"Where were you?" It was the first thing being tossed at me as soon as I was inside the foyer of my house. My mom stood in front of me, blocking my way.

I was aware that she would get a call from my school because I had missed out on my studies for a day. "Some place," I answered, sidestepping her but she stopped me with an arm.

From the looks of it, she didn't like my curt reply. She folded her arms across her chest and pursed her lips. I swear sometimes she could turn into a strict warden. "You and I, we both know I wasn't looking for that answer."

"Leave it, mom. I don't wanna talk about it right now." I saw the evident hurt in her eyes and I felt like kicking myself. Since I couldn't take back my harsh words, I left her to go to my room and she didn't even stop me this time.

Once inside my room, I made a beeline towards the bathroom to take a shower. Stripping from the sweaty clothes, I slowly traced my fingers on a thick protruding scar across my stomach. That red slash stood out the most on my pale skin.

After continuously scrubbing my body until it was all red and blotchy, I exited the bathroom in my loose and comfy pajamas.

Physically, my body was itching me to make use of the punching bag but mentally, I was tired and drained. On the other hand, my soft bed was calling out to me and I knew that I needed to sleep it off.

Laying down on my bed, I was about to close my eyes when someone opened my bedroom door. I wasn't surprised to see my mom because she never knocks whenever she's mad or hurt. She was carrying two mugs of my favorite cold coffee. Its aroma instantly calmed me down.

My mom looked around my room but I could tell that her mind was elsewhere. I lazily sat up and waited for her to speak first. "You were at the precinct." It was a statement and she uttered it without missing a beat.

I was caught off guard to say the least. I couldn't tell how she knew but it was the downright creepy mom instinct. "I told you to drop it, mo-"

"No!" Not only was I shocked by her shout but she was too. She closed her eyes to regain her composure and opened them back again. "No," she repeated, this time in a low voice.

"What's the matter with you, mom?" I asked her, genuinely concerned and sat up straighter.

"How ironic of you to ask that," she said softly and sat on my bed, facing me. She held out a mug to me and I took it before placing it on the bedside drawer and she did the same.

Her words were like a bullet piercing through my head because they were true. Not knowing how to reply to that, I stared at my lap to hide my guilt.

"I know I've told you to take your time for things that you don't wanna talk about and I respect that as well. I respect your space but there are things you shouldn't hide from me. I am your mother." She sounded so broken that I didn't have the strength to look into her eyes. "You know, I always pray for you to talk to me. Just about anything but I also know why you don't."

This time I finally looked up at her, my own face screaming vulnerability. I've always been so soaked up in my own storm that I overlook the fact that the others are brewing within it too. I forget that the people who love and care for me might be suffering more than I do. Especially when I don't voice out my feelings and emotions to them.

"You don't because you think you're gonna worry us with your things. But what if we want that worry? What if we want to worry about you?" She asked me, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I instantly crawled toward her and wiped them off with my thumbs. "I am sorry, mom. I-I… I didn't know it was…" I trailed off and hung my head low in shame.

"Don't be. But it would be really awesome if you'd just be more open instead of bottling everything up inside," she said in her consoling voice. Running her hands through my hair, she smiled softly. "I just wanna be a part of your world."

"What are you saying, mum? You are a part of my world," I replied, perplexed.

"No, the world wherein you haven't included anyone yet. The world where you think you're stuck, unable to escape. The world where you cry yourself to sleep with silent tears. The world where you forget how to stay strong. I wanna be a part of that world. I want to bring you out of there," she whispered, sorrow swirling in her visage.

My lip quivered and I wrapped my arms around her in a tight grip. "But what - what if I can't escape," I mumbled, my sentence coming out in chokes.

"Ser, honey," she began, pulling me away from her and holding my face in her hands. "Remember this one thing. Remember that you hold the key to your own body. You can unlock your caged self and get out but… there's a catch for everything. You can only leave if you unlock yourself. You might think that you're stuffed in there because of someone else then you should also know that you can escape on your own terms whenever you want. Stop punishing yourself and let people help you out. Let yourself help you out," she finished, wiping my face.

I didn't even realize that I was a crying mess until she was cleaning my tears. "Thank you," I croaked with a grin. I might have looked like a clown because I was both crying and smiling at the same time.

She just chuckled. "No problem. Oh, and don't hide your tears from me. I want to let you know that crying helps in coping up with things, okay?" She told me sternly, going back to her mama mode.

I nodded my head but gave her a weird look. "But it also messes everything up. There's snot everywhere on my face," I joked and soon we were both laughing like maniacs.

"True." She made a disgusted face but I know she was just teasing me. "So… are you gonna tell me what Caleb told you?"

"Maybe tomorrow…?"

"Tomorrow then." She nodded to herself. "Okay." She slapped her thighs before standing up to leave.

"Hey, mom! Wait up," I called out when she had almost reached the door. She looked over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow for me to continue. "Did Caleb tell you that I was at the precinct?"

My mom shook her head with a sly smile. "No, I just know your pattern."

"What do you mean?" I laughed, confused.

"Never mind." She waved it off and pointed towards my bedside drawer. "Do enjoy your now warm coffee." She smirked teasingly.

I glanced at where she was pointing and frowned. My favorite cold coffee really lost all its "coolness". Pun intended. "You're not gonna have yours?" I asked, lifting up the second mug.

"Nah, I'll pass," she chirped and left the room.

For the first time in eons, an earnest smile formed on my lips. The usually heavy feeling inside my chest stuttered a bit and I felt like I could breathe again. I began giggling to myself. However, I was cut off when my phone started vibrating on my bed.

With furrowed brows, I opened Distap to see the Coachella group going off with some messages. I completely ignored them because I remembered something.

My fingers hovered over 2 Brain Cells' chat to message him about something that's been bothering me a lot. Taking a deep breath, I asked him the burning question.

Yours Truly:
You know who I am but it's only fair if you tell me who you are too.

2 Brain Cells:
First let me ask you this. Do you have more than 2 brain cells unlike me?

Yours Truly:
Not that I've counted but I am pretty sure, yes. I do have more than 2 brain cells unlike you ;)

2 Brain Cells:
Good. Now… since you're so smart with so many brain cells, how about you figure out who I am on your own? *smirks*

Yours Truly:
Are you challenging me?

2 Brain Cells:
Are you capable enough to take my challenge?

Yours Truly:
I'll have you know that I'll take it head on. Oh, and never second guess my capabilities.

2 Brain Cells:
Oh, but it'll only be proven once your period of seven days is over. That's right, seven days. That's all I give. Good luck :)

Yours Truly:
Ha, deal!

2 Brain Cells:
Imagine me spitting on your hand to seal the deal.

Yours Truly:
Imagine me punching you on your face with my hand that's covered in your imaginary spit -_-
P.S.: You're supposed to spit on your own hand.

2 Brain Cells:
I know. *smirks*

~♡☆~♡☆~♡☆~♡☆~♡☆~♡☆~♡☆~

Word count: 1547
Total count: 7598