The Mask Man In The Woods

1.

CHAPTER | ONE

Eleven years later...

"Isn't she the daughter of the town drunk?"

"Aye, she is. Weird to see her 'ere, though. She moved to the city a couple years ago."

"She did? She left her mother all alone?"

"Aye. She basically left her to die."

"Then why is she here?"

"Who knows? Maybe she came to just claim all 'er mama's money."

"Ha! Like that drunk even has money! You and I both know that she wasted that money on all the booze she could get."

I squeezed my upper arms tighter until my knuckles turned white. I sucked in a deep breath to calm down, but the lump in my throat only grew thicker to the point where it grew painful to swallow. My fingers curled around on bed sheets as I pathetically sobbed. The voices continued to echo.

"No, no, wait. Maybe she just wanted to see her poor mama get buried since nobody 'ere likes her."

"Well, who the hell likes a drunk? They're just a walking corpse of waste. They're useless and lost. What's the point in mourning for 'em?"

I curled up in a ball, facing the wall.

"Honey... Can we talk now?"

I opened my eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. I sat up, almost jumping ten feet in the air to see Javon sitting on the bed.

I quickly turned away, rubbing my eyes and cheeks turning red in embarrassment at having been caught in such a poor state.

"Y-Yeah. What's, uh, u-up?" I said, voice hoarse.

"You haven't eaten since we got back from the funeral." He stated, cutting right to the chase.

I lowered my hand and chewed on the inside of my cheek. "Oh."

Javon raised his eyebrows. "'Oh'? That's all you have to say?"

"Um... I'm not hungry."

"That's what you've been saying yesterday."

I rubbed my palms together and averted my eyes. "I..." I trailed off, not really knowing how to defend myself. I didn't have the energy to get out of this bed, much less do other things like eating.

Javon exhaled through his nose. "I'm really sorry about your mom's death. I know. This is hard for you to move on, but I know your mom won't be happy to know that you're starving yourself."

"She... She died hating me. Why would she worry about me?" I whispered, finally looking up to meet Javon's eyes.

Javon reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and leaning forward until our foreheads touched. "She never hated you. She was just upset when you left to move to the city."

I sniffled as a fresh wave of tears washed over me.

It was only last week when I received a call from one of my mama's only friend. He told me that my mama was found dead in her bedroom from alcohol poisoning. I returned to my hometown and went numb.

This couldn't be real. My mama wasn't dead. She wasn't the town drunk. She wasn't hated. She wasn't lost. She wasn't a waste.

But yet that was all I heard as we drove through town. A waste, they said. A good for nothing drunk, they said. Nothing to mourn about, they said.