The Slightest Hope

Chapter 1

ROSE'S POV Drew sat at the table, staring at me with impatience as I burned our breakfast. Blueberry pancakes, his favorite. He slapped his thighs in an unrhythmic pattern as he kicked his heels against the legs of the chair. It was an annoying habit of Drew's, but I knew better than to yell at him. His self esteem had been low since he started school again. Drew's mental disabilities cause kids to tease him, push him, and even beat him up. What kind of heartless monsters wandered in this generation? A special education child can't walk outside without being called a 'fucking idiot', 'retard', or a 'disgrace'. He pretended to be strong but in the end, I was always holding him tightly when he cried at night, tears escaping from my eyes as well.  Another stampede of thigh slaps brought me back to my attention. The pancake I had been cooking was now a blackened rock and I immediately dumped it into the trash. More slaps. I grew irritable but quickly finished cooking the rest of the batter and set a plate in front of Drew.  He quickly dug in, dumping a river of syrup onto the steaming pancake.  "Thank you." He stammered through a mouthful of food. It was a gross sight, but I laughed anyways.   I took a bite of the hot breakfast, burning my tongue instantly. I scraped the burning food from my mouth and into my napkin.  "God damn!" I cried in pain. The taste buds on my tongue had no feeling left and I couldn't taste my pancakes anymore.  "God damn." Drew repeated. He giggled, comprehending my vulgar language.  "Don't say that." I scolded, lightly swatting his hand. Drew simply nodded and I was glad he was so understanding. I had seen many special education kids at his school throw screaming tantrums when they didn't get their way. It was quite a sight. Sometimes, the adult would receive a slap from the child and it wasn't uncommon to see crying parents in the hallways, feeling unable to control their offsetting any longer. I sympathized them.  Drew had never hurt me or made me cry. Actually, on several occasions, he was quite protective of me. He would baffle people with his vocabulary while he stuck up for me.   "Plate?" He asked, reaching a chubby hand for the full glassware in front of me. I nodded, knowing I was already running late for work.  The clock read 8:15 am. I was supposed to have left ten minutes ago. Great. I shuffled on my peacoat over my dress. It was supposed to be windy today and it was a long walk to my office.   The office was for a magazine company. I had no part in the actual company, however. I was just the secretary to them. Actually, to them, I was less than that. When workers came in the door, I would offer them a smile and in return they would toss their wet coats onto my lap and hurry away without a formal greeting.  I slid my heels on and planted a kiss on Drew's cheek.  "Are you sure you're okay by yourself?" I asked hesitantly. This was the first time I had left Drew alone since the accident and I was concerned for how he would cooperate. Drew was seventeen now and could handle himself well, but that doesn't take away from the fact that he is still mentally handicapped.  "Yes, I promise. Love you." He replied before handing me my purse.  "Love you too!" I called as he hobbled away. Drew was born with one leg longer than the other, another things for the kids to laugh at. I sighed a sympathetic sigh before heading out the door and into the busy New York streets.