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I sort of remember and sort of don't remember her. It's a weird feeling. I've forgotten her voice, but not her face. She had these soft eyes. Almost like a purple when the light hit them just right. She had freckles all over her face like they were a map to the stars, blonde hair-- Err. Uh. See i'm not artist but if i were to draw her out it'd make more sense. I ain't good at describing things.
I always thought she was beautiful, even when i was small she was like- What's the fuckin' word for it? Not like an Angel, something... Holy. More than an angel. Shit, i wish i remembered her voice too... My dad never talked much about her after she left us. If i brought her up, well... You know what'd happen. Either that or he'd change the subject. I don't think he hated her, maybe he did-- But, ya can't really tell with that guy. Never could tell.
I remember when she left, i was 'bout 5 years old, or maybe 6. I'd pretended i'd fallen asleep 'cuz i liked being picked up and all that... 'Specially from her you know. TV was playing some cartoon with medieval rats. Or mice. Doesn't matter. Either way my ma picks me up, says something, I don't remember what it was. I get a small glimpse of her like the sneaky little shit i was back then. She prolly knew i was faking it. Maybe not. But she held me tight, close to her chest like i was some piece of fine china and i'd break. Like she didn't wanna let me go. Man... that glimpse i caught of her. I remember she had a busted lip. She looked so tired. She must've been. I never knew what she worked with-- Or if she worked. My dad wasn't at home at that hour, he was out late. I could hear her heart beating like a drum when she carried me to my bed.
Well, our bed. It was her bed too, back then i remembered the two of them didn't share one. Pretty clear why. Our bed was too small for her, she'd practically glue herself to the cold wall so she could give me space. I'd hug her, she hugged me. That warmth from her was like no other. You could fly to the sun and you wouldn't feel that way.
That night though... She didn't lay down with me. She put me to bed, kissed my head and ran her fingers through my hair. Then uh... i heard her start to sob. Sob and sob. I froze there. I could've tried to comfort her, i knew i could've tried to, i didn't know how. I froze. Didn't know what to say or do. I was supposed to be asleep. I wanted to ask her why she was crying... Did i fuck up again? Maybe i'd pissed her off too. She got mad at me too, not in the way my dad did... I just laid there still, like that homeless Jesus statue that's going around instagram.
When she stopped sobbing she got real quiet, still running her fingers through my hair. Did that for what felt like hours. She put her hand on my shoulder for a moment, then got up... I opened one eye again to see, and she was picking up some of her clothes, she put them inside of my backpack. Some shitty bootleg Batman backpack i had that i loved to death... I was tempted to get up and tell her then,
'What're you doing?'
'Why're you putting your clothes in my backpack?'
'Where are you going?'
'Can i come with?'
...It was like there was a lump in my throat. My ma zipped that backpack shut, cracked open the door and i couldn't handle it anymore. I wanted to know.
I raised my head up. I asked her if she was going to the store. She nodded. When the light hit her face i saw her lip was quivering. I was stupid... I ask her- I was really stupid.
I ask her if she could get me an ice cream.
Y'know... We'd get ice cream together late at night sometimes at the gas station, sometimes i'd follow and sometimes i wouldn't. My favorite ones were those strawberry crunch ones... We used to share it together, i used to get greedy and try to take bigger bites than she would-- She'd let me, obviously.
My ma nods again. I stare at her, she stares at me with that soft tired look in her eyes. I lay my head back down on my pillow...
She closes the door. I heard her rush outside.
I looked at that door for a bit, i really wanted her to come back. Not for the ice cream... Maybe a little bit for the ice cream. Y'can't blame me i was 5.
Then sleep got the better of me.
I woke up that morning without her warmth. I was confused, so i get up and make my way to the living room, my dad's passed out on the couch. I try to wake him up. I shake his shoulder and he tells me to piss off. Typical dad thing. I was scared shitless, i had to know. I gathered up the courage. 'Where's mom?' I asked him. He just snorts. Mumbles something about her being a 'bitch'. That wasn't much of an answer, and if i'd push his buttons further it'd just put him in a bad mood. I just sat there. Just hoping she would come back. She'd left for days sometimes too, though she'd always come back. That night was different.
My dad had slept on the remote, so all the TV had playing was some basketball game i coulda given less than two shits about. Whenever me and him went fishin' he always told me he hoped i'd be the next Michael Jordan, bring in some real cash, not like his dead-end job. He wanted me to have sneakers with my name and face branded on 'em... Geez. Basketball wasn't something i liked... If it meant making him happy, and if it could've brought back my ma... I was ready to do it.
Sometimes wish i could've gone with her, but then who would take care of my dad?