I went into Momma's room, just to check on her.
She was still sleeping, as was Akash. I bit my lip. Today was going to be the day we left.
I gently nudged Momma awake. Her eyes fluttered open.
"Hm?" she mumbled.
"Momma, we have to leave," I said, my voice shaking with urgency.
"Wha?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. Her cheek sported an ugly redness because of Seiji.
"We can't stay here, Seiji's gotten out of control. Who knows what he'll do next, Momma? We have to go; you and I," I responded, my breathing increasing in speed as I awaited an answer.
But Momma was silent. Her eyes were pointed down at the ground. Slowly, she lifted her head.
"Akira, my bright light, we cannot leave," she simply stated. My mouth dropped to the floor. How could she? Had my mother gone mad?
"What?" I panicked, my breathing increasing in speed. What was happening?
"Seiji needs us now more than ever. He has done some questionable things, but…but I still love him," Momma responded.
"What is wrong with you? Seiji is insane! We have to leave, you and I, we have to! Momma, things must, they must go back to the way they were. Please, Momma, I'm begging-"
"NO!" my mother shouted, her hand raised as if to slap me. Her breathing had become heavy as well. I sat in silence, shocked. "We are NOT leaving, do you understand me?" Viciousness clouded her eyes.
Momma had only gotten mad at me like that once before.
Growing up, I was always a quiet girl. Nothing really made me shout or cry or throw tantrums. But one day, there was an incident.
It was when I was five years old, and we were living alone. It was when things used to be normal. When things used to be happy.
It had happened in the morning. I didn't yet understand the dangers of the world. So, I had tiptoed outside.
And as soon as I felt the air chill my face, I ran.
I ran around and around in circles, giggling excitedly, basking in my newfound freedom.
Then, I heard a Satomobile. It was a bright red Satomobile, and in it were three men.
The Triple Threat Triads.
Smirking, they made their way over to me; one of the men had a flame in his hand.
I froze with fear.
Suddenly, I heard a scream. It was Momma's.
She burst out through the laundry shop and grabbed me up into her arms. Holding me tight, she ran into the laundry shop and bolted the door shut behind us. We hid upstairs as the men wrecked the shop and took all the money from the jar on the counter.
After they left, Momma looked at me, a ferocity in her eyes that I had never seen before.
"LOOK WHAT YOU DID!" she screamed, her hand whipping rapidly across my face. I began to cry. Momma grabbed me by the shoulders.
"I COULD HAVE LOST YOU!" she yelled. I began sobbing at that point.
Then, she reverted to her old self and began comforting me, hushing me, telling me everything was going to be alright.
But I hadn't cried because of those men. No.
I had cried because I had never been afraid of my mother before.
When a mother wants to protect her child, she will do anything.
And suddenly, I knew.
I knew why she wanted to stay.
If we left, we would have nowhere to go, we would be on the streets. Momma wouldn't be able to protect me on the streets.
In other words, I couldn't convince her.
Not now, not ever.