Disclaimer

The following is one of many installments for a story designed specifically for my blog.  While it does step out of my usual genre, there are some things still not suitable for a younger audience.  Violent/Graphic descriptions, strong language and sexual situations may be found through different sections.  Each entry will tell a small portion of the story during different times and may not directly follow the one prior to it.  

This story follows the direct interactions, as well as the deteriorating thoughts of a young man who is struggling not only with the relationships he has with those around him, but with the relationship he has with himself as well.

Finally, all work is strictly fiction and does not reflect the views of the author.  Any resemblance to actual person(s) is only a coincidence.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, then avoid these excerpts and hopefully I’ll see you around my other posts!

———-

“I just don’t know Scott, maybe we should get you to the hospital…”

“I’m FINE mom.  Really.  I think I just worked a little too hard is all.”

He sat on the edge of his chair at the dinner table, hunched over, with his head between his legs.  He ached from the inside out and wanted nothing more than to be left alone.  Across the table, his mom let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re NOT fine Scott.  You haven’t been acting like yourself for weeks, you’re having headaches almost every day and now this?  What is going on with you?”

The question hung in the air importantly, demanding an answer he didn’t have, and when she realized that it wouldn’t be forthcoming she threw her hands into the air and turned toward the kitchen window.

“I know things have been tough since your father left…”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said; You. Don’t. Know. Anything!  Did you hear me that time?”

“I think you better watch your tone, mister.  I’m still your mother and you WILL respect me!”

“Go on, tell her.”

He sat up very slowly, partially because he wasn’t sure of what would happen, but mostly because he wanted the dramatic effect it would have.  He was angry.  His heart ached for a time when his family was whole, but was heavier still knowing that it would never be so, again.

“He left because you drove him away,” he said quietly.  His voice was almost inaudible and if it wasn’t for the shock that was beginning to register on her face, he would have thought that she hadn’t heard her.

“A good start, but you can do better.”

“You care more about your work than you do for us.”

“How…how can you say that,” she gasped.

“Simple.  For years you’ve only spoken of false promises, filling our heads with vacations that would never come to be.  We would tell you about how much we missed you and then you would say you would take us to the park or something to make up for the missed dinners, birthday parties, or whatever.”

“Scott, that’s not fair,” she said weakly.

“No?  And what do you call what you did to us?”  He paused long enough to take a breath.    “So, how can I say that you drove him away?  If you were so goddamn busy that you couldn’t spend any of your free time being a mother, then how the HELL could you even be a good wife?”

“That’s enough,” she finally erupted.  Tears were streaming down her cheeks, pouring from eyes now filled with pain and anguish.

“Everything I have done has been for this family and you know it!”

“Oh really,” he asked mockingly.

“You’re damn right, mister, and you have some NERVE talking to ME that way.”

“Good.  Now you have her right where I want her.”

“You have some nerve calling this,” he gestured wildly, “a family,”  He spoke through his teeth, and as he did he placed both hands on the table and pushed himself to a standing position.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

“We’re done here.  I have somewhere to be tonight.”

“We’re not done until I say we’re done!”

“Oh yeah,” he asked.  His voice rose, drawing the word out at the end.

“Sit your ass-”

At that moment, however, her pager began to buzz on the table and both turned to watch as it moved a little from the vibration.  She slowly reached for it, both of them knowing that the number on its screen was from her work, and when she looked up he was gone.  His footsteps echoed through the house as he ascended the stairs two at a time.  When he got to his room, he closed the door and leaned his head against it, gasping through tears of his own.

“Oh god, don’t be a pussy Scott.  She had it coming.”

“…shut up,” he answered weakly.