I stood at the end of the drive way, waiting for my bus. The wind had a piercing chill to it that morning. The rain was washing the gravel out of the drive way, leaving nothing behind but a hole to stand in. finally the bus came down the road and slashed into a puddle just before my stop. I got on and went to school for the first time in two weeks. When I got back home there was a white truck sitting by the barn, and the dogs were lying in front of the rusted swing set that I have not played on in five years. I have not seen that truck around here before so I walked fast enough to get to the house but slow enough to show I was not panicking. I flung open the screen door to see a stretcher with a white sheet covering a man’s body. The guy looked at me “son do you leave here?”
“Yes” I replied.
“Why don’t you sit and I will talk to you when I finish here.” He said concerned.
I went and sat at the kitchen table. Thinking to myself “dad must be home, his truck is still here.”
The man wheeled the guy away. Then came back into the house. “Where is my dad?” I asked. The man said “that was your father. He had a heart attack.”
I was sent to live with my mother. I have not seen her since I was ten. i was handed a ticket and brought to a train station. My mother picked me up after the ride. She was nothing like I picture or remembered.
When I was ten years old my dad had taken me with him after Mom got set away. I still remember her voice singing to me right after tucking me into my race car bed sheets. Her soft hands would hold mine. She sang,
“Golden slumbers kiss your eyes; Smiles await you when you rise. Sleep, Pretty baby, And I will sing a lullaby.” Her head would rest on mine, as my eye lids fell. Then she would shut out the light, and close the door tight but then open is again then shut it with just slither of light to shine in.
She looked dead. Her eyes were sunk in and dark. Her hair looked like she just got out of bed. This is my mom? I knew had had been coo coo like dad had said but never have I once seen her like this. She smiled and hugged me tight her smile was perfect, just like I remembered. She had the same smell, coffee.
Throughout the months living with my mom she has had a bad temper. But they one like tonight was nothing I had seen before. She had taken on a new hobby, either collecting liquor bottles or drinking them dry. That night she was mad. She was very quiet and mad, I could tell. I went to sleep that night missing my dad more than I ever have. I wondered about his death and was it a real heart attack. All of a sudden I hear my lullaby. The one she sings, slowing being sung. The footsteps were thin but noticeable. I heard a blade. A blade being sharpened? Maybe she wants to say good night and was cooking. She sat at the edge of my bed and put her hand in mine, then rested her head on mine. I missed that. Then she mumbles something. I could not understand. She stops singing and looks up and says it again. “You left your mom.” Her eyes were dark and her skin was sweaty. She was breathing hard and I knew she was going back. She swings once then twice then I ran. She followed slowly behind me. The hall way seemed like it went on forever. She tried to run but something made it hard for her to run. Then I looked closer and her leg was cut. Then her arm was bleeding and her cheek. She must have missed me and hit herself. I ran down the stairs to get a phone but it was too dark for me to see anything. Knowing she was right behind me I sat behind the counter top and waited. She was there out of nowhere just appeared and came at me again. I ran through the sliding glass door. I had looked back and seen she had been stabbed, she must be hitting herself. I ran for about a mile till I woke up with cop cars surrounding me. They had put hand cuffs on me and I seen my mother’s body laying ten feet away. When they put me in the back of the car the lights reflected off the mirrors and into my eyes. I heard a man’s voice on the radio saying “young male sixteen years old, responsible for both murders of his parents.” I thought what kid in the right mind would kill his own parents? The next couple hours I zoned in and out while riding with the cops. He only would look back for a few seconds and keep his eyes on the road. I thought about my mom and how she must have killed herself while coming after me. I woke up for the third time in the car and I looked out the window to see a jail house. The cop had said you are here now. I wondered what was happening. I was put in a white jump suit and sent to a questioning table. The lights were harsh on my eyes and the ringing of them buzzed in my ears. The fat man sat down in the chair. His cubby hands lifted papers and said John Colts. “Sir why am I here?” I asked. He looked at me puzzled. “You murdered both of your parents John.” The man said. “That cannot be. My father died from a heart attack and my mother had killed herself while trying to kill me.” I said angrily.
For as many years as I have been normal, well thought I have been normal, I have black outs and I have been hurting people for many years. I dream up my own life and make it seem that I am back in my childhood. When I was ten I really did not get sent to be with my dad. I was sent to live in a home for people with mental diseases. Now I will sit here alone in my tiny cell, remembering the people I have hurt. I will feel guilty but I know I will do it again.
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