You're Gonna Miss Me When I'm Gone

Can I

Enzo woke up feeling much less than adequate. The sun was setting off in the distance. The reds, pinks, oranges, and purples mixed off in the distance. Enzo rolled over to the edge of the bed and swung his socked feet towards the ground. His throat was dry, but he was reluctant to go downstairs. He knew his body didn't have the energy to do any fighting. Maybe he could run off to a friends house. Just for a night. He decided against because the thought of walking made his legs ache and burn. He reached over and grabbed the gauze. After stripping off his pants and exposing his lower half, he unwrapped the bandages to check the damage. The skin was a dull matte brown color that felt sticky and moist to the touch. He winced at the touch of the flesh. He pulled out a long strip of the gauze and tightly re wrapped his legs, while making a mental note to only destroy one leg at a time. The pain was numbing, but still stung. Enzo put his joggers back on and determined that he would go get water downstairs regardless of who was sitting down there. He swiftly crept down the stairs being careful not to knock over any of his mother's expensive vases or ugly family pictures. The teen hated pictures in general, but he hated family pictures with a burning passion. He stopped on one of the steps and stared at a picture that was taken about a year ago. In the picture him and all his siblings wore shades of red and black cargo shorts, while his parents wore red pants and black shirts. He remembered telling his mom that they all looked ridiculous and that he refused to take the picture, but his om threatened him with punishment and an ass-whooping that he "would feel all the way until next year." But what angered Enzo the most was that he knew everyone in the picture was lying. No one in his family was happy. All these smiles in this picture had been a lie. He sighed, setting the picture back down on the table and was about to continue his creep down the stairs when he felt a pair of eyes watching him. "Fuck", Enzo mumbled and rolled his eyes. "Watch your language sir!" his mother said with frustration in her voice. Her arms were crossed over her puffed out chest and she wore an angry face, yet her eyes were still soft like always. She loved her son, she really did, but she didn't like what he was turning into. His personality had shifted so dramatically over the past few years, and they both know it.

"Come sit down." His mom said pointing to the bar stool that sat facing the kitchen window offering a perfect view of the fading colored sky. Her voice left no room for negotiation. Enzo tentatively walked towards the stool his mother still pointed to. She nodded and walked towards the fridge. She flung open the large black door and pulled out two bottles of Figi water before closing the door with her foot. She slid one down the counter for Enzo. The boy greedily grabbed hold of the bottle feeling the chill it sent up his arm. With a click of the cap he began to guzzle half of the water,dropping the bottle back onto the counter spilling the content of the bottle,yet all this done with a content sigh. His mother just stared while her unopened bottle began to collect condensation. She walked to the stool on at the far end of the counter, leaving two stools in-between these two empty souls. Enzo nervously stared back at her not allowing his feeling of nervousness to slip through this mask of a face that he was currently wearing.

His mother coughed before speaking. "So you spit on my car?" She said it in a tone that would make anyone think that she was asking if this was true as they both knew it was. Enzo said nothing, allowing no emotion to break through. She sighed. "Enzo! Just talk to me! I don't know what you want from me anymore! I just do not know what to say!" His mom was struggling to make coherent sentences. "Why are you so angry with me, with your family, with the world? Huh? Tell me!" His mom screamed the last part at the top of her lungs. "Enzo flinched at this last part. He had never seen this happen before and he was actually quite terrified. He looked over at his mom who had her eyes closed, trying to recompose herself. The air was still, suffocating almost. Enzo knew he had nowhere to go and that he would have to speak up eventually. His mother cut through the air and grabbed Enzo by the wrists. "I need you to talk to me." She said. "You're not leaving this chair until you speak and I know you can't stay mute forever, so start when you want." Her eyes were sorrow filled and genuine. She just wanted to help.

Enzo sighed and said nothing. He sat in that same chair for the next two hours watching the sun set and the clouds speed through the night sky. The occupied himself by counting the stars, looking for constellations, observing the cleanly painted brown walls of the house. His mom sat and stared at him, her arms folded over her bosom. The stove timer beeped; an indication that the clock had struck 10. Enzo's mom stood up flabbergasted. She stumbled over words to say but decided on, "give me your phone, your laptop, and your iPod. Now!" The dark haired teen stared at her in shock, but when he realized she was serious he stared at her and matched her stern expression and replied "okay." The now angry teen tossed his phone onto the counter along with his iPod. He left his chair and made the torturous ascend up the stairs before shouting out "Have fun! It's all just porn!" The elder lady screamed uninterperateable words while Enzo just laughed and shut the door to his room making sure to lock it so his mom didn't threaten to call the police or something else on the same severity scale.

The thought of fleeing the house became more appealing every second up until the moment that Enzo had finished packing his bag. He put on his favorite maroon jacket and a pair of joggers. He waited on his bed and contemplated leaving. The time was 11:48 and he knew his mom would be sleep. He opened his door to find all the lights except for the stair landing lights were off. He made his descend down the stairs and found his mom sleep on the couch with a glass of red wine in her hand. Enzo walked over to his mom and snatched the remaining bottle of alcohol before exiting through the back door. That door had no alarm and because of this wouldn't make the beeping noise when the other doors were opened. The wind was brisk and Enzo popped the hood up and jammed his hands in his pockets, hunching his back to conserve his energy. He began his walk to the only person he knew he could trust.