2182 days before the Light
"I'm so proud of you," my mother beamed, looking around the house. It was the summer after I finally graduated college, and instead of immediately getting married or trying my luck in the city like all my buddies were doing, I bought myself an old house in a small port town.
"Thanks," I said, even though it wasn't much to be proud of. I guess she figured I was such a bum, it was a miracle I even got a place.
It wasn't even that great of a house, truthfully. Sure, it had a decent amount of rooms, with two stories, but the entire second story was just an attic. I, of course, hadn't gone up there yet, because I was dreading having to clean it up.
To tell the truth, it freaked me out a little, too.
The bottom, of course, was where the actual living area was. A living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, a kitchen, everything. Even a garage.
The only thing that worried my mother was that it was the only house without stilts. All the other houses were built with stilts-a remarkable feat-due to a massive flood that had a decade before. Apparently, my house survived, and very well, considering.
"Do you need any help?" my mother asked, still in the habit of handholding me. I shook my head, and she smiled.
"You've grown up."
I smiled back, weakly. Tears pricked her eyes. She dabbed at them with her sleeve.
"Your father will be over tomorrow with the rest of your things," she told me.
"I can just drive over for them," I replied.
"No, you need to get settled," she insisted.
"I am settled."
She shook her head. "Be sure to call me."
"I will."
"Every night."
I smirked. "And here I thought I was an adult."
"You're still my son."
I kissed her on the cheek. "Don't worry. Go home."
"I will," she mimicked me, holding out her hand. I took it and started leading her to the car. My mother was very ladylike.
"You better call us, now," she repeated.
I rolled my eyes, grinning and opening the car door. "I know."
"I'll call the police if you don't."
"Mother..."
"I love you," she said, dabbing away more tears. She stepped into the car and looked up at me expectantly.
"I love you too," I said, leaning down and kissing her cheek.
I went back inside my new house as she drove away, exhausted. I fell back onto the couch and turned on the television I had so meticulously installed. One of those ghost-hunting documentaries was on. I watched it for a moment, eyelids drooping.
"How disgusting," I heard a girl say. It wasn't on the TV.
I closed my eyes and drifted off, barely aware of the voice, or the glowing blue light on the other edge of the couch.