He walked in the house at 1130 that night, which was very unlike himself. His North Face jacket reeked of weed and the out doors. His mother was up sitting in the kitchen. This was a sure sign that his “hardworking” father had not made it home yet and his mother was patiently waiting. She sat in the dark and the subtle moon light came in through the kitchen windows. She had a glass half full of Jack Daniels in her hand and a cigarette in the other. She was thinking, and from the looks of it when she began the glass was definitely full. She called him in the kitchen; he walked slowly with his head down ready to deal with his tired mothers yelling. She pointed for him to have a seat as she took a deep sigh. She peered out the window for a while, and calmly said, “Your lucky your fathers not in yet.” He began to defend his lateness and she gently put her hand up to silence him. She broke the silence, “But he’s not in is he? He never is.” Her words lingered in the silence and he stared at her, he looked in her deep eyes and saw his mother for what she really was. A delicate, scared and lonely woman trying her hardest to stay strong. That night him and his mother stayed up all night discussing their family, what went wrong and what will never be right again. He learned a lot that night. He learned of his father’s affairs and of his mothers problem drinking that was soon to become an addiction. From that night on, he begun to despise his father. As he watched his mother sink into an overwhelming depression; he hated his father for destroying a beautiful and good woman. It angered him that his father walked over them like they were nothing.
For the next week or so he wouldn’t speak to his father, who ignited many arguments and fits of rage; but it didn’t bother him, he wanted to make his father as angry as he had made him. His father hadn’t come home in three nights; his mother grew worried and weary. She had stopped cleaning and moped around as if she hadn’t anything to live for. It was a Wednesday night. He had watched his mother walk around with a glass in her hand for three days and was getting frustrated. He threw his jacket on, grabbed his board and started to walk out of the house. He looked back at her; she was starring at herself in the living room mirror, looking out of it. She began to dance around to The Temptations record she had been playing loudly. He felt bad leaving her alone, but he couldn’t deal with it and needed to bounce. As he skated toward the park, he hoped to see the girl again, even if it was for a quick second. He needed to grab hold of some kind of normalcy and sanity from being cooped up in the house all week. He sat on the empty bench and lit a cigarette that he had stolen from his mothers’ half empty pack. In the last month he had many firsts, and it felt as if his life had become a whirlwind. Demanding the immediate sacrifice of all he had ever had. He had smoked weed, disobeyed house rules, and was currently enjoying a cigarette. As he sat on the bench he allowed the breeze and the sunlight to take him away. If only for a few minutes he would leave his current state of mind and allow himself to get caught up in nature’s rapture. As he began to think of his mother, he saw the young girl walking up the path to the park. Her smile wide, showing that she was happy to see him. He thought harder about his mother, but he didn’t take his gaze off of the girl. He imagined that one day, his mothers’ smile was as bright as the girls, he wondered why his mother wasn’t as free spirited as the girl. Allowing life to take her where ever it saw fit. She plopped down on the bench closely beside him. She released a sigh of relief as if to say ‘Thank God’. They sat in silence for a few minutes. She began quickly talking about the tricky weather and random ideas that popped in her head. She had begun to roll up, and he noticed the insecure rambling once again. “You don’t have to ramble,” he said calmly, “I notice you only do it when you’re nervous, and you have absolutely no reason to be nervous around me.” She thought of a million comebacks but felt they were all unnecessary. She smiled and quieted down. As she continued to roll he decided to inform her that his dad hadn’t been home in three days. “Do you think he’s screwing around on your mom.” It was a funny suggestion, seeing that it was true, but it was blunt and to the point. He didn’t get upset, he was actually glad she just came out and said it instead of sugar coasting it or waiting for him to say it. All he said was “Yeah.” They left it at that and decided to sit there in silence and smoke. She tilted her head back and tears began to stream down her face. She quickly brushed them off and flashed an insecure smile. He was confused, a hug would be too intimate, but he couldn’t sit there as his only friend shed tears. She didn’t give him time to reply. She embraced him. They hugged for no reason in particular, it was just needed. She had heavy burdens she carried. He didn’t quite know about them yet, but he could feel them as if they were his own. They laughed at the silliness of their out of the blue embrace but inside they quietly thanked each other, for being the stability that each one needed.
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