Hush

Jackson and Beth are asleep when I slink through the front door. The wind groans against the shuttered windows. In my room, I set the photo down on my desk and flop onto my bed, studying my mother’s face. Curling into a ball, I try not to panic. Outside, a dog barks. I curl up tighter, trying to drown out any other noises. Images rush behind my eyes. Shadows. Strangers. They dart in the corners of my mind, even though I try to shut them out. I'm breathing heavy. My skin itches. It's cold, so cold. But maybe sleep will help. Maybe I won’t dream… I snap awake. Sitting up, I breathe deeply. Did I fall asleep? There's a tightness in my throat, like something's caught below my windpipe. I inhale and exhale, trying to get my bearings. And that’s when a faint whimper echoes down the hall. I slip out of bed, listening. After a moment, I walk cautiously down the hallway, the silence thick around me. Every now and then I'll hear that whimper and have to swallow the lump in my throat. "Beth?" Walking closer, I see the bathroom light is on. Jackson's bedroom door is open, but when I peek in the room, Jackson and Beth are sleeping, the sheets tangled between them. If they're here, then who's in the bathroom? I take a deep breath, walking towards the closed bathroom door. Slowly, I reach out a trembling hand. Easing the door open, my eyes widen. A strange woman in a ratty blue nightgown is by the sink. Her back’s to me, and she quakes violently, her shoulders shaking. “It's too much...too much," she says, the blood pooling and dripping off the counter. Her red fingers stain the porcelain. On her right hand a simple wedding ring wraps around her finger. And that's when I realize...I know that wedding ring. I know that ratty blue nightgown. "Mom...?" I whisper. At first, the woman doesn’t register that I’m there. My voice wavers. “Mom?” The woman reels around, startling me. Her face is matted with blood. It takes me a moment to realize that, yes, this is my mother, and yes, she is in pain, and yes, her eyes are gone. Her eyes are gone. Empty sockets stare back at me, gnarled optic nerves dangling down her cheeks. Her hands reach towards me. She holds small mangled orbs in her outstretched palms. Her eyes. She’s offering me her eyes. "It’s too much,” my mother says. “Too much.” I back up, the light in the bathroom blinding me. My mother comes closer. I stumble back. No escape. I’m moving so slowly, like I’m running through water. Run, Ange, run. And that's when I shoot up with a gasp. Sweating. Clutching my chest. Oh, God. It takes me a few seconds to realize I'm still in my bed and that it's morning. Two sparrows chirp outside the window on a lone tree branch. It was just a dream. Just a dream. Catching my breath, my eyes drift over to the mesh-wire trashcan where I’ve abandoned my empty prescription bottle. Is this how it's going to be? Are blood and death in my future? I pick up the photo of my mother. I never noticed it before, but there's something disquieting about how she's sitting. As if she's performing for the picture taker, for my father. It’s her eyes. Her eyes are full of fear. The realization that my mother is terrified in this photograph washes over me. My mother is afraid. She has no future. And I’m feeling more and more like her everyday. Maybe Jackson’s right. Maybe I do have to face my fears head-on. Prove once and for all that I’m my own person, and if not, if that doesn’t work, then take the money and run. I’ve taken care of a lot of my debt. If this elderly woman pays double our rate, my cut would last months. I could get out of here. Get away from Jackson. From home. Rubbing my face, I try to erase the image of my mother’s eyes and how they looked like bloody golf balls. Inanimate things. The sun trickles through the window, soft and bright. I pull the covers off the bed. My bare feet touch the hard floor. ~ I nudge Jackson’s bedroom door open. Don’t do it, a small voice whispers inside of me. Turn back. But I push that voice down, burying it deep within me. Beth blinks awake and sees me standing there. She pulls the sheets over her naked chest and nudges Jackson. "Babe..." she says, sleep in her voice. "Huh?" He yawns and wraps his arms around her. It's only when he opens his eyes that he sees me standing in the doorway. No more fear. No more hiding. "I'm in," I say.