Albeit still worried about me, she gave in and started fixing the shed. When the snow on Alfie's patch finally cleared, I laid on the cold hard ground, protecting Alfie with my little body.

"You will be okay. I'm here," I murmured.

Once the shed was holding again, my mother hugged me from behind, gasping from exhaustion. The love I felt from her conquered the fear, the worry, and the sadness. She embraced me like the world was depending on it.

"He'll be okay."

As those words resonated in the air, my past and present collided. The same face which had showered me with love came into my view. She was still beautiful despite the appearance of little lines of ageing. Her once mid-back long hair was now only tipping atop her shoulder. Under the confusion, it took me moments to process I was facing my reality.

My oblivious crying only registered when I felt my mother's soft fingers brushing away the tears on my cheeks. How long had I let myself fade behind those memories? What I was sure of, my mother patiently waited for it to recede.

"Let's get inside okay," she said tenderly.

I glanced at Alfie's patch again. But my mother's persistent persuasion called for my attention. "He's alright," she repeated.

Somehow, I was assured by the glimmer in her eyes; they never failed to show me the right way. Nodding, I pulled myself up and followed her back to the house.

Once we reached the door, she uttered, "Dry up. I'll make us tea."

After a quick change of clothes, I went to the kitchen where she was already waiting for me. When I saw her holding something which looked like a photo, I instantly knew there would be a conversation coming.

"What's that?" I asked, taking the seat next to her.

With a smile on her face, she flipped over the photo. A skinny young teenager was on it. His cheekbones were jutting out of his face. Even his clavicle looked outward visibly; lacking the substantial flesh.

"This is your father," she let out. Her fingers brushed over the photo where his face was on it. The lights in her eyes fading.

At first, I was shocked. What followed was happy for the chance to see my father, yet immediately replaced by worry at the hint of sadness on my mother's face.

The teen's condition was somewhat usual to me. I learnt about pod men at school. A study concluded most of them were born or should I say emerges with illness and wouldn't live long.

The pod men, my father, to be precise, had no eyes. He was staring blankly into nothingness. Despite that, he almost looked like a perfect human being.

"Believe it or not, I love him. But maybe I didn't love him enough" —my mother stared into the photo— "he died after only five days. They took him, save whatever was left of him so I could have you. And I was among those lucky." Her lips curled upward as she finished her sentence.

'They' that she had just mentioned was HEROIN, an institute responsible for researching the continuity of humankind. They studied pod men for decades now.

"How old were you when he emerged, ma?" I gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Just about your age," she answered. Her eyes shifted towards the shed in our backyard before she continued, "Alfie could be soon." Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper as if it was taboo.

I tailed her sight and gazed at the shed too. The anticipation of meeting Alfie stormed into me. I started to wonder how he would look, what colour of hair would he have, and every other aspect of his character.

But I was also aware of the possible condition waiting for him: missing body parts, deformity, and many more. The news also revealed legitimate evidence of the study. A sense of dread arose each time I thought of it.

"Would you still love him if he doesn't measure up to what you expect?"

The question was a hit for my underlying thoughts.

Love?

For a moment, I was baffled. I cared so much about Alfie, but was it what she meant by love? Frankly, I didn't understand the feeling.

"I would," I replied, even though I was unsure.

Should I feel guilty for telling myself the word? And telling myself, I should.

"I never believe that they were mindless being," she divulged with what I could make out as a resentful tone. Her eyes gazed to the photo once more, "When I first met your dad, I saw the life in him...He had a soul," she grieved.

***

I was pensively staring outside and looking at the autumn scene before a peculiar sound caught my attention. I turned my head to see an irk on my best friend's face. She was still snapping her fingers in the air on her resolute mission to make me notice her. The very least, it worked.

"Earth to Charis. Is anybody there?"

"Sorry, Alatha, I was just spacing out," I replied, wearing an apologetic look.

"Are you sure you're not galaxing out?" She narrowed her eyes at me.

I pouted. "I'm not!"

"Uh huh... Then what did I just say?"

Luckily, my eardrum stored some of her words. The last thing I remembered was she telling me about her crush, but she didn't say who it was.

"About that girl..." I muttered.

She hummed since I probably answered it correctly. But she didn't look convinced at all. When her eyes moved to where my ice cream had melted entirely, my point of denial dissolved.

"Would you tell me already what's up?" She raised one of her eyebrows, a signature look of her persistence.

Thus I knew there was no means of keeping the issue.

"What happened to your pod? You stop talking about him since" —I paused to think back and came back with none— "I can't remember."

With narrowed eyes, she blinked a couple of times. "Him?" she implored. "Don't you mean it?"

My gasp almost tumbled, hurt pulling on it. The aroma of ice cream failed to sweeten my sudden bitter. I moved my gaze back to the outside, yet my mind stayed on Alatha. We used to always agree with each other when we were younger. Alas, that was before pod men class exist.

"Yes, it," I answered idly, even though my heart was against it.

Her expression turned gloomy just for a second. Her mouth opened slightly then closed like she was hesitating.

After a while, she finally spoke, "It died," she said, shrugging it off like it was nothing. "It wouldn't survive for sure. They dug it out, it was missing everything on its face. An autopsy done, it wasn't even fertile."

I looked at her solemnly, despite her indifference expression, I was sad for her, "I'm sorry, Alatha."

"Don't be. I'll adopt. I'm not planning on ruining my body with pregnancy," Alatha interjected. "Why are you asking me this anyway?"

Alatha was my best friend, but I wasn't sure if the matter I had in mind would be of any importance to her. By how she responded to my question, I hesitated more.

"Nothing," I lied to her.

"One thing you still suck at doing is by all means lying." She gave me a deadly stare.

"Seriously, I was just curious. That's all," I replied with another lie.

After pretending not to be fazed by occupying myself with my phone for an outstanding 5 minutes, I looked back at her. Surprisingly, she was still glaring at me.

"Fine! Stop it already," I snorted. "My pod, I had a feeling it would soon emerge." My confession came out in a whisper to make sure nobody would hear it.

"What do you mean you have a feeling?" She made an air quote with her fingers while she said the word feeling.

"Well didn't you? I mean-" I wanted to explain the connection, but she was already giving me a weird look, so I decided not to tell her. "Just a hunch."

"Do you remember Peggy?"

My eyes boggled up when she mentioned the name. I knew why she brought it up. And of course, how could I forget that poor girl name Peggy.

To be continued...