I got released at like 11:30 yesterday.
All throughout the day yesterday Bebe was Going in and out of my room to God knows where. I tried getting a explanation from her about all that hair from the brush but she refused to explain.
When the doctor gave me the ok and sent me off Mom walked me into the car but she didn't start it immediately. We just sort of sat there in the dark and listened to the pounding of the rain on the hood of the car.
Finally she spoke.
"He's not coming back" she said almost in a whisper. Though I figured that out it took all of my strength to keep me from saying something smart.
She went on "I don't know how I'm going to raise this child and keep you in school by myself"
I turned to her, "What did he mean when he said the kid wasn't his problem"
She inhaled sharply and started crying. She looked like a teenage girl from my perspective.
Mom was so skinny (it was sick). She was slouched over in her seat. I doubt she had Eaten anything from when dad left. She had heavy bags around her eyes. Her short black hair was messy and thinning out.
"The kid might not be his"
I already had a feeling to be honest but just hearing her say it made my heart drop down to my stomach.
"Who's is it"? was all I could utter.
Mom was silent while she started the car.
To this day she still hasn't answered my question.
YOU ARE READING
Wendy's Drawing Book
Short StoryShit The word I used a lot during the years of 2011-2013 I was told to keep all my thoughts in a broken down notebook some whore found in the back of her closet or whatever. I was forced into accepting.......his suggestion of doing this shit. He t...
