Hendrix ✓

15 ★ Ash

𝔾𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕚𝕣 - 𝕁𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕤

"She got ash on her dress,

and the devil in her eyes,

a Texas disposition,

and a temper just like mine."

Hendrix POV

It's late, dark, cold. Why is it so cold here? More importantly, why did I agree to move here? It's actually 45° Fahrenheit today. That's ridiculous.

So, I'm bundled up in my bed. The background music of my record player floating around my while I deal with a slight pain in my head. I'm still trying to cope with everything that's changed in my life. School, and now a crush? Two things that take up my thoughts. One more so than the other.

Cedric. Why can't I stop thinking about him?

It's been so bad that I've had to cut back my hours at the diner. So instead of slightly struggling with money, I'm almost broke, barely getting by. Paying for school, rent, and food is getting harder and harder. It wasn't any easier when my Mama and I were both working jobs when I was in high school. Our expenses were tough, especially with her hospital bills.

But, I have to focus on school. I'm paying hard earned money for an education. The plan is to move back to Mississippi and get a good paying job, and then earn enough money to hire a private investigator to track down my Daddy.

Call me persistent, because I can't find the man to save my life.

I've tried Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, even LinkedIn. It's crazy, but I can't find him. No Beau Stringfellow that happens to be my father. No amount of googling can make him turn up.

One day, when I have the money, I'll find him. That's what I've always wanted to do.

I still don't know what I'll do when I find him.

Now I'm thinking about my mom. My poor Mama. She turned to the wrong things to comfort her when Daddy left. Alcohol, drugs, cigarettes. I tried to avoid supporting her habits, knowing that it was destroying her from the inside out, but it was impossible. She still went ahead with it, not listening to my begging and pleading. All she had to do was push me out of the way.

And now she's paying the price. She has lung cancer, stage 4. She was diagnosed when I was just a Junior in high school. Her lifestyle caught up with her too quickly. The hospital bills are outrageous, the debt too much. I'm still sending money home even now. But the thing is, my Mama won't even tell me how bad it really is.

I know she doesn't want me to worry, but worry is
all I do when it comes to her.

The thoughts surrounding her become too much to take, they scream and thrash until I grip my phone tightly in my hand. I reach for the speakers, turning the volume down until the music is practically non existent.

Opening my phone with a click, I dial on the annoyingly small buttons until I find her name in my contact list. I stare at the old phone while I chew on my bottom lip. Pressing dial, I fall back onto my pile of pillows with a sigh, squeezing my eyes shut and rubbing at my forehead.

"Hi sugar, how's my favorite girl?" Mama's sweet southern voice drawls, raspy from the years of chain smoking. I try to smile, even if she can't see me.

"Hey, Momma. Thought I'd call and check in on you." I tell her, and she laughs. I can imagine her on the front porch with a cigarette dangling between her fingers, waving her hand in dismissal of the attention.