Chapter 2

“Huh?”

She sounded surprised.

“Your mom just called me. She said you'd gone away for a residential training course and wouldn't have time to hang out, so I'm not coming today.”

My heart plummeted.

Only then did I realize my situation was even worse than I'd thought.

Who was that woman?

What did she want?

Without saying anything else to my cousin, I hung up and started planning my escape for that night.

Toward evening, someone knocked on my bedroom door.

I steeled myself and opened it.

“Mom” stood outside, rigidly upright as always.

Expressionless.

“Come and eat.”

“I'm not hungry... You go ahead. I don't want dinner.”

I couldn't look at her. Keeping my eyes lowered, I added, “I still have homework.”

“Eat first.”

Her voice was ice-cold.

She stood blocking the doorway, showing no sign of leaving.

I gathered my courage and looked up, intending to refuse again and make it clear I meant it.

But the moment I saw her face, the words lodged in my throat.

She stood there with the corners of her mouth turned up, as though she were smiling.

Every other muscle in her face was taut.

Exactly that kind of expression—

A smiling mouth and eyes that weren't smiling at all.

My heart pounded wildly.

I was afraid of disobeying her.

I had no idea what she might do.

In the end, all I could do was follow her obediently to the dining room.

On the table were the same four dishes.

Pork with green peppers.

Stir-fried tofu.

Pork liver.

Tomatoes with scrambled eggs.

I ate a few quick mouthfuls of rice and was about to go back to my room.

“Have a little more.”

“You mustn't let yourself go hungry.”

“Mom” put a piece of liver in my bowl.

On the surface, it was the sort of ordinary, caring remark any mother might make.

But for some reason, it sent a chill straight down my spine.

I couldn't shake the feeling that she meant something else.

After dinner, I hurried back to my room and locked the door.

I wanted to call Uncle for help.

But I searched the entire room and couldn't find my phone.

“Where is it?”

“I left it on the desk...”

My sense of foreboding grew stronger.

Without my phone, I'd be completely cut off from the outside world.

Normally, I almost never let it leave my side.

The only time I'd left it in my room was when I went out for dinner just now.

But “Mom” hadn't been in my room.

I'd watched her throughout the meal. She hadn't left the table once.

Then how had my phone disappeared?

No.

I had to get out of here.

I began packing the things I needed into my backpack.

There was a pair of scissors in the drawer.

I put those in too.

At nine that evening, “Mom” returned to her room.

I heard her humming a tune I'd never heard before.

I heard the wardrobe opening.

I heard her talking.

I could make out the sound, but not the words.

It didn't sound as if she were talking to herself.

Was she on the phone?

I stared at the alarm clock beside my bed, counting the minutes.

Sometime after eleven, the room next door fell completely silent.

Maybe she was asleep.

I'd wait a little longer.

It would be safer to sneak out at two in the morning.

I kept watching the hands on the clock, willing time to pass, praying I'd manage to leave this place.

Perhaps it was because I'd hardly slept the night before and was so exhausted.

As I waited, I fell asleep.

Suddenly, I jerked awake, my eyes flying open.

Instinctively, I scanned the room.

I'd been too scared to turn the light off, so every corner was clearly visible.

My bedroom door was still shut.

Nothing was wrong.

And yet, as I slept, I'd felt with terrible certainty that a pair of eyes was watching me.

I hadn't been dreaming.

The sensation had simply struck, startling me awake.

I checked the clock.

Two thirty in the morning.

It was time.

I had to leave now.

I eased myself out of bed, put on my backpack, and crossed the freezing floor in my bare feet, one careful step at a time.

I gently opened my bedroom door and pulled it shut behind me.

Then I crept toward the front door.

The living room was pitch-black. I couldn't see a thing.

But I'd lived here for more than ten years. I knew exactly where every piece of furniture was.

The darkness couldn't stop me finding the door.

Just as I was about to cross the living room, a voice came out of the dark.

“Yiyi... where are you going?”

It was “Mom.”

My heart leaped into my throat.

Cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

I started shaking.

Slowly, I turned toward the voice.

In the darkness, I could just make out someone sitting on the sofa.

“You mustn't make Mommy worry anymore.”

The figure slowly rose.

Then she began walking toward me.

For the past two days, my nerves had been stretched to breaking point.

Now I broke.

I screamed at the dark figure, “You're not my mother! Who are you?”

She didn't answer.

She just kept coming.

3. Hide-and-Seek

With every step she took toward me, I backed closer to the door.

“...Don't... don't come any closer...”

My voice shook.

Suddenly, she stopped.

Then she gave two little chuckles.

“Heh heh...”

“Silly girl.”

“Of course I'm your mother.”

Those two chuckles made every hair on my body stand on end.

It was unmistakably the voice I'd heard for more than ten years.

Yet that laugh was utterly unfamiliar.

Shrill.

Grating.

And there was something strange about its inflection.

She turned and walked to my room.

After opening the door, she stood in the doorway.

“Good girls do as they're told.”

“Go back to bed.”

The light I'd left on spilled over her.

She was wearing a white slip dress.

Her hair was pinned up, and her face was thick with makeup.

I judged the distance between us.

She was about four meters away.

I was right beside the front door.

If I opened it and ran now, there was no way she could catch me.

The thought of finally escaping this nightmare made me a little less afraid.

Summoning all my courage, I shouted, “Drop dead, you old monster!”

The instant the words left my mouth, I spun around and tried to open the door.

It wouldn't open.

I twisted the handle again and again.

Nothing.

The fear that had just faded came rushing back.

Frantically, I turned the lock.

No.

Still nothing.

I slowly looked over my shoulder.

“Mom” was coming toward me.

Strangely, she wasn't angry about what I'd said.

She was still smiling.

Was she enjoying watching me panic?

“Help!”

“Help!”

“Fire!”

I screamed at the top of my lungs.

If I only shouted for help, the neighbors might be too frightened of getting involved to come out.

But if I shouted fire, it could spread to their apartments.

Someone would have to come and check.

Someone would call the police.

Then I'd have a chance of being rescued.

But I screamed until my voice was hoarse and still got no response.

Inside the apartment.

Outside.

Everything was terrifyingly quiet.

So quiet I could hear water dripping in the kitchen.

Impossible.

There was no way nobody could hear me.

Then why—

“Mom” was standing right in front of me.

With my back pressed to the door, I stared at her in terror.

My legs gave way, and I slid to the floor.

“Be good.”

“Go back to bed.”

Her voice was flat.

Empty of feeling.

As cold as a machine.

I staggered to my feet, stumbled back to my bedroom, and locked the door.

Then I collapsed onto the bed.

Everything from the past two days came back to me.

Helplessness.

Hurt.

Fear.

Confusion.

All of it surged up at once.

...

“Mom...”

“Where are you?”

“I'm so scared...”

I whispered into the empty room.

Then I started to cry.