Updated: 230715

Words: 3886

Apparently, mom seems to be missing shopping so much. We've been in here for an hour and more, I don't know, I lost count. However, we did bought more than we need. Period.

I stole a glance into our cart. There is too many unnecessary goods. We actually didn’t need to come to a supermarket in the first place. We don't lack anything at home. Well, we do. Nevertheless, we've learned throughout the years to minimize our daily expenses. We don't spend much so we rarely go out for grocery shopping as we used to. And also, it is not always about our need and money, it is often due to our common disinterest of meeting the neighbors and other people.

But still that doesn't allow us or give us any rights to refresh our fridge and kitchen with dozens of things that we might need. Mom was literally putting whatever her eyes lay on in the cart. That tells me one thing, my mother is really and blissfully in a good mood. Like in a new whole level of being euphoric, high and happy.  

She was walking through the aisles, head up confidently and not daring looking down. She was looking at everyone in the eyes, which emphasized the old version of mom that I miss most. She was relaxed and it even moved to me. I am somehow relaxed as well, calm and not worried except for one thing.

How she is like this? Something good happened and I will soon know what it is.

My mom was humming a song as she was walking along the vegetables aisle. She was lecturing me on how to choose the right vegetables, and how to identify the fresh ones among the ones that are old and forced there to be sold. I was nodding, but nothing got to my head.

 I was pushing the cart and I was trying so hard not to crush into her. She was moving anticipatory from side to side without looking around her. Her full of energy self got her to bump into a few people, but she didn't even apologize aside from the death glares she's given them. Like it was their fault in walking in the same aisle she is in.

To be completely honest, I'm happy that's she's happy.

I am happy she could regain her old self and be perfectly natural.

It's been awhile since we did this like normal people. Mom glanced over her shoulder at me, her shiny hair bouncing up and down as she held a red&white plate. "Daran, look at this." She flipped the Chinese plate to closely examine it, her lips pursed in a tight line. "I think we need a new table set. I mean, look at these, they look good."

I didn't give her an answer as she snapped. "Ah!" She approached me with a grin making her whole face glowing. "Let's go to IKEA when we're done."

"Mom," I rolled my eyes with an exhausted smile. "Do you think we are in a position where we can go to IKEA?"

My mom looked at me strangely, patting her eyelashes in disbelief. "IKEA doesn’t need a time nor an occasion. Just by walking there aimlessly, you would have fun."

This small disagreement can switch my mother's mood right away. She's been always like this. Always wanting the other person to never refuse anything she wants. I shrugged as I walked near her, my eyes checking the cart for the tenth time already, calculating the goods automatically. "But it is a waste of time."

"How is it a waste of time if you're having fun?"

I will definitely use that line against her one day. She is the one telling me not to put the words 'having fun' and 'to live' in my top of priorities. My all-time priority is to be safe and be near her. I thought of something to say back and Tablo's house incident came popped in my head. "Mom, I have so many things to do."

"Like, what? Work?" She suddenly cut me off.

I swallowed. "Yes, work and other things."

She blinked at me with her big eyes, the sudden mood swing frightened me. She nodded. "For instance?"

I let out a deep breath. "I need to do some homework, to check on the Lees because their house was a disaster the last time I was there, and" I hesitated before uttering. "The wolf thing. I need to know what happened, which I think you have a part in keeping it hidden from me,"

"The wolf?" She almost let out a laugh, as if she failed at holding it back. "So you still believe that you saw a wolf?"

I didn't believe what I'm hearing. "Yes,"

"A wolf?" her voice was full of sarcasm. "How can you tell the difference?"

It wasn't a normal question. I know it. She didn't want an answer. The answer she wanted out of me is something she wants to mock me for.

"You don't believe me?"

She shook her head. "This isn't the point,"

"No, why would I lie? Why would Tablo lie?"

She shrugged. "I didn't say you were lying,"

"You didn't, but your face says so." My face heated and my hands were shaking. I averted my eyes, shaking my head as I recalled what happened. Was I imaging things? No. "I'm not gonna quit any of my jobs,"

My mom scoffed as she threw her bag in the cart and narrowed her eyes at me. She pointed her finger at me, giving me that tight-lipped smile. "I don't know from where exactly you took this stubbornness and persistence,"

I want it to shout 'who else would it be other than you?'.

"But as I told you, you won't be working for them anymore."

"I wasn't working for them," I corrected but she took my hand, managing to drag me and hold the cart toward the cashier.

"Ah, mom, you're hurting me." I winced, trying to free my hand, but who am I playing with. She is mom. The strongest woman I've ever knew.

"You don't need to work for anyone from now on. We've changed. Our lives will change." She wasn't looking at me as she kept walking forward. A strange, sour smile was placed on her lips.

"Mom," I held her hand with my other hand, not giving up on slipping from her grip. If she was treating me like this at home, I don't care, but not in front of these people. It won't kill her to pretend to show some civilized behavior. "Let go of me, it really hurt."

People were staring, but it wasn't the first time. I get that a lot; treated like an uncontrolled child who might hurt himself aside from others.

"Yeah, it won't hurt for long, like always." She looked at me when she took a spot in the line. "You've got worse than this, and you didn't seem to be hurt at all, remember?"

.

Once we returned from that crazy grocery shopping, I went straight to my room and locked it. I did my homework and assignments in no time. Tomorrow's, the other day's and the next week's assignments were all done.

I actually wasn't aware of how much time has passed because I was mad. And when I am mad, I do so many things and I realize that I did them later. Like, at the moment, due to the blinding anger that I always keep and never express, I do things without thinking.

It is like I can pour all of my negative energy in doing homework, home chores, running, and singing loudly. The last one is something I didn't do for ages. Good times, though.

I seriously don't have the slightest desire in sitting in one room with my mother. I don't want to see her face, I don't want to listen to her voice, I don't want to do anything with her. What she did today was unexplainable.

Staying in my room is best for me and her.

She clearly told me when we were making our way home that she won't let me go out for the day. I didn't take her commands seriously, but she ceased my phone and announced that I will stay at home and don't go out unless it's school. She offered that she will pick me up and drop me there from now on. Mad? Who is mad? Ha, not me.

She is acting like a mom now.

I was literally boiling.

She has no rights, and even though I asked her why several times, but she had the same answer. "It's for your own good," and she was in the mood to throw some jokes that no one laughed at except her. "And after-all, you are a high-school student, you need to do some studying. Am I wrong?"

It wasn't really a joke, but I could feel a hint of sarcasm in her tone. Sometimes I would prefer the gloomy bleak version of my mother rather than this version. The unpredictable, always laugh and smile version of her.

When it comes to my safety, when the S word is mentioned, everything in me starts screaming. It has that effect in me that turns me from a peaceful lamb to Satan himself. I don't know how or when I developed this hatred relationship with that damned word, but all the thanks to my parents, specifical