Post by Sabin / Madjinn on Apr 30, 2021 14:13:50 GMT
The mother stood in the doorway and saw the phone in his hand; she walked in and sat on the edge of the bed. She did not try to take away his phone, nor scold him for the urge to reach out to his father in hopes that he may secure passage back to the home he knew. The home he grew in. She knew there was nothing she could say to prevent him from doing what he intended, so she muttered one sentence to him.
“Give me the summer.” were the words that escaped her lips.
He held the phone in his hand with a finger over the dial button… he fought back the tears from the anger he felt toward the boys that picked on him, the anger he felt for being forced to relocate entirely. Not the home he frequented visits to before his mother remarried. Not the home with his father. A place unfamiliar.
The silence between mother and son was deafening, but time came and time went. Wraith put the phone down, which he could see made her smile; he was going to give this place… his mother… a proper chance.
“If you don’t love it here by the time school starts, I will tell your dad that you’ll go back with him until you decide,” she reassured him, “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
A simple nod from the boy sufficed. She patted his knee a few times before she stood up first, and went to find the first aid kit.
Later in the evening, the mother and stepfather were standing in the kitchen… Wraith had crept his way downstairs and peered from around the corner to overhear their conversation. The tone of the stepfather could make it clear that he was not happy with what had happened.
“We have to start training him,” he could hear his stepfather insisting to his mother.
“I know, I know…” she answered, “But he’s just. He’s--”
“He’s your baby,” the stepfather said, understanding what she was trying to say before she had to say it, “But you’re not always going to be there to protect him, and neither am I. He has to know how to defend himself.”
“Did you talk to the boys’ parents’?” Wraith heard the mother ask.
“I can’t do that…” the stepfather said, begrudgingly, “It’s only going to make things worse for him. These kids would view him not only as the new kid, but a coward, and a rat. He needs to be able to stand up for himself. He’s not always going to be your baby.”
There was a sudden silence between them… Wraith tried to peer further around the corner, and could see his mother leaning against the counter. What was she thinking? He couldn’t see her face; he couldn’t pick up on any subtleties that could tell him. He only knew what he was thinking. He knew that he wanted to learn better how to fight, and how to defend himself… but not only defend himself… the anger he felt, he wanted to punish those boys for their attack. He wanted to have revenge.
Wraith clenched his fist whilst still watching, and a slight creak as he shifted his weight gave away his position. The stepfather was the first to look in his direction, as he retreated behind the corner, followed by his mother turning around. Wraith hurried upstairs knowing that there was no way he could play it off. They knew he heard everything. Despite this knowledge, it didn’t stop him from trying… he slammed his door shut behind him, and threw himself onto his bed, before grabbing the controller to his console and feigning to play a game.
He could hear the steps ascending the staircase. With a gulp, he just tried to focus on the game in front of him to sell his innocence of eavesdropping.
“Give me the summer.” were the words that escaped her lips.
He held the phone in his hand with a finger over the dial button… he fought back the tears from the anger he felt toward the boys that picked on him, the anger he felt for being forced to relocate entirely. Not the home he frequented visits to before his mother remarried. Not the home with his father. A place unfamiliar.
The silence between mother and son was deafening, but time came and time went. Wraith put the phone down, which he could see made her smile; he was going to give this place… his mother… a proper chance.
“If you don’t love it here by the time school starts, I will tell your dad that you’ll go back with him until you decide,” she reassured him, “Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
A simple nod from the boy sufficed. She patted his knee a few times before she stood up first, and went to find the first aid kit.
Later in the evening, the mother and stepfather were standing in the kitchen… Wraith had crept his way downstairs and peered from around the corner to overhear their conversation. The tone of the stepfather could make it clear that he was not happy with what had happened.
“We have to start training him,” he could hear his stepfather insisting to his mother.
“I know, I know…” she answered, “But he’s just. He’s--”
“He’s your baby,” the stepfather said, understanding what she was trying to say before she had to say it, “But you’re not always going to be there to protect him, and neither am I. He has to know how to defend himself.”
“Did you talk to the boys’ parents’?” Wraith heard the mother ask.
“I can’t do that…” the stepfather said, begrudgingly, “It’s only going to make things worse for him. These kids would view him not only as the new kid, but a coward, and a rat. He needs to be able to stand up for himself. He’s not always going to be your baby.”
There was a sudden silence between them… Wraith tried to peer further around the corner, and could see his mother leaning against the counter. What was she thinking? He couldn’t see her face; he couldn’t pick up on any subtleties that could tell him. He only knew what he was thinking. He knew that he wanted to learn better how to fight, and how to defend himself… but not only defend himself… the anger he felt, he wanted to punish those boys for their attack. He wanted to have revenge.
Wraith clenched his fist whilst still watching, and a slight creak as he shifted his weight gave away his position. The stepfather was the first to look in his direction, as he retreated behind the corner, followed by his mother turning around. Wraith hurried upstairs knowing that there was no way he could play it off. They knew he heard everything. Despite this knowledge, it didn’t stop him from trying… he slammed his door shut behind him, and threw himself onto his bed, before grabbing the controller to his console and feigning to play a game.
He could hear the steps ascending the staircase. With a gulp, he just tried to focus on the game in front of him to sell his innocence of eavesdropping.
Well howdy there pardner.