She sat on the bunked, crouched over, back touching the ceiling. It was uncomfortable, but she doesn't care. The morning sun streams in through the cracks in the closed curtains, catching the dust in its rays.
She runs her hand over the sheets, smoothing out the wrinkles. Her brow furrows, and roughly she tugs on the sheet. It can't be perfect, she thinks, because if it were it would just add to her worry. Neither child would make their bed. Neither bed would have perfect sheets.
If she left the mess were it was she could believe, just for a moment, that her children were just in the next room, playing on their fathers computer, or feeding the cat. Anywhere but that world.
It was hard to believe, at first, that what he had said was true. After all, children liked to make up worlds and fairy tales. But, that orange monster, Agumon, she thinks he called it, was the proof she needed.
This world that he spoke of, this world that the children had been living in for god knows how long, was in danger. She thinks that said world can go save itself. After all, what world, what being, would ask grade school children to save their entire world?
She knows her son, knows he won't step down from a challenge. And this, she thinks, is what had made her let him go. After all, he was stubborn as well, and she knew, no matter what she said, he would go.
But, she never suspected her daughter would be dragged in to the mess as well. She was always so sick. She knows her children though, and she knows Taichi will protect her, but she still worries. She knows all the other parents worry as well.
He explained to her, that really, he wouldn't be gone long. That he would be back in a day or so. Probably even less than that. But, where he was, it would be much, much longer.
She goes through their things, never tidying anything. Just looking. Touching. Taking everything in. She cries. She knows her children could get hurt, could die. She sobs in to their pillows, clutching them for dear life.
She cries, because that's all she can do.