Closeted Panic

He knocked on the door, his hands trembling only slightly. He was nervous, no, anxious, no, absolutely positively petrified. Yes, Icarus was petrified of a woman no more than five foot four.

"Icarus." Came the groan of the dastardly woman. He gulped, sweating positively in his boots. Oh, how he wished he hadn't started a fight with Lew Kingston! With a heavy heart, Icarus opened the creaky door.

The room was odorless and dimly lit. The only source of light was the fireplace, crackling and hissing. There were books upon books stacked upon each other like a palace, surrounding the entire room. Near a particularly large stack of such books laid a desk with floral decorations on it. Behind it, a red chair turned backwards. There was a red, oval carpet placed in front of the fire. On that carpet, laid the family dog, Francis. Francis, a husky, seemed content with the warmth of the flames and the creaking of the floor. Icarus winced as he trended upon the glossy wooden floors; too loud. Unfortunately, he had stepped on one of the specifically loud, creaky ones. With that sound resounding the room, Francis barked and a woman showed herself from behind the desk.

"Icarus." She said smoothly. He gritted his teeth.

"Mother." He replied back, more venom in his bite.

"Would you care to explain what happen this particular evening." She hummed, examining a flower while doing so. Icarus hated when she did that, his mother was so... so... UGH.

"I fought a boy. That is all." He said curtly. Icarus's hands found themselves knowing together on his chest. His mother wasn't so pleased as she stopped tending to her flora and looked at the boy.

"May you watch that tongue of yours, boy." She said calmly, but the harden words were all too apparent. Icarus inwardly gulped and hoped that he wouldn't die today.

"As you wish, Mother." He carefully replied. This didn't seem to mollify her rage however, as she seemed distraught by his actions. Icarus prepared himself for the worst.

"Sometimes," She sighed. "I don't know what to do to him." It didn't seem that she was talking to him directly, rather, it seemed she was talking about him. However, there was no one to hear other than him, so who could she possibly be talking to?

"... Mother?" He whispered slightly. She didn't look his way as she swirled into her chair. Each time the turn faced him, Icarus noted she sunk deeper into the plush chair.

"Sometimes, I don't even know what I'm doing was right!" She shrieked. "What am I supposed to do?! What should I do?! Come on! You were always the one with the answers!" Then it hit him. His mother was talking to the departed.

"Mother, I don't think—" He was interrupted.

"Gods! Why did you have to leave?!" She continued onto her dreary monologue. "Why couldn't they take me instead? Heavens knows he likes you more than I, Endymion!" She mourned and Icarus felt a certain piece of shard lodged into his stomach.

"Mother? Oh, Mother. Please care to listen." He said with a louder voice. This time his words caught his mother's attention.

"Yes?" She asked teary eyed. "What is it?"

"I will apologize for my actions, Mother. It was my fault entirely." He confessed, shoving down the objections down his throat. If she would stop by a lie, then lie he will.

"Oh." She seemed pleased. The tears from a minute ago lost in space. "I'm glad to hear that." She took a deep sigh. "If you were being bullied and I knew nothing, why, I couldn't live with myself!" She continued.

"Yes, I know." He whispered carefully. "I will apologize to Lew Kingston tomorrow. You have no worries about it."

"Good." She said gleefully. "Good."

Icarus sighed and excused himself from the room. After a certain 'click' was heard, he rushed to the bathroom. When he arrived, he nearly ripped open the mirror door. Inside, various medications for his mother resided in. He picked three from an orange one and put them in water. When they evaporated entirely, he sighed in relief. Icarus then made the particularly long pilgrimage back to the room.

Another normal day in this normal home.