No Time For Distractions

one

** Terrell **

"Terrell, how much money you got on you, baby?"

I glanced up from my dinner of beef Ramen and Saltines to find my work-weary mother hovering just inside the doorway to my dim bedroom. I could tell it had been another trying day at the hospital by the way she leaned most of her weight against the door, as if she couldn't possibly keep herself up any longer, one weathered hand wrapped tightly around the knob with the other tiredly dragging down the side of her face.

She worked as a nursing assistant at the local hospital, day after day of tending to the helpless taking a toll on her energy and overall liveliness. It was the best job she could get though, taking into consideration her minimal education. And it wasn't a bad job; she loved caring for others, and with her only child about to graduate in less than a year, her job was perfect for her.

The only problem was how much money came in from said job.

Or rather, how little.

My mother worked and worked and worked and still barely got paid enough to support the two of us. She'd managed to pay the bills in our small home every time she got her check, thankfully, with only just enough left over for need-based grocery runs: generic brand pop-tarts for the mornings, packs of Ramen - beef, of course - for quick meals, cheese and bread for the days when noodles just wouldn't cut it, the occasional snack food and bag of chicken drumsticks. If we were lucky, she'd have extra for some Kool-Aid packets and maybe even some fruit. Of course I'm leaving out the basic things that last a while - rice, sugar, tuna, etc; but you get the idea.

Once I was old enough, I ventured out in search of a part-time job at a fast food place so I could help Momma out. At first, she'd refuse to take my "hard-earned cash," telling me to go buy myself something nice with it. She eventually gave in after I just took it upon myself to start buying food and the bare necessities for us anyway.

Momma never liked having to depend on anyone, especially a man. She said the last time she depended on a man, he left her high and dry to raise a unborn baby on her own, never to be seen again. She had to put a pause on her life to raise me, dropping out of college to find a job that would pay the rent and keep us alive. I couldn't help but think it was my fault she had to give up her life, my fault my dad skipped out before I was even born, my fault we had to live the kind of life we were living. I hinted at these feelings one day when I was a bit younger, and she sternly said to me, "Honey, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I chose to stop going to my classes so that I could raise you to be a better man than your father could ever even try to be. Nothing is your fault. I love you, sweet pea. Now, help me get these groceries out of the car."

She's the reason I strived to be a star student and outstanding track runner. I desperately needed a scholarship so I could go to college, not only for myself but for her as well. She didn't get the chance to finish her higher education, but if I do, I'm going all the way.

This is the reason I was still up nearing 1 a.m. the night before the first day of my last year in high school, finishing up my summer reading assignment. I was so busy with track and work that I didn't get that much time to work on it during the actual summer break. But I was re-energizing my mind and body with noodles and Kool-Aid, determined to finish the last few pages before I retired for the night.

"Uh, yeah, I have a few dollars. How much you need? I don't get paid again 'til Thursday," I replied, stretching across my small bed to yank my wallet from the pocket of the jeans I had on earlier. I flipped it open and pulled out a small roll of cash, unfolding it and counting out about $37.

"I just need to put some gas in the car so I can make it to work in the morning."

"Oh, okay," I handed over a wrinkled $20 bill before stuffing the rest back into my wallet, throwing the leather encasement onto my nightstand and looking up to take in the pure exhaustion in my mother's eyes. "Ma, you alright?"

"Yeah, honey, I'm fine. Don't worry 'bout me. And don't stay up too late tonight. Gotta make sure you rest up for tomorrow. G'night, honey bun," she spoke softly, lightly tapping the doorframe before retreating back to her room.

I watched her shuffle down the hall into her bedroom and shut the door before looking back down at the old laptop resting on my pillow. It was the same one my mom used while she was in school, and it surprisingly still worked well enough for me to complete my school assignments. Heaving a sigh, I picked the thing up and continued typing up my annotations.

About a half an hour later, I was emailing my finished assignment to myself so I could print it out at the library in the morning. Clearing off my bed and then making my way to the bathroom, I took care of my business before finally slipping into the comfort of my sheets, drifting into unconsciousness moments later.

******
Sooooooo that's your first look into Terrell's life! Any questions, feel free to ask. I'm really excited to see where this story goes. :)