"Hey, Look What I Got!"

“Hey, look what I got!” Claire ran to her open-armed mother and accepted the offering, embracing the warmth as the feeling of glee overtook her completely. She would never let herself forget the happiness her mom’s touch would give her, the blanket of comfort and security it created; a safe haven. Every so often, the young girl let herself imagine the absence of such familiarity. Being stripped of all she knew, being left alone to fend for herself. Perhaps she would no longer remain in the same reality, perhaps the truancy of her everyday life would be the downfall she feared. A void. She would be in the void, the actuality of everything yet nothing; a bundle of nullity where all other souls were left to lay in their own solitude. The surge of continuous emotions converging to create a single, thread-like wave. While she lay in her bed, Claire often wondered if that was the existence of people amounted to - was there truly no greater purpose? All the talks of higher powers and being, were they all to build a deceiving mask? 

“What did you get, hun?” A soft, honey-like voice that on its own elicited such joyous laughter from her baby. It wasn’t rare for her mother to sever her hidden train of thoughts, thoughts that if revealed would shatter any possibility of happiness; a broken mirror, facade, piercing those walking past with its wailing, fallen shards. In response to the question lay a scintillating smile on the woman that caused an ache in her high, flawless cheekbones. An expression of tenderness lighting up and highlighting every single feature of her face. Brunette hair with honey-blonde streaks perfectly framing the crystal-shaped face, deep blue eyes that reflected a graveyard-like ocean. An empty, large body of water that resembled a calm yet disrupted state of mind. An ocean that could calm any person in need of strength and hope, yet leave them with lingering feelings of disturbance and inability. 

Waving the flimsy certificate around, Isabelle watched as her child recited the yearly mantra. “I made the honor roll!” The deadly jovialness that emitted from the larger body seeped into every corner of the room, turning a calm atmosphere into an excited, histrionic one. The older woman slowly reached for Claire’s hand, grabbing it and ushering her into their cramped living room. With a flick of the wrist, a series of cliched, romantic tunes filled the atmosphere. Amplified thumps pounded against the wood floor as legs danced and jumped around, leaving both individuals fatigued - the younger left wheezing, grasping simultaneously for any excess air and her inhaler. 

“Look at you go, that’s great! I’m so proud of you, Aphrodite!” The use of her since-birth nickname and sheer satisfaction in her mother’s voice was worth everything, even the collapsing lungs begging for assistance. She was brought in for another tender hold so tight that her lungs heaved further. This time, pillow-like lips made contact with an overly large forehead. It struck Claire as strange, though, the lack of vehemence in the action. Instead, there lay a piercing cold that taunted and provoked. An oddity. Nevertheless, the twelve year old child wasn’t about to delve into this peculiar mystery. “Didn’t I tell you to not over-exert yourself, though?” With Isabelle’s mouth still placed on her child’s temple, the speech came out muffled, nearly incomprehensible.

“Whatever.” A scoff resonated. “I’m not a kid anymore, I can handle myself. I have been for the past 7 years.” Frustration was apparent in her high timbre as she released a successive chain of forced exhales. Exemplified rings of guilt and torment hit Isabelle’s heart, she understood nothing if not the conflicting feelings her daughter was facing. At an age where most would be visiting malls and staying as far away from home as possible, Claire was an outcast. An invisible, vigorous power consistently pushed the isolated girl outside the imperceptible barrier and jeopardized any attempts she made at connecting. Her severe, persistent asthma subjected her to a great deal of harassment and unknown to her human-shield, it blemished what the adults in her life considered “untouched parts of her mind”. It baffled Claire, the extent to which her mother and family tried to shelter her from the horrors and debauchery of this world. They attempted to create a painting in which their baby could stay imprisoned; that of red tulips that swayed and twirled to the melody of the wind, joining all the other vegetation. Together, a collective of harmonious voices, they sang until the blue ripples smoothed into a state of nonbeing. The superficial cycle would continue for decades, no hindrances in its path. Alas, no patterns could fix the pain and suffering of the plants; their continued lack of motivation and purpose remained hidden on the surface. 

“Shhh, now. Let’s not start this again, yeah? You’re perfect as it is and we don’t need to do this a few days before Christmas.” An attempt to console the person she had let into this world, the one who kept her from breaking, from falling victim to the constant hurdles that never failed to appear. The lack of depth in Isabelle’s word choice was apparent, but Claire managed to make do and discontinue the mundane disagreement. Regardless of her reaction, the desperation loitered in the air, threatening to suffocate and drown the two. They waited in anticipation, almost waiting for the slice of tension to be handed to them. 

Claire decided to make the first move amidst the awkward silence, walking away with a quiet mutter of acknowledgement. What had been said, neither could quite understand. Isabelle discreetly moved to their kitchen and prepared an appetizer “feast” to dissipate the sudden barricade of communication that had made itself known. Bringing out a cream-coloured platter, she set it out onto their worn out, rusty counters and began setting any snacks they had left onto the blank canvas of welcoming. 

By the time she had managed to finish, night had hit. The moon amplified otherwise hidden stars that rested on the pond near them. Crickets had begun rehearsing their daily rituals as all else lay silent in their surroundings. The clouds overhead were brooding, dark with anticipation of the storm to come; however, they’d successfully avoided overshadowing the moon. Isabelle often wondered about the relationships of nature. How each distinct element conveys the crucial messages humankind constantly ignores. She longed to communicate with Mother Nature and her unique creations; the magnetic pull of turbulent danger. 

“Aphrodite!” Her voice had become raspy, beaten and deprived of the hydration it desperately needed. The only response she had managed to identify was the theme of the crickets, upbeat yet laced with warning. “Claire!” She called out again, this time with greater potency.

Following the lack of acknowledgement, Isabelle began trudging towards her daughter’s room. Swinging her door open, she found her daughter nestled into the nook of the large Panda she had received for her birthday. A watery smile lay on her face, tranquil and unknowing of the news she would receive in the coming days. Shuffling towards her, the older woman placed a gentle kiss on Claire’s cheekbone. Time seemingly stopped, working in their favor and allowing Isabelle to cherish the moment she was experiencing and would forever remember. With a final glance at the rusting grandfather clock placed in the corner of the room, which signaled midnight, she turned off the lights with an unnoticed smile, and quietly closed her daughter’s door. Peace was preserved. For now, if nothing else.