Thank you dearoppa for the poster!

Somehow, I find enough energy to force myself up from the ground. Somehow, I find the will to move away from the truck, in the opposite direction of where Luhan has been taken away, and walk toward my house.

The tears stop. I don’t even have the strength to cry anymore.

When I near my house, I stumble forward in an indistinct daze. My feet bring me to the stoop of the front door. Before I can begin to open it, the door opens, and I see my mother standing there with eyes that stare at me in both regret and finality.

“You took him away,” I whisper. My voice cracks. I raise a hand to my throat and wonder when my voice began to lose its tone. “You took him away,” I repeat, stronger and louder this time. “Why did you do that?” She simply stares at me, almost unemotionally, and blinded by my own problems, I lash out at her. “Why did you take him away?” I screech. I hate how I sound right now. I must sound like a spoiled child. I must sound so weak. But I can’t prevent myself from being selfish. “Why did you do that?!”

“Emer.”

“Why?”

“Emer … “

“Dang it mom, why?!” I shouted at her. My throat, my lungs, and my heart have never hurt so much. I feel like everything inside of me is burning, and there isn’t anything that can possibly extinguish the flames reaching for my veins.

“Emer, I – “

“You took him away, didn’t you?” I berate her. “You did this. You did! You took him away. You never told me, I never – I never got to say goodbye …” My eyes trail to the floor. My head is spinning. “Why did you do it?” I whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I don’t raise my head to see my mother’s face when she speaks. I can hear her taking a deep breath in order to prepare herself for what she is going to say.

“Emer … before you assume anything, I want you to know that I never requested him to be taken away.” A pause. “The Institute came … he answered the door. I was a room away. I saw them hold some machine to his hand … I’m not sure what happened, something must have not worked, because Luhan didn’t react, and they kept pressing that machine to his hand. They tried to do an emergency shut down of his system, and he resisted. They panicked.”

“And you just watched, didn’t you?” I accuse. “You watched them take him away.”

“I … yes. You’re right. I watched them take away. I saw them lose their calm when they realized that he wasn’t responding to their efforts to close his system. So they ... they took him, and they bro – “

“Stop.” I try to breathe, but it’s difficult. My chest is constricted. “Stop. I get it. Just stop.” I don’t want to picture it. I don’t want to imagine what they did to him.

“I know you won’t understand me, Emer,” my mom continues. “You won’t understand why I didn’t stop them. Not right now. Maybe later, I can hope – “

“I’m going to my room,” I interrupt and push past my mom. I stumble as I jog up the stairs. Before I enter my room, I call back, “And for the record, I failed the test.” I don’t wait to hear my mom’s reply of disappointment and lock myself behind a closed door.

I sink to the floor and rest my back against the door. Burying my head in between my knees, I wrap my arms around my legs and glare at the ground. I know I can’t hide forever. I know that eventually, I’ll have to stand up, leave my room, and apologize – or at least pretend to feel sorry about yelling at my mom. I know that eventually, this anger and this hurt will fade away, and I’m going to look back at this tantrum in dissatisfaction at my own self.

But not right now. Eventually isn’t today. That’s a time too far away from me. That’s a time I can’t consider.

I hate it when people tell you to move on, or forget about it, or that time heals everything. The assurance of those words doesn’t mean anything to someone who is in the middle of a mess of a life. Nobody believes those words until after they’re over it.

I don’t know how long it will take me to be over this. I honestly have no idea.

And I don’t care, either. Not this time.

-----

The phone rings. I don’t know how much time has passed, but apparently I have been sitting here for a long time, because the light shining through my window is dark. I contemplate getting up and answering the impending call, but I change my mind and decide to wait. After three rings, it stops, and I know my mother has answered it.

Curious, I get down on my knees and open the door a crack. I stick my head out of the door and crane my neck to hear my mother. I hear mumbling, so I venture out more, wanting to hear the conversation.

“ … I understand,” she is saying. “Thank you for letting me know. What’s that? Oh … no. I don’t plan on ordering another one. Thank you so much. Yes. All right … bye.”

As soon as she hangs up, I rush back to my room and silently close the door. A few seconds pass before I hear her footsteps. I stand up just as her knuckles tap the door.

“Yeah?” I respond to her knocking.

“Emer … can I come in?”

I sta