George witnessed his mother tossing a vase across the room. Several of the fragments that fell on a prescription bottle and cigarette butts were spread.
That will stay ingrained in his memory forever.
She flung the glass of water she was drinking at him, shouting, "I asked you to do one thing!"
George started to sob as it struck him directly in the head.
"I told you to make me something to eat, but no!"
She pushed George away on the corner as she walked up to him fiercely and grabbed hold of his hair. "Your lazy ass wanted nothing more than to sleep on the couch!"
In terror, George pulled himself away. He wasn't intending to sleep on the couch; he was just simply exhausted.
As she returned to the kitchen to pour herself a new glass of water, her eyes started to grow angry.
It all started when her spouse left her a few months ago for someone; everything fell apart.
She was also enraged with her son George. He was just a continual reminder of her bitch of a husband every time she sees him.
She started smoking and using drugs to relieve the anguish of having her heart shattered, and things spiraled out of control.
George shook as he cautiously stood up.
He walked on tiptoe to minimize noise, but the sound of the creaking wood floor alarmed him.
His mother called out from the kitchen, "Where do you think you're going, huh?!"
She grabbed George's shirt from behind and yanked him down at the bottom of the stairs as he was ready to flee upstairs.
He looked up and his mum stared directly into his pure soul. His eyes, which resembled those of his ex-husband, infuriated her.
She then pushed George aside and barged upstairs to George's room.
George creepily followed her and saw her open his bedside drawer. As she pulled something out, he got the chills.
George noticed her holding those familiar glasses on both sides, and said, "You don't need this piece of shit anyway."
He started to panic as he ran towards her, "Mum! No! Please!-"
But it's too late.
She successfully tore it in half by using all of her strength, breaking the lenses in the process. When she tossed the pieces at him, George forced his legs down and sat in despair; he held the broken lens close to himself.
His father had worked very hard for the glasses, so it held a special significance for him. He found it to be a huge help with his color blindness.
She pushed everything off on top of the drawer, yelling angrily, "I don't fucking need anything to remind me of that sick bastard."
She then approached George and kicked him really hard by the stomach. "Especially, you."
George was forced to fall to the floor from the kick. In agony, he hugged his stomach. Tears start to form in his eyes.
When his mother spotted her phone on the ground, she picked it up. She stepped outside the room and made an unheard call.
Before his mother returned, George continued to hold his stomach in pain.
She tugged his hair once, "Get up."
He sobbed with torment because she had gripped a fistful of his hair so firmly that it was hurting his skull. A portion of the eyeglass frames was still in George's hand.
She dragged him downstairs before making a beeline for the front door.
George let go of the piece of his glasses and struggled to get his mother's hands off of his throbbing head. "Please!"
She pushed his entire body weight into the pavement outdoors while ignoring his cries.
After making a rough contact with the cement path with his elbow, which resulted in a minor wound, George sniffled.
She didn't even care to give his minor wound treatment.
She waited outside for ten minutes before spotting a shadowy white van. She let out a grin.
Three people emerged from the vehicle dressed in what seemed to be lab coats.
When they got close to George, two of them grabbed both his arms. He tried to scream and struggle back as soon as he was lifted off the ground.
The other handed his mother a medium-sized case, which she gratefully accepted.
He began, "Mum! Help me-" but was abruptly cut short.
His mother firmly warned him, "Don't even try to come back. Oh wait, you fucking can't." before delivering him one last hit to the shoulder; it didn't matter that it was her own son.
"I fucking hate you."
George finally broke down in tears.
One of those who carried him quickly covered his mouth with a cloth to prevent any noise from disturbing the neighborhood.
He had the feeling that he was going to pass out.
He felt someone secure him to a stretcher with wheels.
He was unable to resist. He let darkness take over his sight.
His mother waved as the van doors shut and it started to move.
She entered the house again, she closed and locked the door. She wasn't sure whether she regretted what she had just done, but she desperately needed a pack right now to let all the tension build up in her head release.
She kicked the lens piece on the floor, and it slid beneath the couch with a faint clack.
She pulled out a cigarette from the case and lit it quickly with a lighter. When she held the cigarette to her mouth, smoke began to form.
She muttered, "You cunt." as the image of her husband flashing across her mind just before she was struck. Not giving a damn that she almost couldn't breathe from the smoke escaping her mouth.
She saw the ring on her finger as she took a hit. That stupid ring.
Before taking another hit, she pulled it off in a furious manner and threw it aside.
When George awoke, the van was still going.
Nonetheless, he was immobile. He wants to cry, but he is helpless to do so.
He can't, truly. He's baffled as to why.
YOU ARE READING
《Playmate | DreamNotFound》
FanfictionA Poppy Playtime AU Your little broken heart is full of pain. Through the rest of your life, it will remain. Walls surround you, with nowhere to go. The walls are closing in, with no more airflow. No one can hear you like you are never there. No one...
