Patterns of Betrayal

Part II - Through a stranger, becomes a Brother

Unfamiliar and strange men and women have been visiting his mother every late evening for the past several weeks now.

The strangers will knock on the door to their apartment in a particular pattern, pausing and tapping as if making out a sentence on the wood. He hasn't been allowed to open the door, his mother telling him that these were people he should not have contact with. He wonders then, often times, why she will invite these people into their home, and share conversations with them in the living room while he is locked away in the bedroom.

~~ ~~

The luggage drags along the gravel behind him as he lugs it toward the grey building. His mother has driven for twelve hours without a break to reach this place. He wonders how she is even awake at this point.

She begins gathering bags and boxes from the back of the van and carries them to the grey, metal door, climbing the front steps two at the time. He is surprised to see a slight spring to her step. His mother has been so quiet lately; so reserved and serious. She winks at him before going back to the car to gather more boxes. He is happy to see his mother excited for their new life. Even if that new life would be spent living in what resembled a grey box.

~~ ~~

A few of his mother's friends has been helping with the interior design of their new house, and finally the building feels more like a home rather than a cold, concrete building.

She let's him play with his toys on the carpet as she and another man sits under the single lamp hanging over the kitchen table. He feels lonely, his mother never having time to play with him anymore. He looks at the man sitting across from her in the other room. These people are taking all of her time. And energy. By the time they leave the house, she is too tired to even spare him a second glance before she goes to bed. 

Some nights she doesn't even remember to turn off the television. Those were the nights he stayed up watching videos and movies queued on the channel his mother would only let him watch until seven in the evening. Movies playing until past midnight. Films children shouldn't be exposed to. Scenes even his curiosity couldn't let him continue watching for another second, and would have him hurriedly reach for the remote to shut it off. It would stain the back of his eyelids with unwanted images that would occasionally also haunt his dreams.

No, he certainly doesn't like the people she keeps inviting.

~~ ~~

He glowers at the boy sitting next to him on the couch. Though aware of his hateful gaze, the boy- only a few years older than himself, happily watches television with a half eaten apple in his hand. The core is bitten into as well. Seeds are falling down on the couch, some falling in-between the pillows. There's the constant and sloppy sound of chewing next to him.

The fact that the boy is happy makes him even angrier. He has to share his belongings with this boy. A stranger. Another weird person in his mother's house. But something tells him that this one won't leave by the end of the day like the others.