"Mom?"
My daughter's sharp, energetic voice shocked me almost out of my chair: I dropped my book onto the table noisily and clapped a hand over my heart in shock.
"Oh, Kagome, please don't do that to me when I'm reading," I breathed, a little shaken. Reaching for my tea again with an unsteady hand, I kept my sights enamored on the delicate face in front of me. There was something wrong with this moment, it was just going to take a moment to decide what it was.
"Mom? Are. . . are you okay?" Kagome asked tentatively. She put a hand to my forehead, then to my cheek. Stepped back to look into my face while I just stared back at her. "You don't look all that well," she tutted, then turned and kneeled down to heave an enormous bag onto her back. "Well, I just wanted to tell you I'm off, Inuyasha wanted me back in the Feudal Era as soon as I could. Apparently he and the others got another rumor about another Jewel shard. . ." she walked off to the back door and pulled open the door, waving slightly to me over her shoulder, giving me a small smile. "Try and do something about your cold or whatever it is while I'm gone?"
"I will," I said softly to her, returning the smile weakly.
She gave me one more grin before climbing out the door and sliding it shut behind her. Not wanting to just lose her like this again, I stood suddenly and strode over to the window adjacent to the door. I pulled back the blinds with one hand as the other grasped the mug of tea like my very lifeline. . . and as I watched her leap so eagerly, so weightlessly into that well. . . I couldn't help but let a shuddering sob fall.
If only for one day, I wish I could actually understand my daughter's delirium.
Her behavior is just so strange. It feels like it always has been. . . at least since her fifteenth birthday, back almost three years ago now. And that feels like it's been forever. But still, I don't know what kind of a strange birthday present she had gotten that day. Maybe there had been a strange substance in something special she had eaten, or drunken. . . maybe she had really, really loved that jewel her grandfather had given her and really had been deeply traumatized when she had broken it when she had fallen down that well. What do I know, maybe she hit her head on something when she had fallen in. The point is, I'm not a doctor, and I'll never know just what had done it. But it happened, and there was nothing I could do about it. And it's been happening again, and again, and again.
I choked on another sob, digging a fist into my tightly closed mouth to suppress it. I couldn't stop a tear from falling, though. Or the next, or the next. Three tears for my Kagome. Added to the several thousand that had already fallen, collected in my heart.
My poor Kagome. How I miss her.
We only get to see her about once a week anymore, sometimes once a month. It's always so quiet around the house whenever she's "away." Dad mostly just bobs around the kitchen, busying himself with cooking or cleaning, mostly reading the daily paper or just sitting there, drumming his fingers distractedly on a table while staring angrily into space. He volunteers to go get her from the well almost as much as Souta does. "For the love of God, Dierdra, just go out and pluck her out of there. If you don't, I'd be more than happy to," he'd tell me sharply about once a day. I'd usually be able to beat down his statement with a well-placed stare of stone.
"Dad, please," I'd say emotionlessly. "It's where she wants to be. She's happy down there, and I don't know what else to do. She'll come out whenever she's ready, okay?"
"She just sits down there, muttering, doesn't she?" he'd say, cocking an eyebrow at me. "All she does in there is make up these crazy stories of hers. A boy who's half a dog. . . a girl with a life-size boomerang. . . some ancient quest for that jewel she'd crushed down there. . . it's all very entertaining, Dee, maybe it is kind of cute. But it's not funny. It's not normal. She needs help, and you know she does."
"I kind of wish that dog-guy had really been here all those times. . . that would have been kind of cool," Souta had muttered, obviously on his grandfather's side with that argument.
I rose back to the present dropped my head onto the window, already succumbing to the panging sobs. It really would be strange to get a peek inside her psyche sometimes. To see all those creatures and people she talks about. . . to actively believe that they're really all down there, instead of playing along all too enthusiastically. It might be nice, actually. Such a huge, fantastical hiatus from the world. . . perfectly fantastical, that is, if it didn't involve her state of mind.
I've seen her down there. I'll just say it, once and for all. I saw her once, and I never want to see her like that again. It wasn't even that good of a look, actually, I mused bitterly as I stared at the tightly sealed shrine doors. I had been watering the plants outside, trying not to think about Kagome, when I heard her cry out feebly from down in that well. I didn't stop to think, to consider what I might see. . . I just ran into that shrine, threw myself down the stairs, pulled the light down so I could see her down there. And there she was. Balled up in a corner. Eyes bulged open, the whites all but disappeared from the growth of her pupils. Her teeth were chattering, her face was red and drawn. She was shivering violently, even though it had been summer that day. Eighty degrees and muggy as anything. And she just stared up at me. . . stared blindly up and through me. She was entirely lost in the Feudal Era of her bottomless imagination.
"Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Just don't think about it," I chided myself quietly. I turned away from the window slowly, eyes fixed on nothing, as I ambled back over to the table. With a sigh, I dropped down into my chair: hopefully I'd find it in me this time to get back into to my book. However, Souta made sure such a thing was perfectly impossible as he came tramping into the room.
"Hey, Mom?"
"Yes, sweetie."
He glanced at me apologetically, seeming to consider retracting his question before it had even been asked. I smiled down at him, summoning all the warmth and patience and love into my face as I could.
"I'm okay, Souta. It's okay. What did you want to ask me?"
"I, uh, I was just wondering if you knew where my soccer ball was," he said dully, eyes on ground. His apologetic manner made my heart just a little more sore. . . I didn't want to see another of my children suffer any more than he had to. "I found it in the front yard this morning, hon. I put it in your room, I think on your bed."
His face brightened a little, just not enough to allow him to smile. "Oh- okay, thanks." He began to trot over to the staircase so I could continue my thoughts, but his sudden re-entrance to the room probably took us both by surprise.
"Um. . . Mom?"
This time, I almost laughed this time at his timid, near guilty disposition. "You have my attention, Souta," I responded, resting a cheek on a hand to view him properly as his climbed up into a chair opposite me. He sighed noisily before continuing his thought.
"Listen, Mom. . . I'm getting a little nervous about. . . Kagome," he said carefully. I fought to keep my face from changing into one that looked stern or angered by his statement, so that he would continue.
Thankfully, he did. "I mean. . . she left just now, didn't she? She went to sit in the well," he went on, determined not to look at me. . . even though I was staring concernedly at him. "Anyway. . . she needs help, me and Grandpa have both told you that like a million times, and this time I'm getting really worried," he said, his voice beginning to crack under a tiny sob. I put an arm around him, heart aching with his.
"It's because of her arm from last time, isn't it," I murmured in his ear, fighting down another memory of her rubbing at the three scratch wounds running down her left arm. . . or the memory of her laughing and saying it was just a slight brush with a mean youkai.
I could tell Souta was recalling the same bothersome fragments as he nodded into my shoulder. "You promised," he said quietly into my upper arm.
My brow creased in confusion. "I promised what?" I responded in an even lower voice, running a hand through is messy hair.
"You promised. . . you promised last month that after she came back after she actually did something to herself that was really bad that you'd take her somewhere. You promised, remember?"
I fought to string the jumbled words together, then frowned in aggravation with myself. "Yes, I remember promising that," I said, pulling my son just a little closer for comfort. "And you're right. She's started hurting herself now. We can't just leave her down there anymore." I felt Souta shake his head in agreement as he buried his face in my shoulder. But it still took a moment and a painfully shuddering breath before continuing.
"It's just that. . . I can't help but think that she's happier down there," I said bemusedly. "She's always so eager. . . eager to get back there. . . to see Inuyasha, or Shippou, or Sango, or. . . ."
"Or Miroku, or Kaede," Souta continued with a small laugh. I guess I wasn't the only one to hang onto all of her stories. "I know, I know, I've thought about that too," He stood and brushed his face free of any unseen tears he'd let fall. "But I mean. . . if there's both good guys and bad guys in her imagination. . . then one day, the good guy is gonna loose," he muttered, turning back to me. "She's gonna hurt herself down there. She's gonna think it was a youkai again."
"I know. I've considered that too. . ." I settled back in the chair, fiddling with the pages of my book like a child who didn't want to look at her punisher. "Okay, Souta, you win," I said weakly as I felt. "The next time she comes out of that well, and not a moment sooner," I said, suddenly sterner to him- "then I will personally taker her to a specialist. I promised you."
Souta nodded, satisfied for what seemed like the first time in years. "It's all gonna be okay," we said simultaneously. I smirked at him.
"Who's the parent here, Souta?"
He smirked in return. "You are Mom," he said, granting me a small hug.
"Yes. . . and I can assure you, it will all be okay," I said, letting him go. He grinned over his shoulder one more time, then disappeared around the corner to return to his room. I, on the other hand, returned to my tea and my book. It was strange, but some parts of this situation were almost welcome. I'd never felt this close to my son, he'd never been so open to me. But even if it brought us close enough to keep him friendly all the way through his teens, even, I would never recommend the situation. As you can probably see.
Okay, that's chapter one. Hope you enjoyed and that you'll review! I'll warn you of one thing, though. . . I update incredibly slowly. Just bare with me in case it's a while before you see the next chapter of this.
Well, thanks for reading! Cheers!
My daughter's sharp, energetic voice shocked me almost out of my chair: I dropped my book onto the table noisily and clapped a hand over my heart in shock.
"Oh, Kagome, please don't do that to me when I'm reading," I breathed, a little shaken. Reaching for my tea again with an unsteady hand, I kept my sights enamored on the delicate face in front of me. There was something wrong with this moment, it was just going to take a moment to decide what it was.
"Mom? Are. . . are you okay?" Kagome asked tentatively. She put a hand to my forehead, then to my cheek. Stepped back to look into my face while I just stared back at her. "You don't look all that well," she tutted, then turned and kneeled down to heave an enormous bag onto her back. "Well, I just wanted to tell you I'm off, Inuyasha wanted me back in the Feudal Era as soon as I could. Apparently he and the others got another rumor about another Jewel shard. . ." she walked off to the back door and pulled open the door, waving slightly to me over her shoulder, giving me a small smile. "Try and do something about your cold or whatever it is while I'm gone?"
"I will," I said softly to her, returning the smile weakly.
She gave me one more grin before climbing out the door and sliding it shut behind her. Not wanting to just lose her like this again, I stood suddenly and strode over to the window adjacent to the door. I pulled back the blinds with one hand as the other grasped the mug of tea like my very lifeline. . . and as I watched her leap so eagerly, so weightlessly into that well. . . I couldn't help but let a shuddering sob fall.
If only for one day, I wish I could actually understand my daughter's delirium.
Her behavior is just so strange. It feels like it always has been. . . at least since her fifteenth birthday, back almost three years ago now. And that feels like it's been forever. But still, I don't know what kind of a strange birthday present she had gotten that day. Maybe there had been a strange substance in something special she had eaten, or drunken. . . maybe she had really, really loved that jewel her grandfather had given her and really had been deeply traumatized when she had broken it when she had fallen down that well. What do I know, maybe she hit her head on something when she had fallen in. The point is, I'm not a doctor, and I'll never know just what had done it. But it happened, and there was nothing I could do about it. And it's been happening again, and again, and again.
I choked on another sob, digging a fist into my tightly closed mouth to suppress it. I couldn't stop a tear from falling, though. Or the next, or the next. Three tears for my Kagome. Added to the several thousand that had already fallen, collected in my heart.
My poor Kagome. How I miss her.
We only get to see her about once a week anymore, sometimes once a month. It's always so quiet around the house whenever she's "away." Dad mostly just bobs around the kitchen, busying himself with cooking or cleaning, mostly reading the daily paper or just sitting there, drumming his fingers distractedly on a table while staring angrily into space. He volunteers to go get her from the well almost as much as Souta does. "For the love of God, Dierdra, just go out and pluck her out of there. If you don't, I'd be more than happy to," he'd tell me sharply about once a day. I'd usually be able to beat down his statement with a well-placed stare of stone.
"Dad, please," I'd say emotionlessly. "It's where she wants to be. She's happy down there, and I don't know what else to do. She'll come out whenever she's ready, okay?"
"She just sits down there, muttering, doesn't she?" he'd say, cocking an eyebrow at me. "All she does in there is make up these crazy stories of hers. A boy who's half a dog. . . a girl with a life-size boomerang. . . some ancient quest for that jewel she'd crushed down there. . . it's all very entertaining, Dee, maybe it is kind of cute. But it's not funny. It's not normal. She needs help, and you know she does."
"I kind of wish that dog-guy had really been here all those times. . . that would have been kind of cool," Souta had muttered, obviously on his grandfather's side with that argument.
I rose back to the present dropped my head onto the window, already succumbing to the panging sobs. It really would be strange to get a peek inside her psyche sometimes. To see all those creatures and people she talks about. . . to actively believe that they're really all down there, instead of playing along all too enthusiastically. It might be nice, actually. Such a huge, fantastical hiatus from the world. . . perfectly fantastical, that is, if it didn't involve her state of mind.
I've seen her down there. I'll just say it, once and for all. I saw her once, and I never want to see her like that again. It wasn't even that good of a look, actually, I mused bitterly as I stared at the tightly sealed shrine doors. I had been watering the plants outside, trying not to think about Kagome, when I heard her cry out feebly from down in that well. I didn't stop to think, to consider what I might see. . . I just ran into that shrine, threw myself down the stairs, pulled the light down so I could see her down there. And there she was. Balled up in a corner. Eyes bulged open, the whites all but disappeared from the growth of her pupils. Her teeth were chattering, her face was red and drawn. She was shivering violently, even though it had been summer that day. Eighty degrees and muggy as anything. And she just stared up at me. . . stared blindly up and through me. She was entirely lost in the Feudal Era of her bottomless imagination.
"Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Just don't think about it," I chided myself quietly. I turned away from the window slowly, eyes fixed on nothing, as I ambled back over to the table. With a sigh, I dropped down into my chair: hopefully I'd find it in me this time to get back into to my book. However, Souta made sure such a thing was perfectly impossible as he came tramping into the room.
"Hey, Mom?"
"Yes, sweetie."
He glanced at me apologetically, seeming to consider retracting his question before it had even been asked. I smiled down at him, summoning all the warmth and patience and love into my face as I could.
"I'm okay, Souta. It's okay. What did you want to ask me?"
"I, uh, I was just wondering if you knew where my soccer ball was," he said dully, eyes on ground. His apologetic manner made my heart just a little more sore. . . I didn't want to see another of my children suffer any more than he had to. "I found it in the front yard this morning, hon. I put it in your room, I think on your bed."
His face brightened a little, just not enough to allow him to smile. "Oh- okay, thanks." He began to trot over to the staircase so I could continue my thoughts, but his sudden re-entrance to the room probably took us both by surprise.
"Um. . . Mom?"
This time, I almost laughed this time at his timid, near guilty disposition. "You have my attention, Souta," I responded, resting a cheek on a hand to view him properly as his climbed up into a chair opposite me. He sighed noisily before continuing his thought.
"Listen, Mom. . . I'm getting a little nervous about. . . Kagome," he said carefully. I fought to keep my face from changing into one that looked stern or angered by his statement, so that he would continue.
Thankfully, he did. "I mean. . . she left just now, didn't she? She went to sit in the well," he went on, determined not to look at me. . . even though I was staring concernedly at him. "Anyway. . . she needs help, me and Grandpa have both told you that like a million times, and this time I'm getting really worried," he said, his voice beginning to crack under a tiny sob. I put an arm around him, heart aching with his.
"It's because of her arm from last time, isn't it," I murmured in his ear, fighting down another memory of her rubbing at the three scratch wounds running down her left arm. . . or the memory of her laughing and saying it was just a slight brush with a mean youkai.
I could tell Souta was recalling the same bothersome fragments as he nodded into my shoulder. "You promised," he said quietly into my upper arm.
My brow creased in confusion. "I promised what?" I responded in an even lower voice, running a hand through is messy hair.
"You promised. . . you promised last month that after she came back after she actually did something to herself that was really bad that you'd take her somewhere. You promised, remember?"
I fought to string the jumbled words together, then frowned in aggravation with myself. "Yes, I remember promising that," I said, pulling my son just a little closer for comfort. "And you're right. She's started hurting herself now. We can't just leave her down there anymore." I felt Souta shake his head in agreement as he buried his face in my shoulder. But it still took a moment and a painfully shuddering breath before continuing.
"It's just that. . . I can't help but think that she's happier down there," I said bemusedly. "She's always so eager. . . eager to get back there. . . to see Inuyasha, or Shippou, or Sango, or. . . ."
"Or Miroku, or Kaede," Souta continued with a small laugh. I guess I wasn't the only one to hang onto all of her stories. "I know, I know, I've thought about that too," He stood and brushed his face free of any unseen tears he'd let fall. "But I mean. . . if there's both good guys and bad guys in her imagination. . . then one day, the good guy is gonna loose," he muttered, turning back to me. "She's gonna hurt herself down there. She's gonna think it was a youkai again."
"I know. I've considered that too. . ." I settled back in the chair, fiddling with the pages of my book like a child who didn't want to look at her punisher. "Okay, Souta, you win," I said weakly as I felt. "The next time she comes out of that well, and not a moment sooner," I said, suddenly sterner to him- "then I will personally taker her to a specialist. I promised you."
Souta nodded, satisfied for what seemed like the first time in years. "It's all gonna be okay," we said simultaneously. I smirked at him.
"Who's the parent here, Souta?"
He smirked in return. "You are Mom," he said, granting me a small hug.
"Yes. . . and I can assure you, it will all be okay," I said, letting him go. He grinned over his shoulder one more time, then disappeared around the corner to return to his room. I, on the other hand, returned to my tea and my book. It was strange, but some parts of this situation were almost welcome. I'd never felt this close to my son, he'd never been so open to me. But even if it brought us close enough to keep him friendly all the way through his teens, even, I would never recommend the situation. As you can probably see.
Okay, that's chapter one. Hope you enjoyed and that you'll review! I'll warn you of one thing, though. . . I update incredibly slowly. Just bare with me in case it's a while before you see the next chapter of this.
Well, thanks for reading! Cheers!