TELL ME WHAT YOU SEE

"Don't wait up for me, James. I am working the night shift." Martha looked at her son. The room showed that it has only been both of them, with a little seater by the corner and a tattered bed on the floor. Martha adjusted her spectacles. 

James hurried to the table to have his breakfast before going to school. They had just moved again, and this was going to be the seventh time they were moving this year. 

James was getting tired of it, but each time he asked his mother about it, she would always give him an excuse. He got tired and finally stopped asking. 

James had little or no friends at all. No one misses him, and he doesn't miss anyone. Thus, he was never attached to anything or anyone. He looked up from his food and looked at Martha. "I hope we won't have to move this time again." James said it with his mouth full. 

"I hope so too, son." Martha drank her cup of coffee and kissed him on the head. She rushed out of the house, leaving seventeen-year-old James all by himself. 

James got up, carrying his plates into the kitchen. He wore his uniform and headed towards school. He was a new face, and that meant he had to make a few friends all over again, but he was tired of making new friends. He didn't know when they would have to move again, so he would rather not make any acquittals. 

James got to the front of the school gate and sighed. He strapped his bagpack to his back and tied his shoelaces again. 

He immediately settled in and was shown into his class. "This is James Carter; he will be joining us for this session. Please be nice to him." The teacher said it with a smile while standing in front of the class. "Would you like to say a few words? Maybe introduce yourself." 

"My name is James," he said, looking at their gazes. From what he had learned from his experience, James knew he didn't have to stand out. He just needs to blend in like any other student in class. He looked around to find a seat for himself and saw that many of the students didn't want him as a friend. James decided to go to the back of the line to have a seat. 

The day went by fast, and he was soon on his way back home. Entering the little home, he saw his mother's soectacles on the table. She never takes it off. James was so baffled that he wondered what was so special about it. " Mum,mother." He called out gently, trying to know if she was in the house. He couldn't hear her voice. Jame checked the room and couldn't see her. She was neither in the room nor the toilet. "Where the hell is she?" James said, dropping his bag on the cushion. 

He was about to leave the room when he looked at the sockets again. He walked away from the door and began to walk towards the table. 

[TENSED MUSIC] 

James reached for it and was about to put it on when the door creaked open. "What are you doing, James Carter?" Martha's voice rang like a bell, making James a little shocked. "Don't do that, mother." You scared the hell out of me." James shouted, clenching his chest. "Where were you? I have called like three times now, and I was going to go searching for you if I didn't see you." 

Martha looked at the spectacles on the table and back at James. "Did you try that on?" She asked with a tensed voice, holding a black nylon in her hand. 

"No, I was tempted too. Why do you always have it on?" James asked, looking at his mother. "I don't think you need to know that now. I promise to tell you when the time is right." Martha replied 

" Right. You said the same thing every time I asked you a question. " James said in anger, walking out of the house. 

"I am.." Martha was about to finish her statement, but James slammed the door in her face. 

Martha sighed and went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. She knew James had all the reason to be angry at her, but she was just trying to protect him. Things weren't like this until Jason's death. He had given Martha the spectacles and asked her to protect them with her life and make sure she passed them on to James when he was eighteen years old. "He will know what to do with it," Jason said on his dying bed.

James was going to be eighteen the next year, and Martha knew she would have to tell him about it, but not until then. The door came up, and James walked in, a little sobbed. He apologised for his rude behaviour, and they ate in silence. "You do know I love you, right?" Martha looked at James. 

"I know, mother." But you need to stop treating me like a child. I am grown now." James looked at Martha.

Martha smiled around the cheek. "I know, son, but there are things you don't know. I can't tell you what it is right now, but you need to trust me. I am doing this for your sake." Martha said coolly, looking into James eyes. He was all grown, and she could see his father's look in him. "Do you know why your father died?" Martha looked at him. 

"You said he was ill; that was what you told me." James looked at Martha, paying attention to every detail of the words that were coming out of her mouth. 

" Yes,yes. I told you he died, but that was not the reason he died. He was killed by some very powerful people." Martha said with her eyes, showing she wasn't ready to talk about the topic. " Killed?" James clenched his fist in anger. The air was thick with tension as Martha was about to continue her words. The phone rang, easing the tension. Martha picked up the call and cut it immediately when she heard a voice. "We are going to find you," the voice said with sinister laughter. 

Martha immediately stood up and went into the roost, with James trailing after her. "What is it, mother?" He asked with sensitive eyes. "Pack your things; we are moving."