Devotion To Crime

Prologue

The Saturday morning sun poured through the open window of the small bedroom. A light breeze drifted in and filled the room with the scent of fresh spring air. A halo of pale red hair spilled from underneath the white blanket that covered the bed. The clock next to the bed sprang to life as it struck 7:30. A hand reached out to shut the insufferable noise off.

"Well fuck," he flung the covers aside, swung his bare legs over the side of the bed and made his way to the adjacent bathroom. He peered into the mirror and stared. 

"What's gonna happen today?" he asked his reflection. His sunken hazel eyes revealed no answer. On his nightstand, the phone began to ring- and ring, and ring. Paul gave the device an exhausted look. "It's too damn early for this." He shuffled over to the night stand and picked up the phone. It was a missed call from his mother. He scoffed and set the phone back down, and pulled open a drawer for a pair of socks. He walked into his kitchen and started preparing coffee. While reaching for the can in the cupboard, his phone rang again. This time he went to answer it.

"What?" he breathed, walking back into the kitchen. 

"That is no way to talk to the woman who birthed you."

"Sorry. Hello mother dearest, how are you on this lovely morning?" he retorted with mock admiration, a smirk on his face.

"That's much better. I wanted to ask you about this one lady that I have found, she said she can take extra special-"

"Mom", he cut her off, "I'm not going to talk to you about putting dad in a shit hole nursing home so you can hang up now because I'm not fucking doing it." There was a quiet pause before his mother spoke again.

"Please don't curse at me. Can you at least talk to her?  I'll give you her number, call her later. You know how bad he's getting. I can't help him anymore. He doesn't even remember who I am." Paul heard the tears creeping into the edges of her voice.

"Mom,  It's too damn early for this right now." He was starting to get frustrated.

"It's only 7:30. Whatever. Just- just call me back." And she hung up. 

"God damn it!" He yelled and threw the phone down on the counter top, bursting open. He was tired of his mother trying to get rid of his father. He's only 64, but he did have Alzheimer's. He wasn't getting much better and every day was a struggle for his mom. He felt bad for her but he also didn't care. Since she left him with his father for the majority of his childhood, he didn't feel any obligation to helping her, because she was never there to help him. 

He sighed deeply and went back to making his coffee. He already knew today wasn't going to go well.