The house still smelt like home, just like his father.
Yet instead of laughter, shouting, crying or any sound the room was engulfed with silence.
He was tired.
The kind of tiredness that hadn't come from endurance but one that came from one's life feeling heavy.
Creak.
His boot caused the floor to creak — yet he stood in the same spot.
Minutes — no hours had passed as he listened to…
Nothing.
The house felt far too big, far too alive — he could hear the house breathe in and out yet all that life and no warm voice could be heard. He didn't know it back then but he was awaiting a welcome home.
One that would never be granted.
He stared at the mirror — it stared back.
Silver hair.
He let out a tiny laugh that came out of his throat like it was desperately trying to come out, to cut the eternal silence.
"It's all…
Because of this."
He gently brushed his fingertips on his hair.
"This…
Silver hair."
He blinked.
"Father never had it, neither did mum…
So…
Why me?"
His words vibrated in the silent house, digging into his ears over and over.
Crack.
The glass began to crack — his hand gripping the mirror.
His breath caused the mirror to fog up.
"That's why…
That's why they call me that word."
Abynt
The words stayed in his soul.
Hs fist slammed on the desk.
Dust and shards of wood scattered from the impact.
His eyes twitched as he slowly lifted his face to watch the mirror.
There it was again.
"I never asked for this."
His fist gripped as silver threads of hair stared back at the man.
***
He wanted air.
No, he was desperate for it.
His lungs and chest felt heavy, his vision blurry.
He felt like his entire being was going to implode.
Creak.
The door opened — a cold chill danced past him.
Outside, the world kept walking, kept singing, kept talking as if nothing had changed.
Grass bent under the wind.
The trees sang, clouds crawled through the sky.
He stepped forward — the world paused its grasp .
Branches stopped all movement.
The air had lost the weight it once had.
Grass remained still.
It was cold and alone.
The wind picked up as a breeze began to dance.
Thump.
Blood had rushed and beat in his heart — the dance had ended. He wondered to himself if the world was mocking him.
So even nature is afraid of me.
He watched the clouds as he awaited the breeze to pick up once again…
Silence.
His wish was granted — yet something came with it.
Smoke.
Burnt wood and a smoky sensation filled his nose.
The man turned his head slowly, why did it make his skin shiver?
The winds blew and then he heard it.
Those words.
One he hadn't heard in so long.
"Kairo."
The word came in warm yet it made him cold.
His entire being froze. He felt like his feet couldn't move and his entire body was chained.
"Kairo…"
The word's came out faster this time.
Yet he refused to move as his eyes stayed glued on the tree in front of him.
THUMP.
THUMP.
"I know you can hear me."
She stopped walking as ash fell out slowly — faint cracks could be heard from the cigarette she held.
Six years.
Why now?
The man's head scrambled with questions.
Questions that desperately wanted to leave his tongue — yet they wouldn't come out.
Crackle.
A trail of ash dripped as she blew into her cigarette once again.
The smoke curled through him.
"You've grown."
He didn't answer.
THUMP.
THUMP.
"You look like him."
I don't.
His chest heavy as he finally relearnt how to speak.
"Six…
Years."
His voice cracked.
His eyes burnt.
Trembling.
The lady let out a slight deep breath
"Don't…
Make me laugh, why are you here? Why now… why not yesterday, why not a month ago — but today of all days?"
He turned to face her.
She took a step back.
"You've…
You've been gone for so long and everyone still adores you — everyone still loves dad…
But me?
They look at me like I'm a…
Leech."
She raised her hand as she blinked.
His feet tapping the ground.
The air between them felt so tight, that the world would slice in half.
"So tell me…
Mum — what the hell do you want?"
"Is that any way to speak to your mo-"
"— To what?
To my mother?
His words cut her words.
His voice began to shake.
Eyes dried up like sand.
"Is that how people should… treat me?
How they should talk to me?
How they should look at me?
Talk to me?
Stare at me?"
His words snapped through the air, his teeth clenched.
Her eyes opened wide.
He blinked heavily as he took a step towards her, his voice shaking.
"Is that…
Is that, anyway, to talk to someone who's barely seventeen."
His words came out quicker, harsher and far more relentless.
Messy.
"Is that what mothers do?"
He scoffed.
She gripped her cigarette.
"Don't…
Give me that shit!"
"Never ever — try to use that mother card on me."
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
His heart raced.
His body tensed.
He moved forward.
His voice came out messier, then last time.
"You don't get to. I don't care if everyone in this village loves you, I couldn't even give a shit if Athena herself was in love with you.
The words came out harsh.
She fumbled back.
"Kairo, that's not — you don't understand — there were people chasing us, chasing me, I didn't mean to they were chasing your fath—"
Her words were interrupted.
"Didn't mean to what?"
His voice cracked.
"Didn't mean to leave? To pretend nothing ever happened — to show up only when it was safe?"
His nails began to dig into his skin as he gripped his fist hard.
THUMP.
THUMP.
THUMP.
Crackle.
"It wasn't…
It wasn't safe back then — you were too young, you wouldn't understand!"
The words crawled outside her mouth begging to be heard.
His chest began to hurt.
"You left dad…
You left me, and now you're trying to justify your actions?
His neck tensed as his eyes burned hotter than any cigarette .
"You… don't know what it's like — to walk through that village . To see the way they stare at me, the way they talk to me, the way they act towards me."
He wiped his eyes, yet no tears fell.
"You don't know what it's like to be me."
Silence engulfed the sky.
"You left because… it wasn't safe?"
He spoke exhaustedly.
She gripped her fingers tight.
"There were people after your father…
It wasn't safe…
I had things I needed to d—"
The words came out in a blur from her mouth.
"Thing's?
That's a new one, I hadn't heard that one before."
He stared at the floor.
She took a deep breath.
She felt her throat tighten.
"You wouldn't understand."
She whispered.
A half assed laugh came out from the man.
"You're right…
I don't."
He took a deep breath.
THUMP.
"You're so busy…
Making up lies, trying to make yourself feel better, trying to make yourself look better — you can't even apologise, not to me, you never have."
The words came out harsher.
Water began to flow inside his eyes.
"You're.."
The worst type of trash.
The words never came out — even now, even after everything.
He never could.
"A terrible mother."
He spoke softly, no anger inside his soul.
Crackle.
"I'm tired."
No energy inside his voice.
The words vibrated in her ear drums.
Smoke spiralled into the sky.
They never left her almost as if they were now a part of her very DNA.
She froze. A cigarette slipped through her fingers — falling slowly and quiet. It hit the ground without making a sound. The world became muffled and cold. She trembled — staring as she watched the young boy she had left six years ago had become an entirely different man. Her feet became part of the ground — she stayed trying to process everything that occurred.
The canvas never forgets what it draws.