Looking down by the window, he is watching undead loitering around the night street. Eyeing on a particular undead.
“Stop looking!” Controlled low voice called to him and put the stick back in the newspapers.
‘Mom?’
“Didn’t I tell you to not look?” Anger is rising but after breathing in and out his mom calms down and strokes his arms. “Sweetie, It’s dangerous to look at. What did I tell you?”
“...”
“Very Good.” She nodded in a voiceless response and gave him a tight hug. “Don’t worry sweetheart mom will always protect you.”
He was led out of the room. He glances one last look at the partially ripped newspaper and looks up.
‘Mom.’ He called longingly.
Her long luscious hair was gone and it was cut unevenly shorter than bobcut and her fair skin is full now of cuts, bruises and turne
