The windows are closed despite the lack of air con, curtain rod still bent at one end.
The back door is open, at least that brings in a breeze occasionally.
But the flies and roaches have made themselves at home here.
No wonder I was covered in bite marks as a kid.
???
I recognise the signs too easily.
She’s drowning in depression.
No money to see a doctor, either.
Every penny gambled or poured down his throat.
But the way she looks at me, her eyes have barely left my face since we got here.
They hold so much love it’s almost painful to see it.
I try not to look at the gap where those two teeth used to be, but she notices of course.
“Tooth fairy still hasn't been,” she laughs.
I smile awkwardly.
“Waiting for that bitch to leave money under my pillow.”
“Ma…”
“Could have bought you a birthday present if I'd had enough coins to spare.”
“Ma, it’s okay.”
She looks as though she might cry.
Amos whispers in my ear.
“Be right back.”
He sprints out to the truck.
None of it seems real, being here again, stepping back into the nightmare.
Worn furniture, covered in ugly faded orange sheets.
This dim shadowy room with that same crooked light fitting.
The one I spent countless nights staring at every time dad raised his voice.
Walking through the door took every ounce of courage I have.
Being within spitting distance of that feral wanker almost killed me.
But seeing her again is worth it.
Amos returns, holding the second melon.
