it?

one of my most treasured memory is my mother smiling.. i still remember it as it was yesterday.. what am i saying, it was yesterday. but today, she won't be able to smile ever again. because she angered it?

*Yesterday.*

"Grace, help me unpack your luggage, please!? You just came and you are already lazying around... Come on!!"

"Okay! Okay!! No need to be a pushover... I'm coming."

"Thank you.."

That's my father. And he's a police captain. Today is the first day he took holidays off of work. Mother and I struggled to get him here and we made it thanks to mother's skills at bed.

Anyway, his name's Carl. And my mother's Tracie. We brought a chalet and will be resting in it for a while.

We just arrived today. So, I must do chores and visit the house. I was forced to, to be precise.

"Less talking, more chores.."

Father is always too much. Sometimes, I feel like he's acting more like a cop than a father with me.

At least, he's alive. He's making mother happy..

"Carl!! The door's stuck!!!"

Ohh yeah, I call him Carl. I never once called him, Father. Even as a child. It's my mother who told me that..

"You must be gentle. This house's old by centuries. Built just for us.."

"Cool story, but the door's still stuck. Maybe mom will be able to--"

"Shhh!! Don't worry, Grace. I've got it. It's not a stupid door that will stop this cop. I just need to thrust right here and bam!! It will open."

"Carl??"

"Don't talk. I'm getting ready..."

"The door opened. Mom opened it with a remote control. No need to 'Thrust'.... Seriously.."

"Honey, you were too early. I was getting ready. At least, she didn't find us.. Lock the door when I go in, will you? I have an idea..."

"Sure, babe.."

That is a desperate way to gain my love. Close to bribing. My mother's not a good liar and Carl is all but the word wise. Since I was born, he tried things like that. And each time, it was him before me. So I stopped believing in him since then.

*Door thuds.*

"Ohh no!! The door closed and locked behind us... Don't worry, Grace... I have the remo--- I don't have the remote.. Shit!!!"

"This is what I call, checkmate."

When suddenly, a man started screaming in the house. I could hear it resonate throughout every wall. And it was getting closer. Closer. Closer, until the door opened. Revealing my mother with the remote.

"Did I scare you??.... Come on, we must clean the house.. Haha, I pranked you both so easily. You had that scary face...Duh.."

Compared to Carl, Mother is a prankster. More childish than me. That's why it is easier for me to relate to her. I love my mom and she's the only one reason I am content in my daily life....

"Dear, the screaming man was a bit too much, don't you think?? You scared the shit out of me.. I know it was a prank but still, go easy on me next time."

"....Scream..man?? I just locked the door. Is he trying to scare me??? That bastard.."

Later, it was time to dine. My mother made scrambled eggs and fried chicken. Carl did nothing, but sit and wait. And I installed the table and dishes.

"...Thank god for the food offered to us. Amen.."

"Mom made the food. Not your god."

"Grace!!?"

"Honey, don't say that... We must always thank god for giving us this love. Okay?"

"Not okay, Mother. You gave birth to me. You nearly died for me. You taught me. You helped me. You were here for me. Not god. Not even my useless father.."

I didn't meant everything I said. I.... I'm just angrry at Carl for not caring about me. At school, my friend never stopped praising how much their fathers' so cool. And I couldn't. My father is a cop. A workaholic. And he never acted as a father to me---

When suddenly, a man started screaming again. But it was feint. Coming from my room. Curious, I looked in and found nothing. But the man screaming was still around. As if the scream was looking at me. I got out of the room and locked the door.

"What is going on??"

*AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH...*

It resonated in my head. It was around me. It persisted, until, I saw it? Facing a painting on the wall. There was nothing on it but, a pair of eyes. Round cold eyes following my movement. The screaming didn't stop and the pair of eyes stared at me. So, I started to walk towards the painting. I wanted to touch it. I wanted to--

"Grace?!? What happened to you..? No, My Grace!!! Why did you pluck out your eyes!!? Why!!!? I'm sorry I screamed on you. As your father, I should have tried to figure out why you are angry. Instead, I kept being ignorant. I'm So Sorry My Grave!!!!"