Goodbye

The fight was not on. In fact, it never even happened. Instead Zenobia left for home a car that was quiet and tense. Not a word left either her or her mother's lips after saying goodbye and thank you to Jennifer.

If anyone were to peer into the short four-person car, they'd think there would be nothing wrong with the scene. Just a mother and daughter having a peaceful, silent ride home. But it wasn't a peaceful, silent ride. Zenobia knew her mother was furious. Livid even.

From the moment their eyes locked in Elias' room, a fight was inevitable. However, it seemed she didn't think it appropriate to do it in the doctor's home. At least, Zenobia thought so when she saw her mother took a deep breath. Terse yet polite, her mother was quick to get them home, Zora waiting in the car being her excuse.

An excuse, all right. Zora stayed at school for a little soccer game hosted by the little girl's principal. She received a permission slip and everything to stay longer. How convenient that the game would last long enough for the teen to be chewed out and buried in the backyard should the need be.

She could feel it.

The building pressure. She saw it, the way her mother's hands squeezed, suffocating the hard, moaning wheel. Her lioness of a mother refused to look at her, keeping her eyes on the road. A small blessing since those eyes burned with a passionate anger.

If Zenobia had any doubts as to the heritage for her eyes, she didn't anymore. It made her all the more glad she purposely left her sketchbook at Elias' house. Even if she forbade them from meeting up, he could still make her masks. His dream could still be a reality, especially now that he befriended Phoebie.

 So she said nothing. Did nothing but sit and watch outside the car window. The trees became blurs of green, brown and orange with the fading sun. The familiar buildings of black brick and pale purple stones Momoka District was known for flooded her vision. 

In her head, she counted down.

The time it would take to get home. The time to be verbally lashed by her mother. The time for the hope in her chest to die at getting Zora the mask she desperately wanted her to have. 

Instead of the sharp rings, buzzes and whistles in her ears, Zenobia heard cries. The fox was back, running alongside their car on the street. It swerved and twisted around the feet of pedestrians. It barked up at her, just like Rosette, albeit in a higher, shriller pitch. She watched it try to keep up with them. 

At this point Zenobia concluded it to be her imagination running wild. A coping mechanism whenever she was overly stressed or lost in her head. Too many dreams and thoughts woven by her childhood story. 

Just like every other time the red-eyed girl tried to focus on the fox, it vanished. As if it was never there.

"Your room. Now." Zenobia blinked, glancing at her mother. The engine was off. The older woman's hands were off the steering wheel and her eyes were still in front of her, instead of at her daughter. What worried the teen though…was the tone.

There was no heat in her voice. No seething bitterness that they both were so used to. It was quiet with a tired edge to it. And that scared her more than if her mother just started cursing her out. 

So without a word, she did what she was told. Her mother right on her heels, trepidation swelled in her heart as she made her way into her room. Words stayed lodged in her throat, unable to come out. The door closed quietly behind them. 

What Zenobia considered a safe space suddenly became a prison for interrogation. But the reason for her feet to stick to the ground wasn't that feeling of fear. Rather it was what she saw in her room. 

Her side of the room was stripped of all life. Everything: Her art supplies, Her father's mask carving tools, the books on her shelf, the clothes hanging in her closet, her drawers cleaned from clutter. All that she saw were three boxes that sat on her bare bed. 

"You will not be living here anymore, Zenobia."

"What are you-"

"I can't have you here corrupting your sister. From now on you will be living with your grandmother Willow." Zenobia couldn't think-couldn't breathe. Nothing was making a lick of sense to her.

Who the hell was grandmother Willow? Unless it was from her father's side, as far as she knew, there were no grandparents. She went to turn around, only to be pushed further into the room.

Unprepared for the shove, her knees skidded painfully across the floor. A hiss left her lips when she lifted her red streaked palms. Her leg throbbed from the landing as well, paralyzing her. 

"When she arrives, you will live with her and that will be all. I don't want you anywhere near this house or your sister." Gritting her teeth from the pain, she looked up, twisting her neck.

Her anger riddled eyes met the door being shut and locked before she could so much as shout at her. Footsteps faintly faded away, signaling her mother walking away. 

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry, But she did neither of those things. 

Instead she kneeled there, trying to control her breathing. Her thoughts became a panicked jumble as she gathered some sense of calm. It was no use. How can one remain calm when one's mother just told them to leave?!

How long had her mother been planning this? Was it just today that she decided to get rid of her? Had she been planning it for a while and only just chose to act on it?

The sixteen year old didn't know. And she didn't want to. All that she knew was that she was being tossed aside. Kicked out.

 It shouldn't be a surprise that her mother finally got fed up with her. Zenobia warned Elias after all. The two of them never got along and the decision thrown at her just now was proof.

So her mother didn't want her anymore. Couldn't deal with her stubborn rebellious self? That was fine. But like hell she would accept not being able to see her sister. Neither would she allow for her mother and this supposed grandmother of hers to take her away. 

Exhaling, she stood up, limping towards the boxes. With shaking fingers she opened each one, checking the contents. Whatever ideas that wanted to form in her head would wait. Priority first and foremost, figuring out what she had.

Her clothes, blankets, and sheets sat neatly in box one. Each and every single article of fabric were neatly folded with precision. Heavy yet snug within the limited space. 

 Box two's contents had her toiletries. Her deodorant, her two-year old toothbrush, her favorite mint and cinnamon toothpaste, pads, painkillers, flu pills, her cherry blossom and peach shampoo and conditioner. Even her hair dryer fit in with all of her soaps and everything else she had listed laid there, arranged in perfect order. 

Zenobia's lips trembled but not a single tear fell. She ignored the unwanted, UNWANTED thoughts the circled through her mind. Despite reality slapping her in the face she still wanted to believe...

The items found in box three really confirmed her mother's words of getting rid of her. Again, all of her art supplies and mask making tools were not found within the contents. In fact, none of the items in the third box were hers at all.

A blinding fury came with the realization that what she had was her father's things. Part of her contemplated throwing everything out on the floor just to spite the old hag. All of her father's old clothes and nick-nacks sprawled over on the ground for Zora to look at when she leaves.

Let her loving mother pick up her father's things again. Let her get annoyed at the trouble Zenobia relished causing her. Explain to the five-year old why her big sister no longer lived with them and see what happens. 

But this was a warning, Zenobia knew this. If she didn't take what was in this box with her, chances were what little remained of her father would just get thrown away. Not only was Zenobia unwelcomed here, but so was the remains of her father. Someone who she always took pride in taking after.

Did her mother really think Zora would be ok with this? That she wouldn't question or get upset with Zenobia being gone? Did that old lion-masked woman really think her eldest daughter would just let it happen without a fight?

Surely the teen inherited her intelligence from both her parents instead of just her father? Or maybe her mother became more stupid as the years went on? She certainly turned blind to all of her eldest's pains.

In any case, the fox-masked girl knew what she had. Taking out her phone, she texted Elias and Phoebie. At the very least, even if they couldn't help her, they would know why she wasn't around. Next she searched her little sister's drawers, amused at the cluttered papers and crayons she knew would be in there.

No matter what, she had to have a conversation with the window leading outside, but not before leaving a message to Zora. Even if Zenobia had to leave her home and memories behind, she would not abandon her only ray of light. 

Or rather...she would let the child know that her leaving was not her decision alone.