𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐈𝐒𝐇// 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐗𝐎𝐂

𝐱𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐯. ✭ 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍

OCTOBER, 1978; EDDIE

"Three detentions, a shit ton of reports of you disrupting class, and we get your progress report today and it says that you got a C in Ms. Sherman's class." Uncle Wayne rubbed his scalp out of frustration as he asked. "What's going on Ed's? Talk to me. You never used to act like this before. Not when-"

"Do we have to do this today?" I grumbled, tugging on the sleeves of my hoodie. "It's my birthday. Can't you just let me be happy for once? I don't wanna talk."

Why can't he ever just
leave me alone?

"You're not happy?" His face fell at the words that fell so freely from my lips. Uncle Wayne looked as if I had kicked him in the gut. I was being too much of a pissant kid to care.

"Yeah, obviously. I'm not happy." My tone bit at him sharply, like teeth digging into my uncle's body. He was who raised me and I was treating him like shit. "Are you stupid or something?"

"Eddie..." Wayne pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing in pain. "Stop. Stop it."

A fire flickered in the root of my stomach, flames licking my insides. It was juvenile anger that fueled me. What I thought I felt was anger. It wasn't. I was hurt. I had been abandoned. The feeling of agony translated over to fury in my childish mushy brain.

Hit me.
Just hit me.
Just hit me once.
Once is all I'm asking.
Lose your temper.
Throw things.
Burn your cigarettes into my skin.
Be like Dad.
Make me bleed.
Yell.
Explode.

"Or are you dumb?" The phrase came out harshly, swelling from the back of my throat. "I'm never happy, ever. I hate it here." My insides fizzled like a Fourth Of July sparkler, burning everything up. I let my voice rise. A strange sort of relief melted from my tense body. "I hate it here. I hate this place. I hate this stupid trailer park. I hate having nothing. I hate it." Tears rimmed my eyes, collecting as I continued. "I hate her. I hate her so much. I hate Chance."

"Eddie, you don't hate her." My uncle shook his head, his eyes looking dismal as he spoke. "Munson men got bad luck with women. You just hate that she left you. "

"I do hate her...and I hate you!" The ugly phrase leapt from my mouth, stinging Uncle Wayne as they came to fruition. My own words shocked me. I could feel my eyes widening as his face grew red.

Here it comes.
Hit me.
Get angry.

A melancholic frown pressed into his face. Sadness had won, rage had lost. I had only succeeded in hurting him, not provoking him like how I wanted to.

"You hate me?" He asked calmly, his gaze iced over. I stilled, not daring to speak. "Well happy birthday, Eds." Uncle Wayne pushed himself out of his seat in the kitchen, heading toward his bedroom. A moment later, he emerged with the guitar. My heart soared, twanging when I realized what I had said. Guilt thickened in my throat. "Hate me or not, here ya go." He shoved my present into my hands, a wounded look crinkling up his face. "This is why I've been picking up all those extra shifts. Go ahead, hate me, but that ain't gonna make her come back. All those letters you've been writing ain't gonna make her come back either. Get used to it, Kid. She's gone."

Uncle Wayne left the trailer. I could hear his truck starting up as my fingers traced over my glossy new guitar. It was beautiful. I had been dreaming of it for forever and now here it was. A twenty four fret, supercharged, NJ Warlock. Made in fucking Japan.