AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Almost.
Lying on my back under the car, I frown up at the dark metal, and it fades, so that I see a night without stars, a road vanishing in black mist, and I shiver.
Cole fell and hit his knee sometime during the day, and the neighbor supposedly looking after him didn’t think to let me know. Mary is shooting me baleful glances and won’t speak to me when I go to pick them up in the later afternoon.
Girl hates me.
I have to drag her to the bathroom to brush her teeth, and then her hair tie gets caught in her hair, and she wails as I try to take it out, even though I try my godfucking best not to hurt her.
I don’t wanna hurt them.
Gritting my teeth, I wrestle the damn thing out of her golden curls and sit her down on the closed toilet seat. Just in time to catch Cole before he pitches over into the bathtub.
While I hold on to my son’s small body as he flails and whines, Mary takes the opportunity to jump off the toilet and run out of the bathroom, wailing some more.
I stand in the middle of the badly lit bathroom, trying to catch my breath, not sure what the fuck to do. My kids don’t know me anymore. They don’t like me.
They sure as hell don’t love me.
I took them away from the only other family they still have—my mom, who took care of them while I lost myself. I barely saw them over the past three years, and then I yanked them away from the only home they remember and brought them here, to this small town in the middle of nowhere, leaving them during the day with a woman who can’t look after them.
I’d fucking hate me, too.
Cole screams and I curse, putting him down. He runs away from me as fast as his little feet can carry him, and I step back until I hit the wall and slide down.
Fuck this shit. I was never good at this. She was. She wanted kids. She loved them, and I… I was helpless when it came to her.
Now that sounds like I regret them. Which isn’t true. I love them.
I just don’t know how to deal with it.
Chri
st, I need to sleep. It’s been a while since I last managed a couple of hours in a night. I’ll force it on myself, since nothing else works. Everything, anything to forget the past. To forget Cole’s little mournful face as I walked out this morning, Mary’s wail.
By the time I push back to my feet and splash my face at the sink, then make my way to the kid’s bedroom, the brats are two lumps under their covers, pretending to be asleep.
Like every night.
They won’t let me tuck them in.
“Good night,” I whisper, not sure they hear me. I stare at them a bit longer, remembering when I first held them in my arms, tiny, squirming bundles of energy and life.
My kids.
Switching off the light, I turn around and walk out to the kitchen. I leave the lights off. By touch I find the sleeping pills and swallow two with a gulp of water.
Resist the urge to take more. All of them.
Then I head into the living room and sink down on the sofa, turn on the TV and stare at it without seeing anything.
At some point, I’ll fall asleep. There’s no escape. And I know the nightmares are waiting for me.
The coffee is stale and toxic, like nuclear waste, burning my mouth. Across the sky dawn is breaking in red and yellow.
At long fucking last.
Dressed only in my sweatpants and a thin T-shirt, I’m standing on the porch, a mug in my hand I don’t remember getting from the kitchen, and a bitter fog in my lungs.
