Chapter IV ~ I told you, I can't have coffee ~

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A/N: Woah, sorry for such a long chapter!

This is just the last chapter before a small hiatus that's all!

Anyway, I hope you like it!

A snail is climbing up the windowsill
Into your room, after a night of rain.
You call me into see, and I explain
That it would be unkind to leave it there:
It might crawl to the floor; we must take care that no one squashes it.
You understand and carry it outside, with careful hand, to eat a daffodil.

I see, then, that a kind of faith prevails:
Your gentleness is mounded still by words
From me, who have trapped mice and shot wild birds.
From me, who drowned your puppies, who betrayed your closest relatives, and who purveyed
The harshest kind of truth to many another
But that is how things are: I am you mother,
And we are kind to snails.

Sometimes... when I think too much - I hate mother.

When I think too much, I realize that she was cruel by keeping up this fantasy... this facade to Lucas.

She had would have been the best one to tell Lucas about his illness. But no... she dumped that heavy responsibility on me. She had all the time in the world to tell him... I just don't understand why she didn't.

Sometimes - when I think to much, I think that she did it on purpose - forcing me to keep the secret - it's torture... it really is. She fed the fantasy that she loved Lucas... when in reality, I don't think she did.

I had always been the one left to Look after him because no one else would.

I laid beside Lucas as he slept. He was curled up slightly, hugging his silk yellow blanket but despite how close I was to him, he was cold. He didn't give of any warmth.

Lucas' blonde hair was messy... but in the case that a few stray hairs were out of place from his usual style. Lucas' hair had always been thick and coarse and in the mornings mother would always brush it until it was like silk. Lucas kept up the tradition whereas I didn't.

As he slept, Morning tears began to drip onto his cheeks as he yawned. The tears tainted his pink tinted cheeks.

The morning sunlight leaked into the house through the curtains. It caused me to sit up and watch the empty house flood with rays of light. Everything... every object, every drop of water from the tap in the bathroom I could hear to the sound of the wind washing up against the windows. Everything had been ruined by what happened last night.

Things felt disjointed... but close to feeling familiar. Like a puzzle piece that was so close to finishing the picture but it didn't fit. Like hitting the wrong piano key by the smallest inch... or as Lucas would say: 'Like rambling on about something and then immediately forgetting what you said'

I pushed myself out of bed, being careful not to disturb Lucas. I got to my feet and looked down at him sleeping peacefully. I thought he must have been pretty warm as he slept as he was wearing all of his clothes.

A wine red sweater, a white collar shirt underneath along with his denim shorts and knee high socks clothed his small body. The sleeves of his sweater cover his palms and his knee high socks were something that he wore most of the time - sometimes even to bed.

Tiredly, I let out a sigh and smiled to myself calmly. I pulled the cover off Lucas carefully before sliding the silk blanket out from his hands and laying it over him.

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