Hey guys. I'm sorry this is so long. I don't even know where it came from. It wasn't planned. Just a trigger warning...this story does deal with abuse. But I do hope you enjoy it. If you have ever been a victim of any kind of abuse, I just want you to know that you are so strong and so brave. No one deserves to be abused. You can get out. There are people that care about you. <3
"This is it, Rocco. Home, sweet home."
My dog cocked his head as I spoke to him and looked up at the two story Colonial style house through my car window. I hadn't been here in years. Mom still had the exact same flowers planted in her flower bed as she had last time I'd been here. 10 years ago. When I had gotten married.
Married at the ripe age of 18 to my high school sweetheart, Darren. Here I was 10 years later, no farther along in life, a divorce behind me, and nothing to look ahead to. I was moving back in with my parents.
"We are living the life, huh boy? Moving back in with my parents at 28 years old." He stared at me for a moment before whining and laying his head in my lap. I scrubbed his ears and sighed. "It'll be alright, boy. Don't worry."
"Shayne? Is that you?" The bright red door swung open and my mom's perfect blonde hair came into view. The typical Southern Belle. She looked the part 24/7. From the highlights she had touched up every 3 weeks to the pristine French tips on her fingers. Hell, she was even wearing pearls and heels.
"It's me, ma." I call back. I give Rocco one last pat. His blue eyes stare up at me, asking questions that I couldn't answer right now. "C'mon boy, let's go say hi to momma."
"Child, you look affright." Mom said, embracing me then pulling back to look me over.
"Thanks, ma." I run a hand through my frazzled blonde ponytail and tug at my oversized t-shirt.
"Oh, you know what I mean." She chides. "You've lost weight."
I shrivel up inside. I'd be glad when the critique ended. I didn't expect less from mom. Especially since I hadn't seen her in so long, aside from Skype.
"Who is this handsome fella?" Mom asks as she leans down to give my Husky a rub.
"That's Rocco." I answer. She is enamored with him and has all but ignored me to play with my dog. She is an amusing sight in her skirt and heels squatting down to pet my giant Husky.
I pull a couple of bags out of the trunk of my old Honda and shuffle back up the walkway to my boy and my mom.
"I'll have your daddy come get the rest." Mom says as we amble up the porch with its white columns and hanging baskets of flowers and ivy.
"It's okay." I say and she scoffs. "Really, momma. It's okay. This is all I have anyway."
Her mouth drops open when she looks at the two old cases in my hand.
"There is one more bag but it's got all of Roc's toys and blankets in it."
She begins to speak then thinks better of it and just shakes her head and opens the door into the spacious foyer.
"I'll get you a sandwich. Go put your stuff up in your room."
I nod and click my tongue, telling Rocco to follow me. We take the steps carefully. I'm slow and clumsy and Rocco hasn't ever moved very fast because of it. Aside from when he would see the neighbor's cat. That was a completely different animal.
My old room is just the same as it was when I left 10 years ago. My Nsync posters still litter the walls, the zebra comforter and matching curtains make me cringe. I had some major redecorating to do.
