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It was late, almost 12 am, and Wing couldn’t sleep. The eight year old boy had felt anxious the whole day, yet had no idea why. He didn’t tell his parents about it, as he thought it would soon go away, yet the feeling gnawed at the back of his mind as he laid in bed. It felt as if it would consume him. He had no idea why he was so worried, but maybe it would just go away eventually.
He looked over at the clock that sat on his nightstand. 11:55pm. He let out a frustrated sigh. He carefully sat up and got out of bed. If he couldn’t sleep then he might as well wander around the house for a bit. His father wouldn’t be home until later on the next morning, so Wing didn’t have to worry about being caught by him. He didn’t like when his father scolded him. He got loud and scary.
He carefully opened the door and peeked into the hallway. No sign of anyone. He stepped out of his room, being mindful of the creaky floors. He didn’t want to wake anyone. That would be rude, and he didn’t like being rude. He carefully made his way through the halls, allowing himself to get lost in thought as he wandered. What was it that kept him awake? Was something bad going to happen? Should he tell someone, or would they just think he was being too imaginative? Maybe the feeling would just go away and he’d look back at this moment and laugh. It was probably just a silly feeling.
He was startled back into reality when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked behind him to see Lao, the groundskeeper. He came around every so often, and Wing never spoke to him, usually out of fear. He had to be at least twenty years older than Wing's parents, at least that was what Wing assumed since the man’s short, black hair was graying at the sides. He was tall and very intimidating. Yet what scared Wing the most was the long, jagged scar that ran down over his right eye, blinding it. He didn’t want to know what caused it.
Lao stared down at the young boy, his good eye seeming to pierce into Wing’s soul, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” he asked, his voice soft yet there was a hint of harshness that struck fear into Wing. If he had known Lao was there we would’ve just stayed in his room.
“I- I uh- I couldn’t sleep.” he mumbled, his voice quiet.
Lao took his hand off Wing’s shoulder, “And why’s that?”
“I dunno. I just can’t.” He backed up a bit.
The man’s expression softened slightly, relieving a bit of Wing’s fear. "Is there something on your mind?"
"No, sir. I'm just not tired." Wing responded. Now that they actually spoke, Wing noticed that Lao didn't act as scary as he looked. Yes, he did seem a bit stern, but he had any intention of causing harm, Wing assumed he would've done so already. Though, he still didn't trust the man with the truth.
"Very well. Though it would be wise to go back to your room and try to sleep. You wouldn't want too many sleepless nights." He instructed, and stepped out of the way to allow Wing to walk past and back to his room. Wing decided it would be best to obey and started heading to his room.
As he reached his door and began to push it open, he heard the creak of his parents door opening, and looked over to see his mother standing there, looking at him with a concerned look on her face.
"Mama!" He said, surprised to see she was awake, "Did I wake you? I'm so sorry if I did."
She gave him a warm smile, "No no, it's alright sweetie. I was already awake. I heard you and Lao talking out there. Is everything okay? Why are you up?"
"I couldn't sleep and decided to wander. I had no idea he was here though." Wing responded as he walked over to his mother, "He's actually not as scary as I thought."
"He's a nice man. You should talk to him more when he comes by." She said with a slight chuckle as she picked him up. "It's too late right now. You should lay down."
He giggled, "I'm starting to get too big to carry!"
"You're still pretty small." She grinned.
"I'm not that small!" he protested.
His mother sat down on the bed, carefully setting the squirming little boy down next to her.
“Is there a reason you couldn’t sleep?” She asked, her voice soft and gentle.
He looked at her for a few moments before resting his head against her shoulder, “I’ve been feeling really worried.” he mumbled.
He felt her pull him into a hug, soon brushing her fingers through his shoulder length hair. “Why’s that?” she sounded concerned.
“I dunno. I just started feeling scared.” he responded. “I didn’t want to tell anyone because it felt silly.”
The hug tightened slightly. He felt safe and calm in her arms. It felt as if the embrace could melt away all of his worries.
“I don’t think it’s silly.” She soon said, “Sometimes we just feel anxious, but I assure you everything is okay, alright?”
He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable. She was right. As long as he was home, he would be safe. His parents wouldn’t let anything hurt him.
He started to feel more sleepy. Nothing to worry about. He could sleep now. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. He was safe.
He heard his mother chuckle, “Tired?”
“Mmm-mhm.” he nodded, and closed his eyes. He could feel her run her fingers gently through his hair as he fell asleep in her arms.
No need to worry. He would be safe. His mother was there.
He would be safe.
But would she be safe? He didn’t consider that.
He was startled awake by a loud bang from somewhere else in the house, followed by the sounds of crashing. He sat up in a panic, looking around for his mother, only to realize she wasn’t there.
“Mama?” he called out. No response. He carefully climbed out of bed and crept to the door. He cracked it open slightly and peeked into the hallway, but saw no one.
He slowly stepped into the hall, being careful about the creaky floors, and made his way towards where he heard the noises. He hoped it was just nothing. Maybe something just fell?
He rounded the corner to the living room, and his heart stopped. It was a horrible sight. Shattered glass was scattered across the floor and furniture was broken, as if there had been a struggle. But he didn't pay attention to any of that. He stared at the body slumped against the wall, a gunshot wound in her chest and blood splattered on the floor and wall around her.
He let out a loud cry as he ran over to her, ignoring the pain that shot through him as broken glass sliced his feet. He soon stumbled and fell down next to her, glass slicing his arms, legs, and his back. He carefully sat up despite the pain, and grabbed his mother's arm.
"Mama?! MAMA!" He screamed as he shook her, "MAMA WAKE UP!"
Nothing. Why wouldn't she wake up?! They were supposed to be safe! That's what she told him.
He let out a loud sob as he buried his face in her shoulder, "Wake up… Please…." He begged, yet she did nothing.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They should've been safe and happy. He should've woken up to her still holding him in a gentle embrace.
Not to this.
He should've been curled up next to her as she read him his favorite book, or as she just held him and hummed.
But there he was, a cut up mess as she laid there dead.
He should've told his parents about the anxious feeling. Maybe he could've stopped this? He would've been able to see her warm, gentle smile once again if he hadn't stayed quiet. He could've saved her.
"I'm sorry Mama…" he sniffled, "I'm sorry…"
He had no idea how long he had laid there. Time felt like a blur. One minute he was still crying into her shoulder, and then the next he was being carried away. He couldn't tell who had picked him up. His mind was too jumbled from the pain and shock.
His small body ached from the cuts. He let out a small groan. Whoever carried him didn't seem to hear or care. They eventually set him down somewhere. He knew he had been taken outside, as he could feel the grass poking him, making him wince in pain as blades touched the cuts. He shifted slightly, letting out a yelp when pain jolted through him.
"Stay still." The person said, and Wing recognized the voice as Lao. "Your father is getting help right now. For now, try not to move too much."
His father was home? He never heard the door open.
"Lao? Why…. Why is she-" he started, but was cut off when Lao gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry about that right now."
How could he not worry? He had just woken up to find his mother dead! And he's being told not to worry about it?! He didn't say anything, though.
"Did Papa tell you to move me?" Wing asked, deciding to change the subject.
"He did. He didn't want you laying in the glass." Lao responded calmly. "And he wanted you away from the house, just to be safe."
That made sense. He was already cut up enough. No need to get injured any further. He didn't understand why he had to be taken away, though.
He felt tired, most likely due to the little bit of sleep he had gotten.
"I'm tired."
Lao stayed silent for a few moments, before finally speaking, "I know you didn't get a lot of sleep, but just try to stay awake, okay?" Wing could hear the hint of concern in his tone, "Help should be arriving soon."
Wing opened his mouth to argue, but decided against it. It was best to listen to directions, especially in a moment like this. He looked up at the sky. The sun had started to rise, and he could see a few stars still peeking out from behind the clouds. How long had it been since he found her?
"Lao?" He spoke, not looking away from the sky, "Will everything get better?"
Lao hesitated, "I don't know." He sighed. Wing could hear the doubt in his voice, "we'll just have to see what happens."
He remembered something he had been told a few weeks before, a promise he didn't understand but one he agreed to keep. Maybe it had to do with this?
Maybe she knew this would happen?
In the distance, he could hear the wail of sirens approaching. Would they be there for his mother too? Or just him?
He heard footsteps approach, and looked over to see his father walking over to them, his expression unreadable. He knelt down next to Wing.
"Did you see anything?" He asked, his voice shaky.
"No. I didn't." Wing responded. He wasn't sure if it was completely true, but he didn't want to think back to that moment. "I heard noises. That's all."
"What noises?" Why did his father want to know?
"I don't remember." He lied. He wanted to forget. He wanted to forget everything.
"Mao," Lao said, "let him be for now. He's hurt and shaken. He probably can't think straight."
His father hesitated, then sighed, "Alright. Help will be here soon, kid. Just hang in there."
Wing was tired.
"Can I sleep now?" He mumbled. "I didn't get a lot of sleep."
His father looked scared. Why did he look scared? He sighed, "Alright. You need it. Just rest, okay?"
Wing closed his eyes. As sleep consumed him, he could hear more people approaching, as well as some shouting. He didn't care about it, though. He just wanted to rest.
Maybe when he woke up it would just be some sort of sick dream?