Chapter Text
I learned at a very young age that my mother was not exactly normal at least not compared to most moms. Broken dishes, broken pictures and broken windows should've been a dead give away but I was 7 and the only thing I was even remotely concerned about was drawing with my crayons, or water colored paints that my dad had given me on my sixth birthday after realizing the only way he would be able to communicate with me was through blank pieces of paper and the worn down blue colored crayon that I carried with me everywhere.
Being mute seemed to be the least of my parents worries though.
Anyway, I should've known something was wrong when my dad would force me to stay in my room, always saying that he'd come back to let me out later while he would shoot me a smile that never seemed to match his eyes.
"Draw me a picture Artemis." He would say.
I would sign, "What of?"
He would smile, "Anything, be as creative as you want." He urged.
Before I could inquire more something breaking in the background would pull his attention and he'd insist he'd be back before closing the door and leaving me with nothing but a blank piece of paper and myriad of ideas.
So I would draw a picture, and with every pencil stroke I would block out all the shouting that was happening somewhere downstairs.
"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" My mother would be screaming.
Followed quickly by, "Pow calm down!" Dad would be urging.
I never knew what they were arguing about, or whose fault it ever was, but after a while dad would come back into my room looking more tired than he's ever been but he would hold it together just enough to ask what I had drew.
I would show him and his brown eyes would light up like it was the best thing he's ever seen and maybe it was, I had no idea my drawing skills were exceptional for someone of my age, I just liked the colors.
"Missy, that's so beautiful." He observed. "Where'd you get the idea to draw this?" He asked.
"I saw it in the picture, mom had wore it." I wrote on a separate piece of paper, dad's sign language was not very good yet, he was still learning, yet I noticed communicating with mom was a lot easier, she seemed to know it quite well, I never questioned why.
His eyes lit up in recognition before nodding, "I gave it to your mom a long time ago, it's a blue peony." He seemed to be reminiscent for a moment before sighing and handing the picture back.
"You hang on to this, might be worth a fortune some day." He smiled.
Later that night at the dinner table I would shuffle my food around while day dreaming about what my next drawing should be. I would feel my mothers glare across the table I'd look up and she'd be watching me with a look I could never quite describe.
Was it guilt? jealousy?
I would pull out the picture I drew and show her thinking that maybe it would cheer her up, I mean she wore the flower necklace in the picture surely she would like it right?
She'd look at it and I watched as her lips wavered only to flatline. "You drew this?" She questioned, her tone unreadable just like her mood.
I would nod.
"Isn't it nice Pow?" My father would ask, almost pleadingly, like he was just begging her for any type of normal response.
She would say nothing but hand the picture back.
She'd later wolf down her food, chug down her drink and excuse herself from the table mumbling something about going out to the shed to work.
Leaving me and dad at the table to eat in silence.
"She's just having a bad day." Dad would explain sipping his water.
I nodded.
My mother would have bad days a lot, so I never took anything she did to heart, it was just how she was. Some days she'd be on cloud nine, we'd go outside and play, she'd chase me around shooting paint balls at me as I duck and weaved firing right back at her.
Then sometimes you could barely get a word out of her.
But I was seven I didn't know anything was wrong, at least I didn't until one day mom was having another one of her bad days and she was screaming things that made absolutely no sense to me, until next thing I knew she grabbed the drawing of the peony I had forgotten to put in my drawing portfolio and held it up to my dads face and yelled accusingly, "YOU TOLD HER TO DRAW THIS DIDN'T YOU!? YOU JUST CAN'T LET THINGS GO!"
"She drew it on her own Pow, calm down!" He said calmly but even I could tell his patience was waning.
She scoffed and turned to me, the look she gave this time was clear as day, "Of course, you're just like him." She said almost sounding hurt.
I just stared back at her, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to ask, but I didn't have time to think not before she turned around and chucked the picture into the fire place.
I gasped, running to retrieve it but not before dad grabbed me and held me back, "Missy, I'm so sorry." He said holding onto me as I wriggled back and forth trying to retrieve it.
I heard the door slam indicating my mother had made yet another great escape as I watched the blue peony go up in flames.
-
The next day I woke up to my mother smiling claiming she had a gift for me. I looked at her skeptically before she placed a red metal box in front of me encouraging me to open it.
I did and I watched as my mother bounced up and down in anticipation waiting for my reaction.
I gave none, instead I looked at her confused.
"It's a tool kit!" She beamed. "Merry Progress Day!!" She smiled, "Now you can take a break from drawing and maybe build something!" She exclaimed. "Look it even has goggles!" She said taking the goggles out and putting them around my head.
I had never seen her look so enthusiastic in my life, it was almost like I was looking at someone completely new, So I just nodded and smiled along with her as she went on and on about all the things we could make.
I was seven when I realized my mother was not normal.
But it would take me years to find out that maybe just maybe she was the greatest impersonator.
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Hey all! So I really wanted to write a short story revolving around Ekko and Jinx's daughter and how growing up with Jinx as a mom would probably be very daunting and confusing at times, I wanted this to be like a journey through their daughter finding out, realizing, and then trying to understand and cope with Jinx who would probably deal with mental health issues throughout her life. This fic can be interpreted as being set in modern day or the arcane universe however you want to view it. Anyway let me know what you think and if I should continue or not.