Closer to Mom

Big Fishes Carnival at The Lake -  Closer to Mom

Ethan was baffled. The pattern of the black lines shining from the box of light, much like cracks on a porcelain, was something that the human mind cannot comprehend, or so he thought, for he was human and he did not have a single clue as to why modern physics are getting closer to abstract than technical. A few clicks, a few scribbles, sighs, repeat. As the crescent moon finally began to descend from the throne of stars, Ethan finally dropped the piece of paper in his hand and concluded that, somewhat like promises, some homework are meant to be left undone.



The two hands that never tire showed Ethan that the yesterday was only yesterday for 2 minutes, yet the thought of it alone sends down chill down his spines. It has been three months since the module deprived him of his usual 11 o'clock lights out rule, yet staying up late like the adults he saw in the television never failed to make Ethan feel like one. He was, at least to himself, a grown man.

As a grown man, he was free to do what he desired. Playing computer games, choosing his own breakfast, you name it. Yet with all this freedom that at some point was heavy, he chose to give it up to write a song; a melodic poem that would serve as the soothing melody to no one but him. He picked up his guitar, closed his eyes for inspiration, and a moment later, started singing as if no one else was there.

"But, no one else is here..."

Ah, my apologies; that was uncalled for. Yes, no one but the singing Ethan was there, and thus he had been able to release his anger, his emotion, his sadness, although nothing of the sort was actually raging inside him. He loved the drama, that was all.

"Hey," Ethan whispered, to which none answered.

He sighed, for once again the silence told him that he was alone; that this is a story about him and him alone. He had had such nights, starting from the first day that he spent alone. You could say that it was hard for a seventeen-year-old to live alone, not pragmatically but emotionally. Even as the title 'The Toughest', that came from his friends, was inscribed behind his back, the pain of loneliness and losing someone important was unbearable. So for that first night, he shed the first of his tears, tears that I could do nothing but stare at and let roll.

"One," he uttered a number, without a context. "..tears that 'one' could do nothing but stare at and let roll," he continued, now with a little bit of fear; his hands shivering, his voice lower. As we know, fear had its tricks to drive people to do crazy things, and fear was he in, and thus senseless was his words. At the realization of his own madness he sighed. He dropped the guitar and change into pajamas, quickly lying down on his bed where he was most comfortable. Next to him then was a frame of two: himself and a woman he did not recognize.

"I miss you, mom," he whispered, truly not onto the frame, "so don't mess up."

As he gently touched the photograph another of those tears roll down his cheeks, sending him back to the memory of three months ago. He perfectly knew the 12 November three months ago, was the day the woman died. He was also perfectly aware that 12 November was the first dawn that he did not spend with his mother. Yet it was but coincidence, not in any way correlation let alone causation.

"Isn't it funny - I thought you'll be back soon.."

The grown man Ethan had had his share of bizarre experience for the last three months. One of the most nonsensical (and perhaps memorable) was one when he met this one masked lady. She promised him that his mom would return soon, and the proceed to try to explain why. Pulling out a shiv from her pocket, the masked lady stabbed a cat nearby, and that sent Ethan to a shock. The cat was dead. However, with a few gesture from the masked lady, the cat was lively after a short moment. The scarred Ethan could not help but believe that his mother will return, with the help of this lady. For such a miraculous trick, the price the lady named was something that Ethan could not understand: 'sanity'. Little did Ethan know that the cat was..

He had been waiting for his mother, while living a normal life during the day. He had been told that if he could maintain his sanity until his mother's return, that would be the end of this nightmare - things would go back to normal. Little did he understand about the word, so Ethan only knew that he had to be strong. However, even the strongest bark may break, and hence there was the tough Ethan, hugging his pillow, crying as if there was no one else. There was no one else, but how I wish that I could be there and wipe those tears. I had spent nights watching him cry everyday, and I'm tired of it. Of this play. Of this nonsense.

Ethan was a good kid. He didn't deserve any of this.

Ethan, I'm here. Don't cry, Ethan. I'm here.

"Mom, don't!"

Ethan, my child.