The Cruel Horizon[Old]

The door clicks shut behind them with the finality of a jail cell locking. For a heartbeat, the apartment is pitch black—just the hum of the ancient refrigerator and the too-loud sound of Obinai's own panicked breathing. Then the overhead light flickers on with a harsh buzz, exposing every dust mote in the air like evidence at a crime scene.

Oh hell.

The living room looks different at night when you're in trouble. The sagging couch with its permanent butt-dent suddenly seems like an interrogation chair. The framed school photos on the wall—including that awful one from third grade where he'd decided to cut his own hair—feel like mugshots. Even the smell of Pine-Sol and last night's meatloaf turns accusatory.

Maria doesn't move. Just stands there in her favorite faded robe, arms crossed, one slipper tapping against the floor. The light catches the silver streaks in her hair, making her look like some kind of wrathful goddess.

"So," she says.

Obinai's mouth goes Sahara-dry. "Look, Ma, I—"

"Uh-uh." She holds up a hand. The other grips her infamous wooden spoon—the one that's seen more action than some prized fighters. "Try again. With the truth this time."

Obinai's eyes dart to the hallway. Maybe if I—

"Don't even think about it," Maria warns, spoon pointing like a conductor's baton. "Your room's got a window, but Mrs. Ruiz's rose bushes ain't soft."

Damn. Knew I should've trimmed those.

"It was just Darren and Angel," he mumbles, scuffing his sneaker against the floor.

Maria's nostrils flare. "Mhmm. And I suppose y'all were doing what? Studying?" Her spoon taps against her forearm. Tap. Tap. Tap. Like a countdown...

Obinai swallows hard. "We were just... talking."

"Talking." Maria's eyebrow could cut glass. "At midnight. In the park. Where Officer Jenkins just happened to call me about some kid matching your description."

Fucking Jenkins. Nosy old—

The spoon whaps against the kitchen counter so hard Obinai jumps. "You stink of Reggie's and bad decisions!"

"It's not—"

"And don't you dare say it's incense!"

Obinai's shoulders hunch. Should've gone with the mugging story.

Maria sighs. "Those boys..." She shakes her head. "Angel's got no sense and Darren's got no brakes. And you?" She pokes his chest with the spoon. "You're supposed to be better."

The words hit harder than the spoon ever could.

Somewhere outside, a car alarm starts wailing. The neighbor's dog barks back. Normal night sounds that feel worlds away.

Maria's expression softens—just a fraction—as she studies his face. "I know you're..." She gestures vaguely. "Whatever this teenage rebellion is. But this?" She sniffs the air pointedly. "This is not you."

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Obinai stares at his shoes. The left one's untied. Again.

Then his mouth opens—closes—opens again. His fingers twist the hem of his pants. Think, dumbass, think—

"Ma, it's not like that," he finally manages. "We were just... chillin'."

Maria chuckles at this. "Even now you still find it in you to lie." She shakes her head, lips quirking despite herself. "For all that cunning, you're a terrible liar."

"Just chillin'?" she repeats. "Obinai, do you know how worried I was? It's late, you're sneaking around, and you don't even bother to check in. What am I supposed to think?"

"I didn't mean to worry you," Obinai says quickly, his hands moving in an awkward attempt to reassure her. "I just lost track of time, that's all. I'm sorry." His voice wavers slightly, betraying his nerves.

"You boys," she says. "Straight-A students. Never missed curfew. Now?" Her gaze flicks to his grass-stained knees, his bloodshot eyes. "You look like you've been dragged through a hedge backward."

Should've found a way to change my damn clothes.

"It's not that bad—"

"Not that bad?" Maria's voice climbs an octave. The spoon she's been white-knuckling clatters to the counter. "Obinai, I had Officer Jenkins calling me at midnight asking if I knew where my child was!"

The microwave clock ticks loudly in the sudden silence. 12:43 AM glows like an accusation.

Obinai's throat works. "I just lost track of time," he mumbles to his sneakers again.

"Look at me."

When he drags his gaze up, Maria's eyes are shiny. Not crying - Maria Nobunaga doesn't cry - but something worse. Disappointment.

"You think this is about rules?" She says. "This is about you not coming home in one piece. About someone finding your body in a ditch because you were too damn stubborn to—"

Her voice falters for a moment. Obinai drops his gaze to the floor again, unable to look at her. "I didn't mean to make you worry," he mumbles, his voice barely audible. "I am sorry I swear."

Maria exhales slowly, her posture softening slightly. "You need to start taking responsibility, Obinai. I'm not asking for perfection. I'm asking for honesty. Can you at least give me that?"

Obinai nods stiffly. "Yeah," he says, his voice strained. "I'll… I'll do better."

Maria exhales slowly, her shoulders slumping as she leans against the back of the couch. The anger in her face softens, replaced by an exhaustion that cuts deeper than her yelling. She shakes her head, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at him again.

"I'm not mad about the mistake, Obinai," she says. "I'm mad because you didn't think."

The words land like stones.

She lifts her head, dark eyes locking onto his. "You're following the crowd, changing on me—and for what? To drown out the noise?" A bitter laugh escapes her. "Your father left scars on this family, but we work every damn day to heal them...especially him. You think weed is gonna silence that?"

Her voice fades in and out, and Obinai shifts uncomfortably, his hands twisting together as he stands frozen, unsure if he should speak or stay silent.

Without warning, she grabs his shoulders firmly, her fingers digging into his hoodie, making him wince.

"Listen to me," she says. Her eyes lock onto his. "If I ever catch you doing this again, things won't be so easy for you. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yeah," he stammers, nodding quickly. "I understand."

Maria's grip tightens briefly, as if to make sure her words have landed, before her fingers relax. She doesn't release him right away, her gaze holding his as if searching for some flicker of sincerity. When she finally lets go, she steps back with a sigh.

Obinai rubs his shoulders. "I get it," he mutters. "I won't mess up again. I promise."

Maria studies him for a moment longer, then turns away, walking toward the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. Her steps are slower now. She pauses near the entrance to the hall, her back to him, her hand resting lightly on the wall.

"You've got dinner on the table," she says softly, not looking back.

Obinai blinks, surprised by the shift. "Thanks," he murmurs, unsure if she even hears him.

Maria turns her head slightly, just enough for him to see the profile of her face. "You only have one life, Obinai," she says. "Why not live it to the fullest? Why waste it on choices you know will hurt you?"

Obinai doesn't respond. He nods silently...

Maria looks at him for another beat, then disappears down the hallway, her footsteps fading into the quiet of the apartment. Obinai stands there for a moment, staring at the spot where she had been tears starting to form in his eyes.