A space rescue signal mystery

Part One: Among the Stars (Science Fiction)

Commander Rachel Lawson floated through the dimly lit corridor of the Argus V, her footsteps barely audible on the metallic floor. The soft hum of the ship’s engine was the only sound, a comforting constant in the vast emptiness of space. She adjusted her visor, glancing at the control panel embedded in her wrist. They were nearing the uncharted sector known as the Nebula of Echoes, a region rumored to distort space and time. The mission was simple: chart a course through the nebula and collect data on its strange energy fluctuations.

As she approached the command deck, the doors slid open with a quiet hiss. Lieutenant Harris was already at his station, monitoring the sensors.

“Anything unusual?” Rachel asked, settling into her chair.

“Not yet, Commander,” Harris replied, his eyes never leaving the screen. “Just the usual static from the nebula. We’re about to breach the outer edge.”

Rachel nodded, her gaze shifting to the expansive view through the main viewport. The nebula was a swirling mass of colors, a brilliant display of cosmic gases and stardust. It was beautiful, but she knew better than to trust appearances. The Nebula of Echoes had a reputation for being unpredictable.

“Engage the ion thrusters,” she commanded. “Let’s take it slow and steady.”

As the ship moved forward, the colors outside seemed to pulse and shift, as if reacting to their presence. The static on the communication lines grew louder, a low hum that sent a shiver down Rachel’s spine.

“Strange,” Harris muttered. “I’m picking up a signal. It’s faint, but… there’s definitely something there.”

Rachel leaned forward. “Can you isolate it?”

Harris adjusted the dials, his brow furrowing in concentration. The static cleared slightly, revealing a garbled transmission. The words were barely discernible, but Rachel could make out a single phrase: “Help… trapped…”

Her heart raced. “Who’s transmitting? Can you get a location?”

“Trying, ma’am,” Harris replied, fingers flying over the controls. “It’s bouncing around, but it’s definitely coming from within the nebula.”

“Put it on the main speakers,” Rachel ordered. “And prepare a drone for remote investigation.”

As Harris worked, the transmission crackled through the ship’s speakers, the voice distorted and distant. “Help… trapped… need… can’t… hold on…”

Rachel’s mind raced. There were no known colonies or ships in this sector. Who could possibly be out here?

“Launching drone,” Harris announced.

The small drone detached from the hull of the Argus V and disappeared into the swirling colors of the nebula. Rachel watched its progress on the screen, her grip tightening on the armrest. The signal grew stronger as the drone ventured deeper.

Suddenly, the static intensified, and the drone’s feed went dark.

“Damn it,” Harris swore. “We lost the drone.”

Rachel’s jaw clenched. “Reel it back in. We need to know what’s out there.”

As Harris worked to retrieve the drone, the transmission continued to play, growing louder and more desperate. “Help… trapped… danger… can’t escape…”

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the transmission cut off. Silence fell over the command deck, the hum of the engines the only sound.

Rachel exchanged a glance with Harris. “What the hell was that?”

Before Harris could respond, the ship shuddered violently, throwing them both from their seats. Alarms blared as the control panels lit up with warnings.

“Commander, we’re caught in a gravitational pull!” Harris shouted, scrambling to his feet.

Rachel grabbed the edge of her console, her mind racing. “Engage reverse thrusters! Full power!”

The Argus V groaned as it struggled against the force pulling it deeper into the nebula. The colors outside the viewport twisted and swirled, faster and faster, until they were a blur.

“Commander, I can’t hold it!” Harris yelled. “We’re being pulled in!”

The ship lurched forward, and everything went black.

Part Two: A Deadly Puzzle (Crime)

Rachel awoke to the sound of distant sirens. Her head throbbed with pain, and her vision was blurry. She blinked several times, trying to focus. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled her nostrils, and she realized she was lying on a cold, hard surface. The soft glow of flickering fluorescent lights illuminated the small room.

She struggled to sit up, her muscles protesting with every movement. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that she was no longer aboard the Argus V. The walls were made of concrete, not metal, and the hum of the ship’s engines was replaced by the echo of footsteps outside the door.

Panic set in. Where was she? What had happened? She remembered the nebula, the transmission, the ship being pulled in—and then… nothing.

The door creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. He was tall and wore a dark trench coat, his face partially hidden under the brim of a fedora. His eyes were cold and calculating as he studied her.

“Commander Lawson, I presume,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Rachel’s heart raced. “Who are you? Where am I?”

The man smirked. “Welcome to New Haven, Commander. Or should I say… Detective?”

Detective? What was he talking about? She was a Commander, not a detective. But the more she tried to remember, the foggier her mind became. Pieces of memories flashed before her eyes—crime scenes, interrogations, a gun in her hand.

She clutched her head, a sharp pain stabbing through her skull. “I don’t understand…”

“You’ve been gone a long time,” the man continued, leaning against the doorframe. “But we need you back on the force. There’s been a murder, and we believe you’re the key to solving it.”

Murder. The word sent a chill down her spine. She saw flashes of a crime scene—blood splattered on a white wall, a lifeless body sprawled on the floor. She knew this scene. She had been there. But how?

“I… I’m not a detective,” she stammered. “I’m a Commander, a pilot—”

“Not anymore,” the man interrupted. “Your ship is gone, lost in the nebula. And you… you’re a detective now, whether you like it or not.”

Rachel felt the weight of his words sink in. Her ship, her crew—were they truly gone? She tried to focus, but her memories were a jumbled mess. She remembered the nebula, the signal, but now… now she also remembered New Haven, a city plagued by crime, and her role in it.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” she demanded, forcing herself to stand despite the dizziness.

The man reached into his coat and pulled out a badge. It was old, worn, but she recognized it. Her name was etched into the metal: Detective Rachel Lawson.

“This was found at the scene of the crime,” he said, tossing it to her. “We need you, Detective. There’s a killer out there, and they’re playing a dangerous game. Your game.”

Rachel caught the badge, her fingers tracing the letters. She knew this was real—she felt it in her bones. But how could it be? How could she be both a Commander in space and a detective in New Haven?

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “Tell me about the murder.”

The man’s expression softened slightly, as if he was relieved she was taking him seriously. “Victim’s name was John Parker. Found in his apartment, throat slit. No signs of forced entry. But the strange thing is, we found your fingerprints all over the place.”

Rachel’s blood ran cold. “My fingerprints? But I’ve never—”

“Like I said,” the man interrupted, “You’ve been gone a long time. Things have changed. And if we don’t catch this killer soon, more people are going to die.”

Rachel nodded, her mind racing with questions. She didn’t know how she had ended up here, but one thing was clear: she had to solve this case.

“Alright,” she said, slipping the badge into her pocket. “Let’s catch a killer.”

“I love it.” I whisper, holding the flowers in my hands. An arrangement of red, pink, and white roses. “Let’s get on.” Iris says, romantically.

We arrive at the restaurant, holding hands. “Reservation for Iris Donalaway.” The server leads us outside, holding two menus.

“This is like a dream.” I say, reading the menu. I glance up to see Iris smiling. “Maybe this is.” Her faces drops into this dead stare. No smiling, no life in her eyes, nothing. I look around to see everything turning dark, and everyone in the restaurant giving me the cold dead glare.

Have you ever had a piercing headache that makes you feel like your head will explode?

That’s how Kona feels right about now.

How is she supposed to concentrate on extrapolations when her mind is blended up in a blender?

“Kona, are you with us?” The screeching voice of her teacher shoots pins into her skull. “Can I go to the nurse?”

The teacher waves her to the door, and she gratefully takes her stuff and runs as best she can to the nurse.

Who of course isn’t there. That’s just her luck.

When she goes to the main office, they take on look at her flushed face and eyes screwed shut from pain and send her home.

“Kona, you’re running a fever!” Her mom says, eyebrows raising at the thermometer.

After that, her mom ordered her to bed. And that’s where she’s been all day. Laying in her bed, feeling like she’s dying.

Just the sight of food turns her stomach, but yet her belly aches for something.

“Ok sweetie, I’m turning in for the night. Wake me up if you need anything. I’m serious. Any time,” her mom says at her doorway.

“I promise I’ll get you if I feel worse,” Kona mumbles into her pillow.

Satisfied with the answer, her mom leaves to her own bedroom.

What feels like hours, but probably only one hour, she is still awake. This is officially the worst sickness she’s ever had.

She lifts her head to look at the clock, the moon, high in the sky, shines through her window. It catches her attention.

Her gaze is fixated on the full moon.

Suddenly something shifts within her. She slowly gets out of bed, and once the moonlight washes over her, the sickness and aches dissipate. Instantly.

She feels good. Better than good actually. Stronger.

As she basks in the moon’s rays, she feels something sharp cut her tongue. She winces at the sting and gets the taste of her blood. Reaching up to her mouth to wipe the metallic taste from her lips, her finger gets nicked by something.

Her teeth. But they aren’t blunt like her normal teeth. They are fangs.

She scrambles backwards towards the mirror in her room. What the hell is going on? This must be some weird dream. She’s having delusions from being sick. Right?

As she faces her reflection, she doesn’t even recognize herself. Fangs protrude from her mouth, sharp like a canine. Her hair has grown more inward on her face. Her eyes are a bit sharper, more pointed. And glowing. Glowing the blue of the moon.

Oh my god. She’s a fucking werewolf.

——— (Inspired by Teen Wolf because every once in a while I get in a Teen Wolf phase.)

Beaker Park sat nestled amongst blocks and blocks of residences, many of which were painted quaint and faded shades of blue, red, tan, and yellow, always wrapped in white trim. The old oak tree, which was perched mostly still in the middle of the field, was a beacon in the neighborhood. Sure, there were other trees in the 5-acre park, and there was the HOA-conforming landscaping around many of the homes that formed the perimeter of the park, none were quite like that old oak. The giant tree loomed over the park such that it’s shadow painted houses many blocks away, and it’s top could be seen from the gate to the subdivision, a few miles away.

That old oak tree had a trunk like you couldn’t believe. Every now and then the kids that played in the park would try to wrap their arms around it, to see just how big it was. One of the houses a block away belonged to Mrs. Ellis, who used the idea as an assignment for her 6th grade math class for the last 10 years. The class would take a Friday field trip to the park and have to measure the length of the arms stretched out, then add them up and back-calcuate the trunk diameter by the circumference. From there, they would be required to research how old the tree may be based on its size.

It was a fun experiment, the principal at her school had complimented her on it years ago. The problem with experiments though is that the result is always initially unknown. Such was the case on April 14th, 2006. As Mrs. Ellis sat on the bench about fifty yards from the tree, she watched a couple of the kids pushing each other on the swings that’d been strung from one of the branches that was bigger than some whole trees.

As they swung back and forth like those pendulum toys in the science classrooms, her stomach turned and her eyes began to water as she saw thousands upon thousands of leave’s simultaneously break free of the tree. Many of them were carried south by the wind, and many more drifted toward the earth. As they were hitting the ground, she broke free from her frozen state, and started running toward the kids which she could no longer see in the flurry of the leaves. She could hear them though, screaming out for her, for their mothers, for anyone.

Mrs. Ellis closed the gap within seconds, and as she burst through the whirlwind of green, she could find none of her students. Less than a minute later the leaves were gone from the sky, and they came to rest on the cool ground. She struggled to speak through the tears as she realized that just like the leaves from the branches, her class was all gone.

Weeks after weeks Skye lost track of how long his been locked in the warehouse the same thing happens every time torture Day and night it only stops when it’s time for food it’s barely enough. Skye is dragged back into the chair the torturer asks the same question

“Where are the weapon plans.”

The torturer looked into Skye’s tired eyes

“I will not comply.”

Skye responded once again the torturer
Was about to whip him again when Skye saw through his blooded vision another figure walked into the room

“That’s enough Jack don’t kill him.” The familiar voice said the figure moved closer

Skye noticed him as soon as the light splashed across his face

“Sargent Taylor?!.”

Skye said

“Your clever then you look Skye,.”

“Now if you don’t want Sebastian to get hurt you will reveal the weapon plans, or be decommissioned permanently.”

Skye coughed up some blood then said “I will NOT comply Sargent, not to a traitor like you..”

Skye realized he may have pushed is luck at that moment he saw Sargent Taylor get very close and grabbed his jaw. Skye saw how horrible Taylor looked part of his face was scared and slightly melted

“Your the reason the L.I.V.E. core building dropped on me!.” He growled his hand slipped to Skye’s throat. Then started to try to strangle him, before Skye blacked out he was saved by the phone ringing. Taylor stepped back then answered the phone

“What!.” He barked into the phone “wha- I’m sorry Sir I didn’t realize it was you.”

Taylor turned to walk out of the room he nodded for the torturer to continue Jack raised the whip to strike again then falters

Skye looked at him “why are you stopping?”

Jack glanced at him “your half dead … and this dosent feel right.” He sat the whip down on the counter

“Don’t tell me your feeling sympathetic.”

Jack picked up a knife and held it close to Skye’s face “don’t take my sympathy for an excuse to kill you, your only valuable till your not. then I’ll kill you…. And your family.”

Jack walked back to the table and put the knife down he walked out of the room

Skye sighed a breath of relief then tried to get his bearings there was no escape from this room there was only one door Maybe I should wait this out he told himself But he didn’t know how much longer he could take

He tensed up when the door opened again Jack returned with a med kit in hand

“Your going to fix me up?.”

“No point in torture if your dead.” Jack sat the med kit down on the table He quickly got a rag and rubbing alcohol He was about to press it to a wound when Skye said

“I’ll do it myself if you untie a hand.”

“That’s not gonna happen you might as well try to take me down the moment your untied.”

Jack touched a spot on Skye jaw with the clothe to clean it Skye flinched at the pain

“Try to hold still, I’m not gonna hold your hand cuz of the pain.”

Jack said ad he wiped the dripping blood “Did Taylor put you up to this? The first aid part I mean?.” Skye said then winced

“This is not evening tea, I don’t know why your making small talk.” Jack replied then Moved to a small cut under his left eye

After some silence Jack spoke “No he doesn’t know about me talking care of your wounds, he’d appreciate you living longer to see your downfall though.”

“That’s reassuring.” Skye said sarcastically

“I’m surprised you didn’t see the signs sooner considering you and Sebastian are apart of the 160th. I mean live spelled backwards is evil even a fool should know that.” He moved his hand to a cut across his right eyebrow Skye tried not to let the pain bother him but then again he was whipped so much that he lost track his body was sore and ached

“Relax, I can feel how tense you are.” Jack said softly

“Would you be able to relax in my situation?”

“That’s a fair point,.” Jack got up and grabbed a roll of bandages then lifted Skye’s shirt to clean a large gash in his side Once he was done cleaning the wounds he bandaged the large ones Then he got up and headed towards the door “You know all this suffering could end if you would comply.”

“If I did that then other people would suffer because of me.”

“Damn bastard.” Jack said under his breath then walked out of the room

I walked over to him and stabbed him, his mouth filling with blood. I allowed him one kiss to the one he loved most. I checked another one off my list. Only one more kill until I could live easy. I checked my tablet for the information on my next victim. I stumbled back. My next victim was my best friend. The one who took me to prom instead of the girl he wanted to make me feel better. The one who helped me get over my depression. The one with whom I shared my first kiss. I couldn’t do it, but I had to. It was the only way. I started crying. I got in my car and cried hard. I couldn’t do it. It was too much. I drove home, changing my outfit from my all black jumpsuit to the dress I wore to prom. It was a sweet orange, his favorite color. I got in my car, the one he had given me for my birthday when I was 19, and drove to his house. I rang the doorbell, it still being the melody I recorded for him when I was 16 and had a dream of having a career in music. He answered the door, shocked. I sobbed. “I’m sorry,” I cried. “I am so, so, sorry.” He looked at me confused, but when I unsheathed my dagger he wasn’t so confused. “Why?” He asked desperately. “I can’t-“ I started, trying to bite back the tears. I told him what I had told all my victims, except with more sympathy and sincerity than ever. “I’m so sorry. You get one kiss that can go to the one you love. I’m sorry.” I sobbed. I couldn’t take it anymore. He said one phrase that would change my life. “Okay,” he started, beginning to cry. “Then I choose you.” He pulled me into a kiss, that was warmer and sweeter than anything in the universe. I didn’t pull back, I didn’t do anything. I just did the and kissed him. When he finally pulled away, I couldn’t do it. I threw the dagger towards the street. I kissed him, and he looked me inside. Me slept together, got married, had kids, then finally, we died our final moments together by using the dagger that had brought us together.

“Stop,” I scream over my shoulder. Never mind my pleas, he chases anyways. My eyes dart wildly, my head spinning as I search for an escape.

“What did I tell you?” He roars, rushing forwards. I duck narrowly, grabbing at a limb to steady myself before I hit the damp, chilled ground.

“Ah-“ I catch myself with my palms and roll away from him, leaping to my feet like a hare and darting through the bushes.

He catches me, grabbing my wrists and tugging me into him. “Please,” I try to pull away. He pins me down after I fail an escape, and tickles me until I can’t breathe.

“What did I tell you?” He repeats laughing hard. “I told you- no games! This was suppose to be a calming hike!”

________ 🥀 ________

And with that being typed-

Hello, 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮! I hope everything is okay with you. I have a few announcements to make clinks wine glass these are for my wonderful followers (of which I am very happy for and cannot express it).

🅵🅾🆁 🅾🅽🅴, yessss, the romance series with Noè and Ophelia is doing just fine. I’m going slow, taking my time and doing my best!

🅵🅾🆁 🆃🆆🅾, sorry. SM is texting me. Can’t concentrate. Will come back later.

꒯ꋬꌦ ꓄ꅐꄲ: I’m back. Where was I?

Ahhh. Alright. Okay! So has anyone read “Christmas Plans” by me? Soooo, if you haven’t, you can do that. But I plan to make a part two! And I need a list of ppl that would like to be in it, personally people whom I know to some extent, so I can get your character right. If you have a long name, you can put what you’d wanna be called (doesn’t have to be your real name). I’ll put those few below (some will be there without consent because I had them in the other story).

1. Shadow Queen as RYLEE
2. Shadow Mind as RAVI
3. Kallian as KALLIAN
4. Fluffy as FLUFFY
5. Skye Wander as SKYE
6. Teenage Girl as VALERIE
7. Aster as ASTER
8. Pinkberries23 as BERRY
9. Linda Crate as ALICE
10. Mia as MIA
11. A.J. Kit and AJ KIT (or AJ)
12. SHADOW as SHAD

All the places are taken! Thank you all for doing this; it means a lot. I plan on posting the story the day before Valentines Day! So look for yourselves in the story then!

He cupped my face gently with his calloused hands and looked deeply into my eyes. He was close enough that I could study all the fine lines and imperfections of his face. I could see the flecks of brown embedded in his green irises. I felt captivated in his spell with just one look. He stared into my face like he was trying to memorize it, almost with a certain air of despair. It was as if he was suffering from an ailment and drinking my face with his gaze was the only elixir that could cure him. I felt my brow furrow together with confusion. The question must have been written on my face. The sun hit the natural highlights of his chestnut hair and once again my mind went blank. My breath caught in my throat as I took in the beauty of him. Basking in the warm glow of the sun he leaned in, face mere inches from mine. The smell of the peppermint on his breath and the pine from the aftershave on his skin crept onto my palate, overloading my senses. His lips brushed mine, and the kiss was warm and quick. If I had blinked I would have missed it.

He pulled back and his expression was immediately pained. I could tell that something else was going on behind those eyes and no sooner did that thought cross my mind did I feel this pain deep in my belly. It was sharp at first but then turned into a strong ache that settled deep inside me. His eyes widened, clearly panicked. I looked down to see his fist near my abdomen and just as fast as the blade had gone in, he ripped it back out. I felt a strong, sharp, burning sensation and cupped my wounds in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding, but it was too late…He knew it. I knew it. I stared at him, and was slightly startled when I felt blood pooling in my mouth. One tear fell from those green eyes, and my knees hit the floor. Whether it was blood loss or shock, I will never know, my knees could no longer support my weight.

“W-Why?” I managed to splutter out. “Better you, than me, “ he stated back, matter-of-factly.

I had fallen to my side, while the hilt from the knife in my waistband dug into my hip.

A pink ribbon is tied in her short golden brown hair, she must have tied it in haste as it looks half undone as she takes coffee orders from the line in haste. She seems anxious today, her voice is more shrill than usual, her hands shake as she types the orders and her name tag is ascrew: Aurora. Even her eyes dart around nervously as I watch her.

I wonder if she's expecting someone, or afraid of someone.

I survey the room but I cannot determine if her eyes land on anyone. I feel my fists clench around my mug of coffee as I think about someone being in here who might hurt her. I look at her anxious elf like face, hoping that she will sense that someone here would die to protect her.

In my feverish dreams she will suddenly turn and lock eyes with me, her rose petal pink lips turning up into a smile and a light warm blush covering her lightly freckled cheeks. Her thin brown brows would scrunch together like they did when she was listening to a order as she would take off her apron, throwing it at at her coworker, "I'm taking my fifteen!" she would call absentmindedly as she walked straight to me.

People would jump out of her way as he walked slowly towards me, our eyes locked, and blind to everyone else.

"Aurora..." I would whisper as I have imagined so many times before and she would smile shyly, tucking a short strand of golden hair behind her pointed ear.

"What's your name?" she would ask, her dark green eyes softening, and I could finally tell her the five words that made up my name, to share a small part of myself with her.

Then, she would take my hand and --

"Sir, more coffee?" her voice brings me back to reality. Aurora is right in front of me except her dark green eyes are sharp and tense as she grips her pot of coffee. Someone has taken over for her at the front as she walks around giving refills.

She raises a brow, and I realise I have yet to answer but my throat has gone dry at the sight of her so close to me, close enough to touch.

"Sir?" she asks again, motioning to my empty mug.

"Oh yes, please. Thank you..." I pretend to read off her name tag as if her name hasn't been haunting me for many weeks now, "Aurora ." She smiles politely at me as I extend my mug for her to pour.

She is too perfect for me, but who could blame me for trying?

"What time do you close?" I ask her, trying to not sound as nervous as I feel. "We close up at eight." She's almost done pouring, so it's now or never.

"Would you, uh, like to get dinner after? With me?" I smile at her, pulling a nervous hand through my hair. "Oh," her smile falters and I know I've messed up. "Only if you want to." I quickly say. Her eyes dart around, nervous as she finishes pouring the coffee.

"I, um, I think I have plans."

"Oh alright, maybe another time then."

"I-I have a boyfriend. Sorry." She walks off to the next table but I can see I've spooked her as her shoulders tense. I pack up my things slowly as she walks up to her manager, speaking in hushed worry so quiet I only catch a few words: "Creepy letters," "Staring at me" and "Asked me out".

They both look at me but I don't look back as I get up to leave.

I try to walk out calmly, smiling at them both before I do, as anger takes full hold over me. I can't believe she would think of me like that. I remember our first conversation a few minutes after the coffee store had opened, before I had fallen head over heels in love with her. "Do you like working here?" I had asked as she put my chai tea together.

She had looked down and blushed before lowering her voice and leaning in towards me, as if telling me a secret. "Not at all. I have severe social anxiety, but my parents though I should try and get more out of my shell during my gap year. If I can build up enough confidence, I'll break up with my boyfriend." She had laughed but I hadn't missed how when the light hit her just right there was the outline of a bruise under her cheek.

I had waited, waited to see her boyfriend. I had come everyday for months until I had seen him. He had walked in as if he owned the place with blue scrubs on and walked up to her as she was making coffee refill rounds, grabbed her waist and kissed her so hard she almost spilled the coffee all over herself.

I had waited for him to leave and followed him out as he got into his blue sedan. I followed him to the hospital, two cars behind to make sure he couldn't tell. I parked a few spaces away from him and watched as he ran out to get back to work.

It was five hours until he came back out; dark. Perfect.

With my car, I can over him sixteen times before fleeing the scene. I drove a few miles East on the back road's to where I knew no one would be and security cameras would see before I set my car on fire and walked eight miles back home.

I had started writing to her, telling her I was her secret admirer.

Now, I wait in my car once more as they close up while my finger taps impatiently on my car wheel. Aurora shouldn't have done that, she shouldn't have lied and called me creepy. My enture body is buzzing with pain and I can't wait to show her that pain. I can't wait to show her how it feels to have your insides pulled out and smeared all over you. I can't wait to show her how much I love her because if I can't have her no one will.

I know she always leaves last. I had watched her so many nights before, making sure she was safe before I left.

Everyone else files out first, just as I thought. They have all already left by the time she comes out, her purse slung over her shoulder and her other hand untying her pink ribbon from her short golden hair.

I make a note to keep that pink ribbon once I'm done with her.

I held your hand

While you spoke with a doctor

I looked at him and smiled

He looked at me worriedly

You took a bottle of candy from him

And we were on our way

I am now fifteen

Trapped on my bed

My legs don’t work anymore

Neither do my thoughts

I never felt happy anymore

Not since I met that worried doctor

I felt closed in

Like a dog in a kennel

The rats drove me crazy

They made me go insane

The doctors came

And took me away

They took away my candy

And locked me in a room

The isolation made me realize

The crazy one was you

Those candies you gave me

Made me hear the rats

They made me go insane

That is until now

I’m out of that awful place now

You’re in a cage

Feeling how you made me feel

To this day I still wonder

What made you do that to me, my mother?