. Trying tp save someone's life, I open my mouth, but before I can say anything, someone else says the exact same words for me.
"Mister, I'll call the ambulance. You're in serious danger," a blonde middle-aged man who standing next to me says. He has a smartphone in his hand, the emergency number already dialed. This guy knows what he's doing. I allow myself to slowly walk backwards to get out of the way. All this just for the elder to stay quiet. He's staring straight into the blonde's soul without saying a single word. When the younger man lifts his phone and it starts ringing, the elder's jaw opens and closes in a flash, displaying an extreme act of violence. Soon, there's a deep, bloody bite mark man's upper arm and the elder's mouth is covered in his blood and flesh. The mark is so deep I'm wondering how the guy's arm is still attached.
If this is his way of saying 'get an ambulance for yourself, motherfucker', it does deliver the words without having to stay them. Cruel, but the most ironically comical use of violence I've seen. Wait—the guy is bleeding, damn it! I need to do something! But as soon as the biter approaches me too, I just check myself out of the situation not to get bitten. I take my legs to a run towards home. My heart is pounding until I look behind. Damn, he's slow. The man was trying to follow me, but was failing miserably. He couldn't reach my walking speed.
Finally, I arrive back home. I was trying to forget my problems on that walk, yet I seemed to gain more during it. How ironic. I tried to forget things with a walk, but now I want to forget the walk. The bites I've seen are making me have delusions about being in some fantasy show. But monsters aren't real, right? That's what I've been told since I was a little kid and said I saw a ghost in the backyard. Maybe I'm going crazy, but I'm stating to believe they exist again. Well, most likely I really am going crazy. I take off my jacket and hang it, finally.
I peek around the house. After that walk, I'm now observing my mother more closely. She's still in the kitchen, still trying to cook, but much quieter than she was before I left. Her hands are moving slowly. Perhaps to make less mistakes with the hot food. Perhaps she's just tired. I'm just now noticing the dark eyebags under her eyes. She looks like she hasn't slept for weeks.
Once I fully go into the kitchen, I witness her dropping the ketchup bottle. It splashes on the checkered floor tiles, creating an odd pattern. When she bends down to pick it up, her hand suddenly stops moving, and she'd unable to do so. She stays there for a moment before finally giving up. I decide it's a good time for me to ask her what really happed. She'll give an honest answer if she has finally given up on insisting she's fine.
"Are you okay?" I ask her again. The same question plays, but in different situations. I'm expecting her to respond like she usually does.
"It's just," she starts by saying, but stops to look at her stiff hands. "It's fine," she says. I can sense it's not what she really wants to say. It's not fine. Everything I've gotten for an answer consists 'fine'. It's way too repetitive and defensive to be genuine. This is starting to get too predictable. If crying inside could be seen clearly from the outside, I can see her face twisting into a look of it. If it's not possible to see, I don't know what it is. Extreme sadness, maybe? Recognizing emotions can be tricky, and I want to solve every tricky puzzle I find. But not now. She's not ready to tell the truth yet so I would rather not bother myself with this right now.
I sigh and go back to my room, shoulders slumped. I won't tell mother about those bites, because she got a similar one on her arm at work, and I won't risk making things worse. I flop into bed and here comes the cycle of overthinking... Or does it? Bitch, I'm deciding to be free from the rat race of a lifestyle I have! I'm sure it's the same things I do everyday that drain life out of my life. Well, if you don't count everything that has happened to me, it's true. I do absolutely nothing with my life. All I do every damn day is lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.
I finally get up and look around. The box of my old things that I didn't want to sell when I was eight is still lying under my desk. Great, some nostalgia could brighten up my mood! I move a toy car aside and notice something. My first ever cellphone, a Nokia phone I haven't touched half my life. These things have an insane battery durability, and probably has also been dropped a lot.
It still turns on, even with years of no use behind. I press the messages button, and see most of my relatives names and old phone numbers. I click down a few times, and my heart sinks down when I recognize a name. Oliver. My only friend ever, who probably has already forgotten me. I click his contact to reveal the messages with him. It's like two best friends talking to eachoter. She scrolls down to the bottom and notices the ones that were sent before he moved out.
Oliver: U promise u are still my friend when I'm gone?
Mara: Ok can you visit me soon?
Oliver: Im in the car so no.
Mara: If I come there can you show me your drawings?
Oliver: My hand hurts real bad. I can't draw.
Mara: Oh.
Oliver: I had a dream where I couldn't move but i was awake. It was so scary. What if one day you can't wake up but you're still there?
Mara: Oh no that's so scary!
Oliver: mom said I can come over. I'm gonna text you when I get there ok?
Mara: Don't forget me or I'll be mad. I'm serious don't forget me.
Oliver: i won't.
Mara: Are you there?
Mara: My mom said we can visit u next summer.
Mara: Hello??
I can feel my eyes watering as I finish reading the messages. I'll never know if he's alright. I send him a final message: "Hello". I have no hope for answer.