Page 22 of Roses and Skulls

Mom pushes me onto my back so she can see my face. “What? Just because you didn’t want to go to New York with her?”

I roll back over, staring at the mural she painted for me when she was pregnant with me. It’s beautiful. I wish I could run away to the place on my wall. I wonder if it’s a real place or if it came from her imagination.

“Baby, talk to me.”

It’s fine, mom. She’s leaving, people move on. People leave, it’s a fact of life.

“I’ll never leave you,” she whispers in my ear.

I laugh silently.It’s inevitable that one of us is going to leave the other. It’s just a matter of time.

She sits up, pulling me with her. Her eyes bounce over mine, searching. Mine do the same. I’ve never looked at her as someone besides my mom. Who is she? Is she capable of murdering someone?

“You are right. But while I’m on this earth, know one thing, Billie Rose, I’ll be here for you.”

Would you kill for me?My phone asks on my behalf.

Without hesitation, not even a blink of an eye, she responds. “Absolutely. I’d kill or die for you, Billie Rose. I protect what’s mine, at all costs. Sometimes, things happen that are out of our control. Like the accident. But I would do anything for you.” She runs a piece of my hair through her fingers before tucking it behind my ear.

One thing I admire about my mom, is that she’s straight forward. She’s true to her word and she always tries to protect me, but I don’t know if that necessarily was the best thing for me. My parents didn’t allow me the space to learn how to deal with problems or how to protect myself.

I’m going to go outside and work on my new chime,I tell her.

She nods, backing off my bed. “You know where to find me if you decide you want to talk.”

I ignore her as she leaves, busying myself with putting on my shoes.

She pauses at my door. “I bought some new chain for your chimes when I was picking up paint. I left it on the bench in my art room.”

Thanks,I tell her.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on? Besides your fight with Lanie?”

I pull on the laces of my shoe before typing my answer.There’s nothing, mom. I’m fine.

Before I head outside, I jog down the stairs to pick up the chain she bought. I hate it down here. It’s creepy.

As I’m grabbing the sack from the art supply store, I let my eyes wander over her paintings. They are beautiful. She’s so talented. I wish I had one ounce of her artistic ability.

When I close the door to her room, I notice the door across the hall is cracked open. Hm, that’s strange. It’s always been locked. I’ve never been in there. Once, I asked about it, she told me dad stored guns in there and it needed to stay locked for safety.

Maybe I should take one. I don’t know how to use a gun but I’m sure I could learn by watching a video off the internet. You can learn anything there.

I’m going to kill Draven. A gun would be the easiest way to do that but probably the least satisfying option. Still, I could use it for protection.

I walk down the hall and glance up the stairs, making sure no one is around. After I slide into the room, I click the door closed behind me, then turn on the lights.

When the room illuminates, I cover my mouth to stifle a scream.

What the fuck is this?

I make my way to the center of the room, spinning in a circle as I take in all the colors swirling around me.

There are no guns here.

It’s an empty room.

It’s hell.

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