IX. Late Night Gamers
1090 Words
"Please, have you seen my daughter?"
Slowly, I look up to see my mom, skinnier than ever. The light inside her eyes was hollow, colorless. She rushes around, handing out papers.
"Mom!" I screamed, but she continued ignoring me.
I rush to the other side of the street, and my legs halt at the sound of a car honk. I turn my head to see a car speeding towards me. My eyes automatically shut to get ready for the impact. But, nothing. I open my eyes to see the car on the other side of the street.
I look down at my trembling hands and exhale a deep breath. What happened? The winds rustle across the trees, but my hair heavily lays on my shoulders. Not a single movement.
One massive step after another, I rush towards the sidewalk. "Mom!" I screamed, reaching out for her. She turns her body, and with a shaky hand, she hands out another piece of paper. Like a robot, she reacts mechanically, giving out a flier to each person passing by without a break. I stood in front of her, screaming: "Mom! Look at me! I'm here!"
She turns her head once more and ignores me.
The wind blew across her oily uncombed hair, revealing puffy red eyes, and the fliers in her hand flew away. It scattered all over the road, drifting into the distance. I tried to capture the breaths that continuously escaped my lungs, but it wouldn't stay. Inhalation. Exhalation. It came in shallowness. I walk over to one of the papers, to see a picture-
Of me.
Have you seen my daughter?
Raine Fall
Age 16
Please contact 854-XXX-XXX if you saw her.
My eyes went back up towards the woman, who rushed around to collect the fliers. She dropped to her knees to gather the papers—a madwoman in a ruthless world. Steadily, the tears drip down her hollow cheeks, past her pale lips. She lifted the papers and held it close to her trembling chest.
A man passes by and grabs one of the papers on the ground. He exhaled and shook his head. "Poor woman, she had been out here passing fliers for the last three weeks trying to find her daughter."
"Such a pity. The daughter looks like a beautiful girl too."
"I heard the truck that got her daughter fell into the ocean."
"Why is she still out here then?"
"They said when they found the truck. The back door broke open, so some of the girls' bodies got lost."
"Then, how do you know her daughter was in there?"
"They found pictures of the girls in the back of the truck inside the glove compartment."
"Ah," the woman nods, "How tragic. The world can be a scary place."
The sky roars, and drops of rain poured down. Everyone was rushing around trying to find shelter, everyone except my mom. She sat there and with mountains of wet fliers in her arms. Mindlessly, she stared at the single picture in front of her. "Raine. Where are you?"
I kneel in front of her. "Mom, I'm right here."
She reached for the picture and ran her hand across it. It was the last photo we took together, the one before we went on the hike.
"Mom, look at me." Gently, I lift a trembling hand only to pass her red cheek.
"Raine."
"I'm right here."
"Are you eating?"
"Yes."
"Are you well?"
"Yes."
"Are you sleeping well?"
"No. I miss you."
Those are the questions she usually asked me whenever I went back to boarding school.
"Can you tell mom where you are?"
"Mom!" I shriek from the top of my lungs. "I'm right here!" I hit my chest a few times. "I'm in front of you!"
She leans against the pool, "Raine, my baby, where are you?" And then it happened in a motionless state. I watched. I watched my mom's eyes, and then I knew. She's tired. Much too tired to cry. And yet, the tears stream down. She breathes real slowly, but each breath got harder, shorter.
I hate it.
The feeling of hopelessness.
"Mom, I'm right here!"
The thunder cracks.
"Mom! Look at me! Your Raine is right here!"
The rain pours.
"MOM!"
It drowns out the cries.
"MOM!"
The cry of a daughter for her mother.
"MOM!" I jolted up from the bed, sweats pouring down my body, soaking my bed as the tears refused to stop rolling. "Mom." I curl into a ball. A low muffled cry broke out, images of my mom handing out fliers refused to leave my mind.
Inhaling a sharp breath, I stood up and went to the kitchen for water. Wiping the tears off, I laid on the couch and turned on the gaming station - my escape from the pain.
I lay the glass down when I saw a familiar name.
Online: IamtheAlphaBtches.
A message pops on the screen: 'Turn on your speaker.'
I grab the headset and turn on the speaker.
"Why are you awake this late?" I like it. Wolfie's voice. It's soothing.
We start a game, "I can't sleep."
"Is it another nightmare?" he asked, shooting a random player.
"Yeah," I responded. I shot another player and gave myself a high five in progress.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No. Not really."
"Are you sure? I promise not to make fun of you."
I smile.
"For f**k sake! Why do you two always do this! This is the place to shoot heads off, not flirt!" a random voice shouted.
"Yeah! If you two want to have a romantic midnight talk, get the f**k out of here!" Another voice screamed.
"Oh f**k no, bitches," we said at the same time.
And it was wartime.
Three hours' worth of war.
"We own your ass!" I screamed into the headset. I can hear other player grumblings in complaint or cursing words at us.
"Good job, partner."
I yawn, "I know."
Peeking at the clock, I realized it was 3:45 am. This is a bad habit, and I know it. I tried to go to sleep early because I have work tomorrow, but I guess I can pick up a cup of coffee instead. I scroll the arrow towards the log off button.
"Hey, Little Piglet?"
I stifled another yawn, "What is it?"
There was a long pause on the other side, and I can only hear the low music playing in the background that matches mine. "Want to exchange numbers?"
- Writer
