Chapter Four

KYLE'S P.O.V.

I sat patiently on the couch, tapping my foot and unconsciously drumming my fingers on my thigh. It was near the time mum got home. I’ve already spent all afternoon cleaning the kitchen floor, of course, that happened after I ordered another vase, in which I requested immediate delivery for, and thankfully it came in a few hours later.

I gifted it to my mother, for her birthday. And she loves it, she’d go out every new season and purchase seeds for a suitable flower that grows in that specific weather, plant it in our garden-like backyard, nurse it until it’s fully bloomed then gather the flowers to put in this particular vase. It’s made of white clay, glazed in blush pink, with Alençon lace detailing engraved all over it. It’s soft and the light shines off of it, just like my mother. Which was one of the main reasons I chose it specifically.

I was waiting on mum to come back, revising in my head what I’m going to say. How I’m going to explain to her my weird habit of stalking Andrew and the fact that he saw me, twice. Which will end up with me coming out to her.

I don’t think she’ll like it… it’s a topic that never really arose in any conversation. With me being an abnormality, and having to hide, girls and relationships are not an option. The only time we “talked” about it, was when I first crossed paths with the discovery channel in fourth grade’s science, and I was confused as hell and went to mum in which she explained the human reproduction process. You know, the whole birds and bees talk. Then again in eighth grade, when she helped me memorize some topics for my finals. So I’ve got no clue on how she’d react. I just hope she loves me enough to look past my flaws. The multitude of them.

I’ve been such a burden for mum ever since she birthed me. Having to worry about me all the time, while maintaining a job to support us. Dealing with the consequences of my disobedience all those years ago. And her never being able to have a normal life because of me… for me to add my homosexualism to it is just pure cruelty. I know I’ll have to tell her at some point, but for now, I’ll stick to altering the truth.

I heard the jingle of keys and I looked directly to the clock, reading a half to midnight. Before I can ponder over the fact she’s late, she came in looking tired and gloomy. Her eyes are glossed and rimmed in red, all light washed out. Something is definitely wrong.

“Are you okay ma?” She fell into my arms as soon as I directed her to the couch, the sadness that clouded her eyes had my stomach crunching in discomfort.

“I’m fi- fine.” Her voice broke midway, and I instantly wrapped my wings around her and rocked us back and forth. She’d always do that to me when I was upset so hopefully, it works the other way around too.

“Please mama, you know you can tell me anything, what’s the matter?” I lowered my head slightly to look into her eyes, and she sighed; probably figuring I won’t let this go until she confides in me.

I raised my hand to her face, to wipe her tears away before she has the chance to do so. And waited patiently for her to calm down enough to tell me. I hope it’s not anything I can’t fix.

“Sam proposed.” She confessed, ringing her fingers together and casting her head downwards, avoiding my eyes. I noticed how her lips wobbled, and her shoulders trembled in the slightest, unnoticeable way, but my advanced sight caught it.

I pulled her to myself once again and closed my eyes shut when she started crying again. My heart ached for her. If it wasn’t for me; she’d be overjoyed. For a second chance of happiness. But of course, I have to be an anathema in everything.

Sam is her co-worker and ultimate crush. She might not admit it out loud, but I know my mother. And through our late night talks, I came to know his birthdate, the name, and age of his daughter, Melissa. His favorite color, and a well-detailed description of his “beautiful” eyes.

Mum went on and on about his eyes one time, she didn’t even realize it. I never pointed it out to her, and I listened through it all with a smile on my face. I don’t think she even knows it happened. The love-struck look on her face, and the smile drawn on her lips that night, was the happiest I’ve seen on her. She so much reminded me of myself when it comes to Andrew.

I hate how cruel life has been towards my mother, why did fate have to bring my father’s path and hers to cross? Couldn’t she fall in love with a normal nobleman who will take care of her and make her happy, instead of falling in love with someone who only brought distraughtly and abnormality to her life, and left her with a half-breed to care for and struggle because of?

Mum has tried so hard over the years to not get involved in romantically sated relationships, or even friendships. I’ve deprived her of ever having someone constant in her life, and no matter how much she assured me that she doesn’t need anyone but me, I know it’s not enough. Humans survive on socialness. But she always retreated no matter how hard she fell.

My mother has a loving heart, one that was born to live in the open, to sing songs of care, protection, and guidance. And bloom flowers of beauty and creative intelligence. One worthy to love and be loved, to trust and be trusted. To spread nobility and bravery. And be the clearance for souls filled with darkness. she gives it all when it comes to anyone she cares for, even in the slightest, but when the time comes, when she is given the same back, she runs off. All because of my existence.

She was able to withstand the torment of heartbreak, for nearly five years. Then Sam appeared and a few months later; her smile was constant. I knew right away, the moment she fell for him. And it tugged at my heart every day since. I was anxiously awaiting for the moment to arrive; the inevitable damage.

It’s here. And I can’t take it. To know that I’m partially the reason is too hurtful. I knew she’d wind up crying like this, I thought I could brace it if I anticipated it, but I was wrong. Each sob was a spear piercing through my heart.

But I was selfish. I didn’t want her to leave me. It is more of an insecurity of mine. One that awoke me in cold sweat in a countless number of nights. The mere thought that one day, she’d grow tired of me, seeking normalcy and stability, and would abandon me. I won’t be able to survive that. No matter how many times I told myself that mum has proven to me that she loves me beyond reasoning, it is something I couldn’t shake, a fear in the depth of my mind haunting me every awakening moment.

I’m selfish because I know that the right thing to do is; leave. Allow her the freedom I deprived her from the moment I saw light beyond her womb. Give her the chance to continue her life normal. Be with a normal man with a normal child.

I want her happy, and its allies with my disappearance. She’s the only person I’m allowed to love, the only one that matters, and yet; I cannot do the one thing that would grant her true happiness.

Is it wrong to want her happy, and to want myself there to witness and take part in it?

I’ve kept myself wrapped around my mother, until her cries died out, then when she kept hiccupping and eventually when her breathing was leveled and she had calmed down completely. She was the first to move, wiping what’s left of her tears and getting out of my embrace. I let her go and watched as her withered self, staggered up the stairs. I counted my exhales for five times, then followed after her. Giving her the chance to wash up and change.

All plans of telling her of my latest missteps were forgotten, it was not the time at all. It’d be too much for her to bear, I don’t want her to go through a meltdown from the amount of stress put down on her.

When I reached her room, she was already in her nightgown and was arranging the bed to get in. I took my steps towards her vanity and lit her air diffuser, after adding her favorite mix of essential oils. By the time I looked back at mum, she was all tucked in. I sat at the edge of her bed and pressed my lips to her forehead lightly. Trying to silently assure her that everything is going to be alright.

Everything will be alright.

******

I went to my room afterwards. Determinate to find a permanent solution. It's about high time I took responsibility for my missteps and mishaps caused by my existence. For a while I paced the length of my room, then I’d sit and jot down any idea and think it through, only to re-pace the room while I contemplate whether it would work or not.

I’ve had a few ideas, all were bad except for one. However, I know mum would not agree to it and that's the hard part. She isn't going to approve, but I hope I’d be able to manifest to her how it would work in everyone’s favor before she outs to skin me alive. I have to play my cards right, she'll freak out that's for sure. But hopefully, it won't end up in a fight.

So it appears my constant thinking is fruitful. If and only if ma agrees to what I'm planning, which is unlikely but hopefully, just hopefully, she'll see where I'm coming from. If she agrees, I’d finally have the chance to set everything right, for us both. I owe her that much.

I decided to skip my ‘visit’ to Andrew tonight. The last few encounters were disastrous. Plus with all that brainpower came time, in which I spent the whole of my night thinking ideas through. If my plan is set in motion, then I’d be able to make up for this lost night.

I looked at the clock, it's around six in the morning. I could catch three hours of sleep before mum wakes up. But then I risk the chance of oversleeping and missing on mum so no. I'll wait. And so for three hours, I stuck my nose in that textbook I was supposed to memorize yesterday. The History of England; 13th century.

My eyes kept darting between the textbook, and my notes notebook; it doesn’t line up! I was supposed to have my notes on King Edward I of England. Instead, I somehow have a full section on King Leopard of Belgium! How even! They’re not even from the same era! I breathed out, clearly Frustrated and I threw my notebook across the room, then rummaged through my dresser to find that pack of flashcards, the one I was too lazy to take down to the study room.

I’m going to have to start over. I groaned, It’s going to take some while, but perhaps writing it will make the information stick. I grabbed my pen, giving myself a small pep-talk, before diving in. let’s start with the basics…

It was actually quite interesting hearing about Lord Edward, as he was commonly called before being crowned. The fact that he was intrigued by politics and was often in his father’s council from such a young age shows the clear influence a parent could have over their child. It was also quite remarkable; the number of wars and battles he had to engage in before even being of age. You’d think the crown prince would be locked off within the castle walls to ensure his safety as the heir to the throne and the kingdom’s future.

I mean he should have been. What happens when you let fools into a battleground? They fall. Like what happened when he was taken hostage by the rebellious barons after the Battle of Lewes. I mean he did manage to escape and defeat the baronial leader—gosh he was a prick. And when he managed to go home, his father dies. Talk about cruel. Don’t get me started on his reign. Reforming royal administration and common law is fantastic and all but for goodness sake what took you to military affairs? Like maybe leave it to your head generals?! The amount of rebellions he dealt with. Gad. But I mean at least he’s handsome— if portraits are the way to go.

–

Once the clock rang nine, I got up, tried to tidy up the mess I left after studying Edward for almost three hours straight— I was slapping the flashcards against my forehead by the end of it— and washed up to make it look like I actually got an ounce of sleep. Then headed towards my mother's room. I was doubting my plan, in no way she's going to agree but I have to at least give it a try. So, later on, I could say I tried and not cowardly stayed put while everything between us shattered.

I raised my hand, ready to knock when the door opened; Mum's eyes were tired and red, perhaps she too didn't get much sleep after all. Yet I didn't caught on to her crying or waking up? Ma is getting better at covering up her tracks from me. This is not good. Not good at all. I always relayed on keeping tracks on her movement through the night, to ease my mind. Not knowing if she’s asleep or breathing because I can’t pick up the sound, will send me into states of panic, repetitively.

Focus Kyle! You're here for a reason! Of course, everyone is born for a reason it's not even high scienc—“Good morning mum! Breakfast?”

Coward.

******

I sat across my mum, nervously tracking her movement as she cut through her pancakes. It’s our favorite meal whenever we—she— take the time off to have breakfast together. I was still trying to gather the courage to tell her. But the clock is ticking and we're almost finished.

“Alright, what is it?” I was startled when her voice rung out all of a sudden, I almost dropped my cutlery. I looked up and ma had her eyebrow raised at me with a smirk. I'm the one with enhanced senses, yet she's the one noticing when I’m all riled up? That’s not fair. I pout inwardly.

“Ah... I wanted to ask you something...” I stuttered out, I just noticed that I kept trying to gather enough will power to tell her, yet I didn't phrase it out. Glorious.

She looked at me expectantly, but the words seemed to stop at my throat. “You... Are not going to work are you?” I mentally slapped myself, she literally said so a few minutes ago. We wouldn’t be having this damned breakfast if she was.

“Come on Kyle, I already told you I won’t. What is it really?” my mother laughed, shaking her head at me. Did I mention; I’m a terrible liar? At least I made her laugh…

“Ok so truly, I was thinking maybe today we can do something fun? I finished my studies, and you're not going to work – we can finish that painting we were wanting to!”

“Yeah, that sounds nice... We can try and bake that pie we saw on TV too! But maybe after you tell me what is it you want to tell me?” she gave me a pointed look, she knows I’m stalling. So I blurted it out, but it was too fast and too jumbled up for even me to understand, which mum brought up, wanting me to repeat it slower.

“I want to attend an actual school.”

...

*mic drop*