Red On Leather

I'm honestly ready to give up. I feel like every lead and opportunity takes me to a dead end, and it just wears me down everyday that I have to deal with it. 

Mom's been keeping me up at night, well, her and the stuffy motel room. Money's tight, and things couldn't be harder for us. I'll be eighteen by the end of the month, and I'm still living with my mother as we move from motel room to motel room. I'm lucky I managed to gather enough money so that I can keep us in a motel for two weeks at least. 

I hate to move my mother around much, her mental and physical state deteriorating everyday. She can barely walk, and she's just skin and bones, really. She sometimes doesn't know who I am, and she tries to attack me. At those points, I try to reassure her that I'm her daughter and that she's safe with me. 

She sleeps more than anything, and I worry about the day where she doesn't wake up. What would I do then? I think that it might be a relief that her suffering is over and that a burden would be lifted off my shoulders. But, then, all I have is pocket cash and dirty motel rooms. Dad's been long gone, I can't remember what he looks like or his voice. 

Not that it matters, anyway. 

"Lilith..." Mom mutters, pulling me out of my inner monologue and back into the motel room. I'm sitting on the chair, looking down at my shoes and the gray carpet under them. At her voice, I glance up to see her looking at me. Her face is shining with sweat and she looks like she's in pain. Her once long and silky brown hair is now matted and stringy, thin.

I quickly stand and walk to her bedside, sitting down on her bed as I place a hand on her leg. 

"Where are we?" she asks me, looking at me through heavy eyelids. 

"A motel room, we're staying here for a while. You walked in here complaining about the paint smell, remember?" I ask softly, my mother looking at me as if I had just grown a second head. 

"I don't...it's so hot in here." she whispers, closing her eyes. I walk over to the window, lifting up and letting the breeze into the room. I could hear the cars passing by and the sound of the city. I glance back at my mother, who has passed out again. I frown, quickly striding over to the bed as I feel my heart start to race. I place to fingers on her neck, the world seeming to freeze around me as I feel the light thumps against the skin of my fingers. 

It's steady, well, for her, anyway. I sigh, pulling my hand away and I smile to myself for being worried about that. She was talking a few seconds ago, she should be fine. I took a seat back down on the chair, tapping my fingers on the arm rest as I glanced towards the small TV on the dresser. I stood, taking the small remote control and pressed the power button. I sat down in the chair again as the TV flickered to life again. I glanced back at my mother again before I started to flick through the channels to find something to pass the time.

I had lost myself for two hours in the drama and hardships of the people on Steve Wilkos that I had lost track of time. It was now noon, and my mother still hadn't woken up. I sighed, glancing back at her as she still slept in the bed, her chest rising and falling shallowly. I stood, deciding that it would be okay to go out for a half an hour to see if I could find some sort of employment in this town. 

Switching off the television, and walked out into the street as I started my search. There were an odd number of bars in this town that I couldn't really see myself working in. I hated bars, just the thought of having to be around people made me want to cringe. The drunkards making passes at random girls at the bar, even the odd guy, and I just prefer to stay away from things like that. Not that I would be able to get hired there anyway.

I turn down a street, not many people walking down the street. It was hot, very hot. I could feel a ring of sweat forming around my neck as I stuck my hands in the front of my jeans. I look in the windows of the shops at the items that are in view. 

A bookstore. Dollar store. Antiques.

A man walks out of the front of the store, calling back at a man with a smile on his face. He was tall, brown hair cut down short and choppy with a pair of green eyes that seemed to sparkle with amusement and contentedness. I watched as he turned his back, and my eyes ran down his back side, studying him. I was about to chastise myself about checking out some random guy on the street when something caught my eye. 

A wallet slightly sticking out of the back pocket of his jeans. It looked to be far enough out that I could walk up and just pluck it out of his pocket with ease. It was fat, too. With bills and maybe a few credit cards. Suddenly, pick-pocketing this man didn't seem like such a bad idea.

I shouldn't. I told myself, as I was still walking behind the man. I could pick up my paces a few steps, then reach out and...

No, you wanted to work for that money, remember? I paused, but, mom really needs to be in a hospital and that man could help get me started on getting enough money for her stay and treatment. 

Ignoring the voice in the back of my head telling me that stealing was wrong, I told myself that I was doing it for my mother and myself as I quickened my pace. My heart was hammering in my chest and I was getting the biggest rush of my life. Stealing from this man would be the start to a really great thing. At least, that's what I told myself.

My hand reached out, gently gripping onto the leather of the wallet and started to lift it up and out of the pocket. 

A hand clamped down on my wrist, squeezing tight. I jumped back, looking up at the man that was now turned semi-towards me with a deadly look in his eye. I stared up at him, at a loss for words as I let go of the wallet, the object falling to the sidewalk under my feet. I didn't know why, but looking at that man made me think about what it would be like to stare death in the face.

"What do you think you are doing?" He growled at me through clenched teeth.