“Do you have to go?”
Looking up at my reflection in the mirror of the vanity in her room, my Mom sighed.
“Michael, do we have to do this every day?”
“I don’t like you working there.” I mumbled.
Giving me a sympathetic look she set to work gluing on a pair of massive fake eyelashes.
“Why can’t you have a normal job?” I demanded.
“Because I screwed up.” She snapped, “I met your Dad, dropped out of school and have been paying for it ever since.”
“So it’s my fault?”
“Did I say that Michael?”
“No, but you meant it. You dropped out because you had me.”
“I’m not gonna lie, getting pregnant with you at sixteen wasn’t ideal but I love you and if I had to go back and do it again, I wouldn’t change anything.”
Frowning, I watched as she removed a tube of bright red lipstick from her bag and smeared it over her lips.
“Why can’t Colin get off his lazy ass and get a job?” I spat.
“Michael, don’t talk about your Dad like that.” Mom sighed, looking tired as she dabbed at her mouth with a tissue, covering it in lipstick stains, each one slightly different like works of art, before dropping it in the trash.
“He’s not a Dad.” I informed her, “He’s a lazy waste of skin, rotting on our couch.”
“Michael this is his house.” Mom sighed, “Without him we’d be living on the streets.”
“I’d rather.” I grumbled.
“Mikey.” She whined turning to face me, “Let’s put a smile on the face.”
Crossing over to where I sat on the bed she drew an ear to ear smile on my face with the bright red lipstick.
“There.” She laughed when she was finished, “Much better.”
Looking up in the mirror I couldn’t stop the way my lips curved upwards into an amused smirk.
“There you go!” Mom cheered.
“I look like a freak.” I informed her, taking a tissue and wiping away the lipstick.
“Is that really so bad?” she asked.
I frowned.
“Everybody has a little bit of freak in them.” She informed me, “It’s the interesting people that let it show.”
Leaning forward she kissed me on the top of the head before pulling on her jacket.
“Watch out for Mason will you?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“I’ll see you later.” She sighed, “Be good and don’t piss off your Dad okay?”
“I’ll try.” I answered, “Be safe at work.”
Nodding she smiled before leaving the room. Following her I sat at the top of the stairs listening as she retrieved her keys and said goodbye to Mason and the unfortunate lump on the couch that was my father before leaving, the door closing behind her with a soft click that seemed to echo through the otherwise quiet house.
Making my way downstairs, trying to ignore the glare of the television coming from the dark living room, the pungent stench of cigar smoke, and the sound of some vulgar movie playing, I entered the kitchen where Mason was sitting reading a book.
