Friend or foe

My mother shakily cleaned up the visitor's wounds as I kindled the fire in the hearth, my grandmother sat quietly opposite them. The silence lingered in the room for a while occasionally interrupted by the ailing one's sobs and my mum's fast beating heart which I could audibly hear. Her worries I couldn't tell until she spoke.

"Chan really has to pay for the way he has been treating you. I mean how did you endure the torture all this years Becca?" my mother questioned, pain and anger written on her face.

Then it clicked in my head, my mom spoke about only one friend whom she cherished like a sister. She left our town a few months before I was born, married to a rich man from the neighboring town. 'I guess she missed the complete moon's absence saga' I said to myself.

With the way my mom spoke highly of her I was meant to like Becca, but as I looked at her swollen face, I did not feel a thing; neither like, love nor hate. But after my dream that night, my mind chose what to believe.

In a dark room, I stood still trying to make out my surrounding until I heard rapid taps on the floor, suddenly the darkness dissipated and I saw the outline of a woman leaning on the wall, it was no one but my mother. Something caught the outline's attention, its head turned rapidly; another human form appeared from the corner of the room walking steadily towards her. At the opposite corner a replica of the other appeared as well, minutes later all I could hear was a scream in my mother's voice.

The images turned blurry and like the change of a scene in the weekend's play at the town hall, my eyes welcomed the form of another woman whom I was sure wasn't my mum. She stood whispering to the two robot like figures from earlier, although I could not clearly hear what she whispered, I caught;

"I know she is my closest, but trust me it is for the greater good. The moon walks with us" and she made the reverence sign.

When I woke, I was confident Becca had a lot to do with whatever had happened in the past, as I made a mental note to ask my mother a few questions; I also decided to keep an eye on her throughout her stay as well as keep a distance until I deciphered who she really was.

I had no interest whatsoever in going back to the site, so I decided to visit priest at noon. As I ate my breakfast, I watched Becca with caution, she looked so frail and innocent like she would not hurt a fly.

"had a goodnight rest?" she struggled to say when the silence lingered long.

"I should ask you, I am hale and hearty" I replied.

I could sense my sharp mother's looks screaming 'manners' but I did not care.

"she has quite your sharp mouth Yvonne" she said to my mother who only chuckled.

My mother followed me to my room after breakfast and pleaded that I be nice for just a few days.

"but mother I do not like her" I said.

"she is my best friend, the closest I have asides you and your grandmother" she replied rubbing my hair.

"and priest?" I asked with a smile.

"and priest" she affirmed

"hope you don't mind me asking something about your past?" I asked.

"let's hear it"

"did you at any point get hurt by two men in a dark alley?" I asked.

She went silent.

"mother"

"mother"

"yes Luna, on the night I was raped" she said quietly.

"I knew it" I exclaimed.

She looked at me confused.

"your friend had a hand in it" I said confidently.

"why would you say a thing like that?"

"because I saw it mother, I had a dream last night"

My mother chuckled and explained that dreams cannot always be related to reality.

"then how did I know about the two men or the lonely alley?" I said as I described every detail to her.

She then turned quiet.

"we'll talk to priest, but then you can help heal my friend you kn…

"no" I interrupted "I will never heal anyone I know nothing about. Plus, I don't understand why everything has to be priest, can't I at least figure anything out myself" I asked angrily.

Then I sensed something, a presence standing just outside my door. My grandmother had gone to work only Becca was in the sitting room. Quickly I opened my door only to find no one but small piece of clothing that was stuck to the door handle and was clearly torn when the owner was fleeing.

Dear reader, you know how much I love my instincts. I stood at the door holding the piece of cloth which obviously was no one else's but our dear unwell guest.