Sable's Experiences

[Toaster]

July 4, 827 A.S.

Olivia stood in the empty hallway, right hand raised as to knock on the apartment door. The other clutched a bottle of wine. The old ceiling lights flickered and somewhere down the corridor there was the scurrying of rodent feet. The place smelled of burnt-out electrical cables and musty carpets. The bottle shook slightly in her hand.

Olivia took a deep breath and knocked. From beyond the door came a shuffling of feet and the sound of clattering dishes.

"Yes, one moment please!" a voice called out from within. There was more shuffling and more clattering. The door slid open with a grating sound and a tall, fair-skinned man in his mid-fifties stood before Olivia. He smiled broadly and stepped out into the corridor, embracing her. "Olivia, you came!"

"I couldn't keep you waiting for ever, Uncle Will," Olivia replied, stepping out of the hug, a weak smile on her face. Uncle Will grasped her by the shoulders.

"Whenever it works for you." He turned around and returned into the apartment, beckoning her to follow. "Come on in! I'm just about done fixing dinner." Olivia stepped into the flat's lobby - if one could call the cramped hall a lobby. Three more doors led into three more rooms. One was open and Uncle Will went through it. The sound of boiling water and the smell of cooked meat emanated from it. "You're lucky, you know?" Uncle Will continued from the kitchen. "I decided to fix an extra large portion, so there's plenty for you, too!"

Olivia peered in through the door. The kitchen was small but well equipped. Everything one would need to fix meals for oneself. She could tell that Uncle Will had installed some of his old utensils from Freeport 10.

"It smells great."

"Yeah?" Uncle Will turned and smiled at her. "I hope it tastes great, too!" He laughed.

Olivia looked around the hall again. To her right was the door to the living room, straight across from her the door to the bedroom. She knocked on the door to her right and listened closely. A faint muttering came from with in.

"How's Mom?" Olivia asked, turning back to the kitchen. Uncle Will stood before the stove, stirring the food in the pot on top of it. He sighed.

"Today is a... quiet day for her." He replied. "Go on in, she'll want to see you."

Olivia stepped back towards the living room door and carefully pushed it open. The room was small, like all the others, but still a comfortable size. Though the once white walls were stained yellow and the carpet's color had long ago faded away, the light flooding in through the east-facing wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling windows nonetheless gave it a pleasant appearance. In one corner stood a small dinner table. Along the far wall lay a cheap, plush couch. Beside it, in a wheelchair, sat a woman. Her long, dark hair fell into her face. Her hands lay in her blanket-covered lap. She stared absently at the wall across from her.

Olivia took a few steps into the room, observing the woman. She didn't react to her. Olivia crept closer and kneeled down in front of her.

"Mom?" she said softly. The woman kept staring ahead, not noticing her. Olivia reached out with her right hand and gently touched the woman's knee. "Mom, it's me. Olivia." The woman slowly turned her head towards her. For a brief moment, they locked eyes. Olivia's mother faintly muttered something Olivia couldn't make out. Then her focus faded and she stared straight through her daughter, becoming silent again.

Olivia gently patted her mother's leg, sighed, and got up. She walked over to the dinner table and placed down the bottle of wine.






"So, how's space?" Uncle Will asked as he put down his knife and fork neatly on his empty plate. He smiled at Olivia. Across from him, Olivia finished the last of her meal.

"It's keeping me busy," she replied. "There's plenty of work for a freelancer."

Her uncle nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, I bet. What with the pirates and insurgents. You're keeping safe though, right? Not taking any jobs too risky?"

Olivia cocked her head to the side and smiled mischievously. "Of course, Uncle Will. I'm a mercenary who doesn't take any risks." Uncle Will laughed and she found herself chuckling, too. Beside her, her mother gazed listlessly across the table. Olivia reached out and carefully caressed her hand. Her mother briefly twitched at the touch, then remained motionless.

Uncle Will watched silently for a minute or two. "How's that friend of yours," he finally asked, "the police officer?"

"Police lieutenant," Olivia corrected him, still caressing her mother's hand. She glanced over at her uncle and smiled softly. "She's doing fine. I was actually spending some time with her just before coming here."

Her uncle curiously raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah, we ran into each other near Philadelphia. It seems she took yesterday's 'tirade' to heart." Olivia looked back to her mother, sighing. "She promised she'd be more careful in future."

Uncle Will leaned back in his chair and sighed, relieved. "See? I told you she'd listen."

"She still managed to get in a fight with some jackass, though," Olivia went on, a smile on her face. "She took him out easily enough." Her uncle smiled, listening. Olivia reached out with her other hand and cupped her mother's within both of hers. "I'm just glad things turned out alright. I was worried I was too harsh on her yesterday. That I might have scared her off."

Uncle Will leaned forward. "Come on, Olivia. She'll know you're only trying to look out for her."

Olivia nodded silently. Her mother's gaze slowly wandered around the room, looking at everything but her. Uncle Will reached over and with his fingertips gently brushed the hair out of her face.






Olivia stood at the apartment door, ready to leave.

"Are you sure you don't want to take any of the leftovers," Uncle Will asked her, standing in the kitchen door, a parcel of food in his hands. Olivia smiled and shook her head.

"No thanks, Uncle Will. I'm good."

Her uncle disappeared into the kitchen. "Suit yourself!" He called out with a laugh. Olivia turned towards the door and grabbed the handle to slide it open.

"I'm heading out," she called out to Uncle Will. "Thanks for dinner, it was great!" She opened the door and stepped forward.

"Olivia?" a soft, faint voice spoke from behind her. She froze.

"Olivia, dear?" the voice repeated, a little stronger. Olivia's hands shook. It was a voice she had not heard in a long time. She took a deep breath and turned around, facing back into the apartment.

"Olivia, is that you?" Her mother, in her wheelchair, sat in the door frame to the living room. Her eyes were clear as she gazed up into her daughters face. Her lips formed a weak smile. "Is that you?"

Uncle Will appeared in the kitchen door. He glanced from Olivia to her mother and back. Olivia hands clenched into shaking fists and she took a careful step towards her mother.

"Yeah, Mom. It's me," she said quietly. The smile on her mother's face broadened at the sound of her voice. She raised her frail hands towards her daughter, shaking slightly from the effort.

"Oh, my dear, it's been so long," she spoke. Olivia took another ginger step forward, tears forming in her eyes. She could not remember when she had last heard her voice so clearly. Her mother's gaze slowly wandered around the hall, searching.

"Where's Rob?" she asked, a quizzical expression on her face. Uncle Will lowered his gaze. Olivia froze again. "Where is he?" Her mother repeated, worry creeping into a soft voice. Olivia stared at her. Her mother locked eyes with her again, fear growing in her voice. "Where is Rob?"

"Mom..." Olivia started.

"Olivia, where is Robert!" Her mother shouted, pressing her hands into her wheelchair's armrests, trying to raise herself up. "Where is he! What did you do?"

Olivia took a step back, staring at her mother. The woman's arms shook under her weight and she fell back into the wheelchair. Uncle Will stepped up and kneeled down beside her.

"Where is he?! Where is Robert?!" Her voice transformed into a hysterical screaming, her face an angry, panicked expression. "Where is he?! Where is he?!" Olivia could feel her face go pale and the hall around her blurred through the tears.

"Olivia, it's best you leave," Uncle Will said over his shoulder as he reached out and grasped her mother by hers. "Your mother will be fine, just let me take care of this."

"Samantha, listen to me-," Uncle Will spoke to her mother as Olivia turned and walked out the door, gently sliding it shut behind her. Through it, she could hear her uncle soothingly talk to the crazed woman as she continued to scream hysterically for her son.

Olivia stood in the hallway, the ceiling lights flickering, and let the tears run down her face.