Nothing But Trouble

28/parking lot secrets

chapter: parking lot secrets
blake ren

        I gazed down at my mother in absolute silence, watching as Vince lowered her onto the sunken couch, her eyes lazy and yet full of tranquility as the dope began its course through her bloodstream. I ignored the itching desire to grab the bottle of pills tipped over on its side on the dirty glass coffee table and flush its contents down the toilet. The only way to soothe her flare ups was with more of what caused them. A familiar endless cycle.

I stubbornly moved my eyes, disgusted with the way she treated herself. It was fine. It was nothing new. It was just easier if they stayed in the bedroom to do these things. I didn't necessarily find the crushed up powder and dusty blade to be very tasteful if I'm in the middle of making myself dinner like I was in this instance. Call me crazy, but whatever.

Vince held her limp hand for a long time and I forced myself to go back to my pot of boiling water before it overflowed. He had a caring side, who knew? Maybe he was nice to everybody else but me. Yeah, something about me must just really piss that fucker off. My mom always knew how to pick them, though, because that seemed to be a reoccurring pattern in all of her boyfriends. The ones that put her hands on her were usually kicked out within a couple months, but to hell with her kid if they touched her, right?

I tried to hurry up with my cooking as fast as possible, ripping open the powdered cheese pack for my macaroni and cheese I was preparing for myself while the air got more tense the farther my mother's mental state drifted. She was here in the room with us, but Vince and I were alone. I knew how it worked. I'd breathe too hard, or my top showed too much skin and I'll either get shoved into the wall or my body groped like a stuffed animal.

         "Get me another beer," he grunted from the living room. I lifted my eyes that were fixed into a glare, seeing that he had left my mother alone on the couch and was laying back in the recliner with the remote in his hands trying to turn on the TV.

         I didn't answer, but I knew he heard me pull the fridge door open and clink the bottles together as I grabbed one for him. He got the TV to light up the dark room and flipped through the channels impatiently. I paused for a moment to take a look at the cold beer bottle, acknowledging the weight of it in my hand. It was heavy and cool to the touch, leaving a numb crispness on my fingertips the longer I held it. Just so curious as to how hard I'd have to hit him with it to knock him out.

        "Fuck," he sighed under his breath. I felt my blood simmering under my skin. Having to be near him. Knowing he's the hand that feeds me my meals, but my mother her addiction. How much longer could I take with him? Why was my mother taking so long with this loser? What about him was enough reason to keep him around for the last two years? Why wasn't he gone already?

        "Ya' solving cancer over there or some shit? Hurry up." I had my eyes trained on him, but eventually stole a glance at the withering form on the couch. I surrendered and walked the beer over to him.

        I knew exactly why she kept him around. She was weak, and losing her beauty faster everyday. The woman laying with scabs on her arms and thinning hair had run out of vigor, sex appeal, whatever it was that hooked these men like she was her very own kind of drug for them to sample. She was slowly killing herself, and she didn't care if it was with the fucking pope or Vincent Wilson by her side because she was too high to even notice somebody was there to keep her company.

        She may have been my mother, but I had given up on her a long time ago.

        I felt a hand smack my cheek, not hard enough to leave a mark, but enough to make me gasp and hold my stinging face. Vince was glaring at me with annoyance. "You purposely being a fucking pain in the ass ignoring the words coming out of my mouth right now? While your lazy ass is off doing fuck knows what with those r*tarded ass friends of yours, I'm putting food on the table for you so I expect some god damn respect out of your ungrateful fucking ass, Blake. Did you hear me?!"