I sat across Paul at the dinner table that night. We didn’t talk a whole lot, but I learned that he was an engineer. He asked me about myself. I told him that I would be going into the fifth grade this fall.

I couldn’t sleep much that night. I woke up every so often, expecting to catch the Engineer look over me with his suspicious gaze. I just couldn’t trust him. Maybe if I was lucky, it was all a dream and he never ended up coming to our house.

The upcoming days gave me even more reason to not like the Engineer. Right off the bat, I noticed something about him; he liked to drink. A lot. And whenever he drank, he became a fool. He always began to argue with my mother for whatever reason. Still, my mother couldn’t seem to let him go. She was too caught up in his chocolate brown eyes and whiskey slurs to see what I saw.

It twisted my heart to see her like this, but then I figured that it would only be a matter of time until the Engineer left us and things would go back to the way they were before.

The weeks that passed continues to prove me wrong. I had the feeling that the Engineer was here to stay for good. My mother seemed to love him, it was a strange kind of love—not like the love you see in Disney cartoons. No, this was a peculiar kind of love where she would put him at the forefront of everything she did. Ever so that I began to feel like she cared for him more than she cared for me.

The Engineer completely changed out small basement into a workplace of his own; decorated with gadgets and tools of all sorts. One day I was going to ask my mother if we could go to the park. Just us two. She was busy helping the Engineer out with some kind of creation in the basement. I’ll never forget what I saw in there.

I walked into the dim-lit basement and instantly noticed an eerie difference in the setting. I saw my mom’s silhouette from a distance and carefully walked closer to her. Something was wrong. My mom just stood still. I looked at the Engineer as he wore a cocky smile. He seemed to be getting some kind of kick out of my anxiousness.

“What did you do to my mom?” I asked him worriedly.

“I did her a favor.” Said the Engineer. He flipped on the lights and I became perplexed, horrified at the sight of my own mother.

She had red, black and blue wires that went from her heart to the back of her scalp. She looked at me emotionless.

“Mom? Mom! Are you okay?” I asked hopelessly wrapping my small arms around her waist.

“I feel…. Tired.” My mother said in a monotonous tone.

“Mom, we have to get you help.” I said just as a tear rolled down my face.

She lowered her head and looked at me I looked at her face. Her eyes were empty and lifeless. My throat sank into my stomach. The Engineer just cackled.

“How… How can you be so cruel?” I asked the Engineer as I held my mom’s ice-cold hand.

“I see no problem here.” He said with a grin slapped across his face.

My mother was never the same after that. We rarely even spoke much anymore, and when we did, it was always about the Engineer and making sure everything was in its place to keep him happy.

I hated the Engineer even more than ever. He ruined my mother. She too started to drink with him and whenever he hit her, she never attempted to do anything about it to defend herself. And I felt hopeless, like there was something I should’ve been doing to protect her from him. But despite all my hopes, I made the assumption that nothing would ever be the same after that. And I was right.

One night I ran into my room and fumingly sank my head into my pillow, screaming and weeping at the same time. I wanted my mother back! But most of all, I wanted the Engineer out of our house. Mother certainly wasn’t going to do anything about it.

That night, I couldn’t control my rage. I snuck into the kitchen, tip-toeing, hoping that the Engineer wouldn’t happen to hear me sneaking around (he’d probably think that I as searching around for food again, but I got used to the tiny portions of meals I ate). I was paranoid, looking left and right to make sure I was okay. I opened the fridge, took out every last can of beer that there was and smiled as I poured each and every last drop down the sink. I had to hurt him the same way he hurt me—by taking away everything I ever loved.

The next day did not go well. I guess I should have put more thought into my actions on the previous night. My ears stung with sharp pain as the engineer yelled at my mother, screaming at her with every last inch of air in his body. His horrific, angry words shook the entire house.

“You think this is funny!? Do you?” I heard the Engineer say as I stood unseen by the wall.

“I didn’t do anything, Paul! I swear!” Mother squealed as he grabbed her by her brown strands of hair.

“I’ll show you something funny.” He said, tugging my mother’s hair, yanking her into the basement.

No! I ran into the basement and pounded on the door, but it was no use. He was locked in there with her and it was all my fault.

I stayed in my room that whole night and heard nothing from my mother or the Engineer I got through the night with little sleep and woke up, feeling something cold and sharp inside my bed.

I opened my eyes and gasped when I saw the Engineer from the corner of my eye I wanted to scream, but I was stiff. I couldn’t move a single muscle; he was doing work on me, like he had done to my mother. He took his time. It felt like ages until the Engineer finally left my room. I was shaken, trembling of anxiety. It took a lot of will power for me to do something as simple as get out of bed. I couldn’t even process a single thought properly.

I got out of my bed and felt an itchy sensation on my back. I reach my right hand to the back of my neck and feel wires coming out of my flesh. I bring my right hand back in front of me, and gasp at the excessive amount of blood on my finger tips.

I’m left breathless and look at the splotches of blood all over my bed sheets.

And just like that, all of my emotions come clashing together. My head collects heat and I don’t know what to do or who to call. I feel filthy.

Minutes later, I manage to scurry out of my room when I hear the rambling of the steel pans and pots in the kitchen. I slowly creep up, I suspect its my mother but I can’t be too sure about anything anymore, until I see my mother looking through the fridge.

“…Mom?”

She cocks her head at me and I almost fall backwards when I saw her jaw. The Engineer replaced her human jaw with a metal, robotic one. Wires took over the area where her cheeks should have been. Her eyes, however, were still those of human ones, only she looked worn out.

I collect every ounce of courage within me. This… This machine is not my mother anymore. I can’t refer to her as mom. I take her by the hand and lead her out of the kitchen. I decide to make breakfast.

I decided to cook omelets. I wasn’t too sure how to cook them, but I’ve seen my mother cook them countless times.

The eggs burn on the simmering pan and I look though the cupboards for some kind of seasoning. I come across a peculiar looking seasoning with a skull and bones label slapped on the front. It was the kind that mother used to make the rats go away. I pull it out and stare at the label.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”

I jump at the Engineer’s monstrous voice as he caught me with the poison in hand.

He stomped towards me, yanked me back my by hair, and then grabbed me by the neck. I pleaded for him to let go, but couldn’t get anything across him. He threw me against the wall with every force of hatred he had. I whammed my head against the wall and fell down to my side, trying to catch some breath.

His face turned cherry-red. He breathed heavily and then looked at me. He shoots a threatening stare at me. He didn’t have to say a word; I was already as horrified as I could be.

Breakfast was oddly quiet. I fight the urge to yell at my mother and the Engineer, to apologize for her having to take the blame for my faults. But there wasn’t a point to it anymore, I guess. My mother wasn’t human anymore. The Engineer eyed me like a vulture waiting to catch its prey.

“Pass me a beer, Noah.” He said.

I get up and get a can of beer from the fridge. I look at it and then at him.

It was his fault, everything was. He destroyed my mother, and now I was paying the price. I don’t know what I did to deserve such torment.

I snap open the can of beer and chug it down my throat. It feels rough on my throat—I can’t imagine why anyone would want to drink it. The Engineer glares at me with furious eyes. He snaps up from his seat and flips the table over, then proceeds to curse and scream at me. He assures me that this time, I will die. I drop the beer and run away, but my foot slips on the kitchen floor. He continues to yell at me. I’m going to die, I’m going to die. He grabs me by the feet, squeezing them in his tight grip. I kick at him and finally manage to hit his face. Now I know I’m dead. I collect myself and race to the nearest sanctuary—the laundry room. It’s tiny, but it’s the nearest room that has a lock. I run in there, with adrenaline guiding my feet and lock the door behind me. I crouch as far back of the door as I can.

The Engineer pounds at the door. I’m positive that he’s going to break it. I’m shaking and out of breath, hoping that this would all end. I look around for a window to escape out of, but I have no luck.

Then, it’s quiet. I stay in the laundry room. There is no way that I would allow myself to become a victim of silence. I know I have to come out of here eventually, but it’s just too difficult to even think about. Who knows what the Engineer would do to me. I began to think about my mother, and wish that I could just be in her arms again, or by her side like I used to be when she used to sing me to sleep every night. Back when her voice was as sweet as lemon drops, and not as empty as the Engineer’s heart.

I hear something splash out in the hallway. Moments later, I hear a ruffling and see a cloud of smoke trail its way into the laundry room beneath the door.

“I told you you’re gonna die, kid!” I hear the Engineer’s voice say. I whimper. This can’t be happening. How could this happen to me, when just weeks ago, life was perfect? I realize that there isn’t a thing I can do, and just stay in the laundry room.

I can feel the heat start to work its way into the laundry room. Sweat runs down my temples, though my tears have dried. I start to hear the roof cave in. It’s going to collapse any minute. I collect myself and hold my breath. I unlock the door, but burn my fingers doing so.

I step into the hallway and don’t know which direction is which. The grayness of the smoke invaded all directions of the house. It’s difficult to keep my eyes open, so I try to fight the smoke. Little by little, I can feel myself starting to become one with the smoke. I hear the roar of the flames and hope that I am not engulfed by it. I turn to my left and walk to the living room, trying to stay as far away from the fire as possible. The smoke floods my lungs and I begin to cough. At this rate, the house will burn on top of me, but I can’t let the Engineer win. I start to feel faint and light headed—almost to the point of fainting. Then I realize just how thirsty I am. Water, I need water.

I hear a pounding at the front door.

“HELP!” I yell out as loud as I can.

The pounding strengthens and in moments the door crashes down. I can’t tell who is at the door, but I know for certain that it is not the Engineer or my mother.

I collapse to my knees. The figure runs to me.

“Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine, kid.” I can tell by his voice that it is a man; a firefighter.

He picks me up over his shoulder. I jolt up and down as he runs out of the fire-pit and into the moonlit front yard.

“It’s going to be okay, listen to me. It’s going to be okay. You’re a survivor.”

Eight years later, here I am looking back at those dreadful days. I try not to think about them, but it’s become a portrait that I can’t get out of my head. To this day, I still don’t know where the Engineer and my mother reside. I haven’t seen or heard of either of them since that night. And frankly, I don’t know if they’re even alive anymore. Normally, I try not to let myself be defined by events past, but I know I have changed (I still don’t know if I changed for the worse or for the better of things). They say everything happens for a reason, that eventually, everything will fall into place. Excuse me, but that is all a pile of bullshit. Tell me why this had to happen, and I’ll reward you with all the money in the world. I still bear physical and emotional scars from that night, and I know that the road to recovery is long. At the moment, I just want to forget about all of that, enjoy life, and carry on. I know someday I will meet my mother will be waiting for me at the gates, my real mother. And I know that in that moment, I will be hers and she will be mine again.