he’d grown comfortable in fairvale, had forgotten that not every stranger would be kind, and the woman’s obvious suspicion and hostility catches him off-guard.
unbidden, a memory of his mother comes to mind. she’d locked him in the tiny bedroom they shared, punishment for getting home fifteen minutes later than usual because he’d stopped by the convenience store with a classmate to buy a popsicle. “mama’s just worried about you,” she had sobbed from outside the room, as if she was the victim in this situation and not him. “there are many bad people in the world. mama just wants to protect you. this is for your own good.”
what does it say about him, he wonders, the fact that he misses a mother like that. but he does, and he wishes she was here now, standing between him and this strange woman, a barrier between him and the rest of the world. he tries to put some distance between them, taking small steps backwards until he feels his back collide with the cool surface of the mirror. “i was just dancing,” he tries to explain.
there are tears prickling in his eyes, but he bites down on his lip, forcing himself to hold them back. he can’t cry. his mother doesn’t like it when he cries. if he cries then she will hit him. “i was just dancing,” he repeats, chest heaving with the force of holding back his tears, and his breathing growing erratic. “i didn’t do anything wrong,” he bites out, forcing himself to lift his head up to look at the woman in the eye, but his little act of defiance is short-lived, and he quickly squeezes his eyes shut.
talking back is bad. bad children get hit. this is for his own good.
The crease between Harper's eyebrows became deeper as her companion struggled to put some distance between them. A part of her brain, the part that was constantly on alert, told her to expect a bad outcome in this scenario, and it took a lot of schooling to return her expression into something blasé. Staying in that community wasn't a priority in her life, but it was a necessity at that moment, and creating any animosity wasn't going to work in her favor.
"Careful," she warned. "If you manage to retreat any farther, you'll go into the wall," she spoke with the sigh of a tired person. "Besides, I'm not the monster you should fear," Harper drew her shoulders up and down nonchalantly, but she would not bother making amends for her statement. She knew the things she had done to survive, and the woman would not go as far as to deny she was, at least, some sort of monster for them. Harper didn't have any regrets. In a world where it was to kill or be killed, she would prefer to be on the living side of things. And what was it that people often said? Better the devil you know.
She kept an eye on her companion, noticing the quivering lips and the water pooling in his eyes. Damn it. She could never deal with crying people, she wasn't good with those displays of emotion even before the world became an inhospitable place. "Oh--kay," Harper drew her arms up in surrender, feeling the situation was only going to get more awkward from that point onward. "If that floats your boat," she shrugged once more, taking a few cautionary steps back herself. In the back of her head, there was a voice telling her not to engage. Asking questions would lead to unnecessary answers, and lessons Harper was desperate to impart. This was wired into who she was. She had to take care of her sisters. She had to prepare them for the world. "Just... Keep the music down," or not don't use music at all. "It will keep people like me away," she believed this comment would be enough to appease the tearful boy. Harper hoped it would be enough.
