"Mom!" Seth's voice is hard, like he can't believe his mom just hit me. He stands and yanks the knife from his mom's fisted hand. "What is wrong with you?"
"I wasn't done," she grumbles, standing up and making her way to the kitchen counter where she throws back another gulp of her precious liquid before tucking the bottle in the crook of her arm. Sitting back down, she resumes her cookie-decorating, using her fingers to paint on color now that her knife is gone.
"I was going to make more," I explain to her, glancing quickly at Seth. He's abandoned his decorating and now sits, eyes carefully watching every movement his mother makes.
"Shut up." The snarl of pure disgust sounds demonic coming from the small woman's thin lips. She doesn't look at me, but the hatred tied around her words is undeniable. "You wanna take my boy from me?" she sneers, abruptly standing and leaning across the table toward me. "Fine." Her eyes dance over my face, daring. "But give me back my knife."
Her tone is ice, eyes wild and unfocused as she examines me, looking for a reaction. I probably should be a little scared. I'm not sure if that was a threat, but I can't help but believe it was. And yet, I can't keep myself from smacking a hand over my mouth to hide my smile. Something about her anger mixed with her fragility is making this too much for me. She just told me to watch my back, and I'm laughing.
"That's enough." Seth stands, rounding the table and curling his fingers around her upper arm. "You're done here."
"Touch me, boy, and I will kill her."
Had I questioned her earlier threat before, I certainly don't now. Her eyes are fire, searing me to my seat. There are promises of death hidden behind her blue eyes—eyes far too similar to my own than I'd like to admit.
Seth disregards her words, reaching to haul her from her seat, but he's not prepared for her wiry fingers as they lash across his face. He jolts backward, stunned, which gives her the opportunity to lunge from her chair. Cookies topple to the floor and pans clatter after them as she slams into the edge of the table, hands sliding across the surface as she stumbles, trying to catch herself. A bowl of icing falls to the floor, shattering just as her foot descends onto the shards. She's unfazed and doesn't even wince as glass presses into her feet as she continues to round the table, coming toward me.
I've already scooted as far back as possible, my chair pressed up against the wall behind me as she draws nearer. My arms are up, humor gone, as I ready to fight her when suddenly she's yanked backward. Limbs are flailing, a screech of desperation breaking through her dry lips as I watch in stunned silence. Everything happened so fast. From her lunging for me to Seth flinging her over his shoulder and hauling her away must have been mere seconds, but it felt like my life was dangling in front of me for ages.
I don't move for several seconds, my mind swirling as I stare at the place Seth's mom was ripped from. There are streaks of red icing across the table where her fingers clung as Seth dragged her away, and crumbs litter the entire crime scene. There are even a few, very real, droplets of blood that lead a trail out of the kitchen. For a moment, I wonder how wounded she is. How deep did the glass go? The vengeful side of me hopes she's bleeding out, writhing in complete misery.
Blinking away my evil thoughts, I let reality settle around me. There's a stillness in this home that wasn't present before. Even with the jolly tune of 'It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas' dancing around the room, there's a ghostly chill in this place. I realize as I glance around that I'm an imposter here. I don't belong in Seth's past.
Slowly, I stand, finding the garbage can and pulling it toward the table. As I sweep crumbs into it, my mind goes quiet. I got a glimpse of Seth's childhood tonight and I'm suddenly awake. As I try to clean, I also try to block out the truth. I've just bent down to start picking up shards of glass when the reality of all of what happened hits me.