Sincerely Yours

“I could feel it in my heart Mom,” I said.

I sat in the couch with my knees pressed firmly against my chest while my mother sat across from me, her long leg overlapping the other with hands folded neatly in her lap. She was in the middle of cooking dinner, but I pulled her aside for my normal venting. That's how it all started anyways. She'd ask how me how I was doing and I'd almost never reply with "I'm fine."

“What do you feel, Raina?” my mother's voice was soft. Her light brown eyes scanned every region of my face, searching for an answer before I even had the chance to give her one.

“That Alyssa’s been swallowed by a pack of wolves.”

I could hear my mom laughing before I had a moment to explain myself.

She thinks I’m the funniest person alive.

“Mom, please listen to me. I know it may seem like I’m joking, but I’m not. I truly believe something horrible happened to Alyssa. She hasn't responded to my mail for three months now. Three months! I've seen a lot of horror movies in the past few years and whenever someone hasn't called or showed up, it usually means they’re D-E-A-D. DEAD!”

My mom waved her hands, completely disregarding everything I had to say. I couldn't blame her. I've been coming up with all sorts of horrible conclusions as to why Alyssa hasn't responded to my long-winded mails. Last week, I was convinced someone kidnapped her, sliced her body in two, and left her in some hole to rot. And just two days ago, I told my mother that someone stabbed her when she wasn't looking and buried her lifeless body underneath a bridge somewhere.

“Honey, she’s probably busy. Plus, you never know. The mail delivery system here in India is honestly not that great, especially since we’re about thirty minutes from the nearest city. Why don’t you call her? I’ll pay for the calling card. I know you were set on communicating through mail, but if you truly believe her life is in danger, just give her a call," said my mother. Then she sighed and got up from the chair. She adjusted her colorful sari* momentarily before directing her attention back to me.

“And even if she was dead, don’t you think her parents would have contacted us by now?”

She stared at me with orbs I knew too well because it was my own reflection. I was the spilting image of my mother. Both of us had nose rings, light brown eyes that were usually accompanied by eyeliner, and dark brown hair that cascaded down in waves to the middle of our backs. However, my mom usually had her hair plaited and I usually left my hair hanging in the breeze. I hated keeping my hair contained ever since I was a little girl; it gave me headaches. I occasionally plaited it whenever I needed to keep it out of my way, but that was it.

I knew she was waiting for my response before she can proceed to make her way back towards the kitchen, but I just stared at her. I finally responded when I realized the rice she had on the stove was going to be burnt to a crisp in about 2 minutes.

“No, because I think they’re all dead too.”

My mother, Priya, pushed back her head and let out the most unruly laugh I've ever heard come from a woman; it sounded like it belonged to a grizzly bear.

“Darling, you’re too funny. Have you ever thought about getting your own TV show? I think people will take to it. Drama and comedy all in one show, who wouldn't love it?”

I sighed and grabbed the sides of my head as my mom got up and walked towards the kitchen to check on the rice. I was driving myself crazy with my horrible imagination and my mom was having the time of her life watching me make a fool of myself.

“Darling, if you’re finish with your gruesome stories, can you come into the kitchen and help me cook? I need you to cut up the chicken and put it into this pot.”

I screwed up my face even though I knew she couldn't see.

She was always asking me to help her cook.