✝ Seventeen Years Ago ✝
"Should it be Fool or Foul?" Jamie Anderson spat, a delighted giggle escaping her cherry colored lips. Equally red hair framed her face in fiery strands as orange sprouted in bright highlights. A three week old boy was held carelessly in her arms, mere inches from slipping out of her grasp and to the hard tile floor.
"Why don't we use both? Switch the o and u up from time to time," her husband, Robert, slurred and giggled nearly as shrilly as Jamie. Brown hair danced across his forehead and threatened to slip into his pale green eyes as he tried to take a step forward. Beer sloshed out of his plastic cup and splattered across the powder blue baby blanket as Rob tripped over a cord.
No-name, as they called him, stared at the sticky substance before opening his mouth to let loose a high pitched wail. The two careless parents threw back their heads and laughed as the baby squealed, his little hands balled into fists.
"Underage drinking already? Naughty boy!" Jamie sneered as No-name's pink tongue shot out, trying to clear up his alcohol soaked lips. She flicked the boy's tongue harshly, a giggle bubbling up in her throat as her son started bawling again.
Robert went into a fit of laughter, snaking his hand out to grip the edge of a table for support. His blurry gaze was on No-name, a stupid mistake that neither of them had wanted. No abortion clinic would take them, seeing how Jamie's mother had gone in advance and payed them all to refuse. Stupid rich people. Stupid babies.
Twenty four and living a party life, Jamie and Rob wanted nothing to do with kids. They were little vermin from Hell, for all they cared. So now three weeks later after that dreadful day, they were drunk after a party and finally choosing a name for their monster.
"I like.. Umm.. Ergg.. Foo'!" Robert exclaimed with another laughter attack, completely forgetting about his earlier suggestion. He simply couldn't stop laughing, and soon his wife was cracking up too. She managed to drop the newly named Fool twice, and they were only spurred on by his crying.
When eleven thirty rolled around, the tipsy couple scrambled up the stairs and carelessly tossed the still screaming child into his wooden crib, which had been a gift from Jamie's mother. Jamie let out a harsh "Goodnight, Fool!" before slamming the bedroom door shut.
Fool Anderson bawled all night and most of the next morning, his parents' lives having been stolen by a drunken car accident. He wiggled and thrashing in his crib, tears leaking down his small, pinched face as he screamed for food.
It wasn't until a day after the crash that the police arrived and found the bawling child, half starved and near death himself.
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✞ cяσss мy нεαят ✞
Teen FictionFool "Devyn" Anderson has the looks, the charm, and the money. His grandmother dotes on him and treats him like royalty, and he gets straight A's with ease. His life is sweet. Ha-ha, not. While his life seems perfect on the outside, inside is a dari...
