11

She looked at the boy as he sat at the table, drawing her a picture. She hadn’t seen it yet, but she knew it would be a house, with a sun above it and three people waving happily at the side. Always that damn house , she thought as she looked away at the fridge, covered with what seemed like one and the same picture. Mother I made you something. Her gaze flung up, honey don’t startle mommy like that! I’m sorry mother, but I’ve drawn you a picture…Look! She looked down, forcing herself to smile. Why honey, that must be the prettiest… her voice fell silent, she looked down again. As usual it were the same house, the same sun and the same waving family. However, hidden away in the corner, there were the traces of what seemed to have been another person. A female, with long brown hair and a smile that was too big for her face. Normally she would have been happy with any change in her son, but there was something not right with this carefully drawn, and that hastily erased figure. She knew her son was not much of an artist, but he had a certain way of drawing things. And whilst the other figures all looked rather childish and dull, this woman was much more realistic and beyond that of what a child his age should be able to draw. She looked at it again, the arms, the face, the body, they were all in the right perception. That smile was the only thing that stood out, crudely drawn and much too big, mockingly placed in the centre of the face. And while she looked up at her son to compliment him once again, she felt the shivers run down her spine…