So many things went through Jaxon’s mind as he stared at the blur of the kaleidoscope of colors rushing past. He flicked his cigarette out of the partially open window and replaced the earbuds in his ears. With Linkin Park blaring; he made his way back to his seat. He had been standing in the area between cars and as he walked toward the aisle, he placed his hand on the wall to catch his balance against the rocking floor beneath him. Since the seat next to him was empty, he propped himself against the window and stretched his long legs across the seats. With the lighter in his hand, he absent mindedly began burning the frayed holes in his jeans and snuffing it out with his fingers.
To others on the train he may have come off as aloof, like a 17 year old boy with a chip on his shoulder, but internally he was trying to figure out how he had gotten himself here, on a train to NY of all places. It’s not like Rick didn’t deserve it. If he had to do it all over again he wouldn’t have changed a thing. Well except getting caught. And seeing his mother’s face, he definitely hated disappointing her. He wanted so much to take the place as the man of the house. Take care of his mother. But all he seemed to accomplish was just the opposite. He couldn’t stop her tears so he stopped trying . . .
© Copyright 2016 Michael Marie. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Miscellaneous / Science Fiction
Miscellaneous / Other
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