Those Boys

Kyle

I did a lot today, surprisingly. I don't know where mine went, but I'm assuming she went somewhere with those boys. That's not my problem right now though, I know she is safe for the most part. They won't touch my property. My job today was to ready her room. I painted it, a dark blue. I also took one of my mattresses and put it on the bed frame that I got yesterday. I'm going to put sheets on it in a moment.

Already my body throbs with excitement. She is coming – she will be here soon and we will be together. My one – my fire. Mine.

Done with the sheets, I sat down on the bed, smelling the sweet detergent. I had purposely bought that kind, for I smelled in on her that one day I was close enough to breathe by her, to feel her and smell her presence. The day I got to touch part of her.

I looked up at Mama. I whimpered…she looked angry with me again. She was yelling something, but I couldn't hear her, couldn't understand her… Without realizing what I was doing, I began rubbing my arm against the sharp edge of the head board. She raised her hand and I cowered, looking at her and trying to cry out."Mama, I love you!" the pathetic toddler cried out. I watched his mother, cruel, punish him for something or another. She struck at him again and again with her hands, not letting up until he had curled into a small ball. The crying toddler looked up at her, his brown eyes tear filled and she slapped him once more, hard, across the face. Even in the silence, one could hear the echo of the slap. We…I and the toddler…couldn't hear her, but we knew what she was saying. She was disgusted to have a wimpy child. She didn't want him. Didn't want us.

My arm slashed across the bedpost, and finally, relief came. Blood dripped off of the arm, swelling out. Release. She couldn't hurt us, not anymore. Our only enemy was ourselves. Disgusted with myself, I wiped the blood off onto a nearby paper towel. That would leave a nice scar when it healed. I had cut deep. I let it bleed.

Stella

I sat by the television, without turning it on. How was I going to tell Adam? We had been failing money wise for a while, but this meant that he was going to have to start working, if we wanted to keep the house. It seemed unfair to make my child grow up more than he already had to.

I had to start looking for a boyfriend too. If only for the monetary support. Long ago I gave up on Rob's father. He was a wimp, a runaway. I thought he loved me, but it turned out he loved himself more. But that's ok – forgiven. I'm also looking for a raise from my boss, and starting to work some overtime. Hopefully we won't lose that which him and I have worked so hard to hang onto, a house and a sense of home. But that’s a silly thought – home is where the heart is, and my heart lies within my child, my blood.

I should have stayed in the music for a tiny bit longer, even though I got my nursing degree. God knows I had the chance to, and maybe then we could be living in luxury. It all would have been so much easier if Gary had stayed with us, if only for another year. But instead he ran off.

I picked up the beat up acoustic that we had. The one that I've had for over twenty years. It was still in fantastic shape, with little to no bumps and bruises. I took out the cleaning solution that smelled slightly like lemon from underneath the guitar stand. I opened the bottle, inhaling the purifying fume, then set the guitar on my lap and poured a tiny bit of the solution onto the body of the instrument. I rubbed it in with a cleaning cloth.

I made smooth circles around the body of the guitar, rubbing the liquid against it like one would softly rub a baby to dry it off after a shower. My pace increased a tiny bit as I pushed a bit harder too, to create friction and leave it with a healthier shine. Satisfied, I flipped over the guitar and poured some more liquid on it. Adam should be home soon – it's about four. At 6 I have to go into work – I've started to work evening shifts now. But I'd be getting out at around 2 in the morning instead of 3 or 4. But then again, I'd be back on Monday at 10.

I rubbed the back of the guitar vigorously, wishing to shine it like I wanted to shine my life. If I had my way…no, never mind. I don't regret one thing that I've done. It's what I've done that led me to where I'm now, with my son. I set the guitar down and put the cleaning solution away too. I put the cleaning rag down, and picked up my guitar again. I fingered a few chords but didn't play.

I set it down, in frustration and walked out into the kitchen. I set the stove up to 350 and pulled out some frozen pizza from the freezer. Even if Adam wasn't home by the time it was done, I would have something to eat and he would have stuff for a late night snack.

So rarely did him and I ever get to sit down together and eat, tonight was no surprise. As I waited for the oven to heat, I realized just how bored I was. Him and I both needed a vacation. Maybe we would go up to the Adirondacks or out to the lake for a weekend or something. Anything to pass the time a tiny bit faster. Life is here to enjoy – I have to remember that. So many people, including myself, forget it in the everyday life. We're always working and spending, never having the time to kick back and relax and do something we want to do. For me? To play, or just have a week to write songs and let it all out. Find a boyfriend. Get married and have it last.

For Adam? He wanted to skate. He has that chance now – but he wants to seriously skate. That and write songs. He's just like me in that aspect – if he doesn’t pick up a guitar or some form of musical instrument, if he's not allowed to sing, he goes insane. You can't take music…good music…true music, sung from the heart, away from someone and expect that not to have consequences. That's why I always let him play when he needs to. God knows that he lets me do it when I need to.

I should probably give mom a call and let her know we're doing fine for the most part. And she should probably know about the monetary needs soon. If something doesn’t change in our lifestyle, we may very well end up living with them, across town and in the middle of nowhere. They weren't rich but they had a lot – enough to have a 60 acre yard full of fields and woods and animals. They would, no doubt, let us have board in their house for a bit of chores and work.

I don't want to go live with my parents again though. They are very…repressing. They don't mean to be, but I spent too long with them in the first place. The day of my 18th birthday I left for college and I haven't lived with them since then. Of course, look how things turned out…that's what mom thinks. She thinks that because I left home, I now have a son who I can't afford. That's why I don't want to live with them. I want…I desire…their respect.

I paced around the house. We needed a dog. If we could only afford one, then in no time I would get one. Something to keep the house noisy, alive, not quite so dead, when one of us wasn't home. Adam had to get lonely, me not being home half of the time. No doubt he had sneaked through my drawers. He had probably already had sex…no, not Adam. Not yet…he would tell me if he had done that.

I feel so left out of his life sometimes. I know he can't help it but the extent of our conversations lately have been asking how the day went for each other. We're still close but we lack that desirable need for each other. He's growing up and slowly separating himself from me. He's numbing himself to the world, getting used to all the pains and bumps and bruises that it brings along. Without me.

The buzzer rang for the oven – the oven was preheated so I could put the pizza in. I did, and set the timer for 25 minutes. I threw out the box and continued with my train of thought. What if Adam was getting into drugs and things? I haven't smelled any pot on him but I remember what I used to do to hide the smell after I'd been out with my friends. I'd do anything, I remember, from burning incense to washing my clothes at a friends house to get the dank, disgusting smell of weed off of me. And the perfume, loads of it. But…Adam wouldn't do that either. He's a good kid.

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