Her eyes

Chapter 6

By the time I'd gotten home and into my meager apartment, it was 5 pm, I had spent about 2 hours at the cafe with Archer. And he'd told me stories about the mischief he got into when he was in high school.

Like that one time he and his friends got chased by the janitor for throwing wet paper balls at each other. He also told me about his mother Alice and how she would grab him by the ear and drag him away when he got in trouble.

And about his father that was very serious and would make everything into a life lesson. And about how little Kimberly would force him to watch My Little Pony for hours, and put his hair into ponytails. And he would endure the torture just for her. I could tell how much he loved his family from the way he spoke of them.

A normal person would've probably also shared small anecdotes about their family and upbringing. But I wasn't a normal person, with a normal family.

So I had decided not to tell him anything about them, and simply pretend that they didn't exist.

Maybe by doing so, I was hoping to fool both of us into pretending that I had been made in a lab by a team of scientists. But I highly doubt he was fooled. I could only pretend such outrageous things only in my head. Thankfully he didn't ask much but I could tell that by not disclosing anything he'd probably think I was suspect.

I already had a practiced story just in case, if people asked. But they rarely ever did. My made up story consisted of only a aloof mother, a older brother that I rarely talked to. And a father I'd never met.

It wasn't far from the truth. Sadly enough.

My parents had met whilst my father was in his mid thirties, visiting London from Nigeria. My mother was 18 and working as a waitress, they hit it off instantly. My mother was flattered that an older man was paying her attention.

One thing led to another and three weeks later they had signed the marriage papers. They decided to move to Jaywick, which at the time was booming because of the holiday season.

Soon after that my father went back to his country however he did stay in contact with my mother. Giving her pretty words and promises which she believed. During that time she found out that she was pregnant with my older brother.

After a few years of the town being in a rapid decline of no tourism. Being a waitress in a town with no revenues, and where most of the population were too poor to even visit a broken down restaurant money became sparse.

But she had hoped that my father could save her from a life in poverty. That being married would save her. Unfortunately that was not the case.

My father visited us again after 5 years. To tell my mother that he had gotten married, and had a new family in the town where he came from.

She was heartbroken, while she had been waiting faithfully for him during those years raising his son. He had not only gotten another woman pregnant but he had also married her.

So, she did the only thing she knew how to do. She offered him her body. And when he had accepted it he breathed new hope into her. And also a new child. When he left again and sent the divorce papers a few months later her heart was shattered.

During my childhood my mother had brought home several strange men, and relied on them to save her from whatever it was she needed saving from at the time. Usually from being sober.

After I was born she had turned to alcohol, and after that came the drugs. She had her moments when the mother I knew she could be, somewhere deep inside of her shined through. But most of the time she was busy planning on how to get drugs, get high or overdosing.

My brother Leo had practically raised me, he did his best as a 5 year old heating up baby formula for me and changing my diapers on the floor. He'd told me several times that I was a nice baby, even if I'd laid in my soiled diaper for hours I only fussed a little, as if I came out of the womb knowing there was a dragon around. And if I cried out the dragon would eat me.

We both left our mother to her own devices, even if we didn't know what was wrong. We knew she wasn't a normal person. She had periods where she would sit on the sofa and mutter to herself from sunup to sundown. Usually followed by days where she would scream and shout and destroy everything in the house. Those were the times Leo told me I was the most silent.

After those episodes she would spend her time laying lethargic and depressed staring at walls for hours, completely silent.

When I'd started school Leo would hold my hand the whole way and tell me not to worry and that everyone in my class would love me. Unfortunately that was not the case.

I was relentlessly bullied by the other kids, every little detail about me would be put under a microscope and turned into insults that would add another cut to my sensitive heart. I never told Leo what was going on at school, because I felt bad for him. He had to take care of me, and sometimes our mother when she overdosed, her pulse low and vomit covering her.

Even as a child I already felt like an inconvenience. I knew he had a lot of responsibilities, and he was only 5 years older than me. I figured if I stayed quiet and did everything he said I would be less of a burden.

By the time the last day of elementary school rolled around, all the kids were happy they were going on summer break. But I didn't feel happy. Actually, I didn't feel much of anything. My bloody heart was an empty, sliced up hunk of meet that I was doomed to lug around for the rest of my life.