Georgie stared out the window of his apartment that he lived in with his mom. They could not afford much since his dad had left them with almost nothing. It was a shabby place, with dust mites lying around in the corners and few pieces of furniture. The kitchen was stocked with mostly bottles of vodka, gin, and beer. There was only a single loaf of bread and single jars of peanut butter and jelly. Mice could be found rummaging around at night if you had decided upon a midnight snack.
Climbing down from where he had sat on the windowsill, Georgie had to be careful. Sometimes his mother would "accidentally" break beer bottles and not bother to clean it up. Now Georgie was a tiny thing, being only five and all. He had wispy, blonde-white hair and the brightest blue eyes you've ever seen. Georgie was a curious little boy, always wondering about the world.
He was also smart enough to know to stay out of his mother's way when she had a bottle in her hand. Georgie made sure to wear socks around the house too, so he could sneak around without waking her. Georgie was brave, but he feared his mother when she was drinking, which was often. To fear someone is sometimes natural, but to feel fear when your mother is near, that is not right. In fact fearing people is not right in general. What makes us so afraid of facing our fears? Life does supposedly, along with rejection, abandonment, and so many more. Georgie had been rejected and neglected by his mother. It was a sad thing, for someone to not give love to his or her child.
In his blue sock and yellow one, he crept towards the kitchen being sure to step over the floorboard that squeaked. Georgie was not sure where his mother was now. She was either at home passed out, drinking, or out collecting men to bring home later. In his navy button down, and light brown corduroy pants, Georgie made his way to the fridge. He opened it and reached for the peanut butter and jelly jars, along with the loaf of bread.
His mother had at least had some sense when she placed the jars and bread on the first shelf. It was convenient for him to reach it easily, without worrying about dropping anything. Georgie was not sure how to spread the jelly or peanut butter with a knife. He had to resort to using his fingers to spread the jelly and peanut butter.
He set the bread, peanut butter, and jelly on his little plastic table. The table stood next to one of the counters in the kitchen, while a much taller table was farther away. Georgie sat in his little, plastic blue stool and opened the bread loaf. Just then, the apartment door opened. Georgie's eyes widened in shock, assuming it was his mother and ran into his room. His room was about 12 feet from the apartment door and had red walls, was a small cot in one corner. There was a small toy chest on the opposite side, containing a few shirts, pants, and pajamas.
Floating above the miniature cot was a red ball. Georgie had christened the ball. with the name, Red. He had once been given a red balloon when their family was still a family and having the red ball made up for the lack of a red balloon. Hearing voices in the kitchen, he ran to the cot and grabbed Red. The door was slightly open: giving way to the argument that could be heard from the kitchen.
"Don't touch my fucking stuff! I asked you to come home with me so we could hook up, not for you to strut around like you own the place!" He heard his mom scream. "Stupid bitch! It's eleven at night and I want some goddamned food! I don't really give two shits if it's your stuff or not. Besides, what's with the peanut butter, jelly, and the bread? Is this all you fucking eat in this house?" The strange man yelled.
"That's because I have a retarded son! The son of a bitch is only five what do you expect?! I should go and discipline him and then we can get on with this." His mother replied.
Georgie cowered in fear, bringing Red closer to him. He was afraid his mother would come back to his room and beat him. Tears trickled down his face, as he prayed to live to the next day.
A/N: The song above is one that I felt met the emotions in this chapter. Plus Eminem is an amazing artist. I feel like Georgie is described in the song though, because even though his mom hurts him, he still loves her. So yeah.....enjoy the book! Votes/Comments/Sharing is always appreciated💭
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The Little Boy Who Had Hope and a Red Balloon
Teen FictionGeorgie is a five year old boy, who is turning six soon. He lives with his mother in a shabby apartment, over in downtown Brooklyn. His mother is an alcoholic dealing with her husband's desertion. Georgie keeps his ball Red in his hands every day. S...
