Positively Negative [Rewrite]

Nov09: Three Little Birds, Don't Worry

"Mum, I did something really bad."

I couldn't reply, of course, when she asked me what it had been. I'd simply shaken my head so many times that I swear I saw snow flakes floating about my room, though they melted upon coming into contact with any part of it. Incompatible with reality. She didn't seem so worried as she stood, re-wrapping her dressing gown again she'd lost the string to tie it closed, but she was unwilling to thrown it out; it had been a present from dad. "Come tell me over breakfast."

I shrugged my shoulders. The problem was, my mum had no idea who I was outside of my house. I wasn't who I was with her with Ryan, or anyone. I didn't particularly want her to know how I'd acted. Though... I eyed my mum's placating expression.

"Didn't they tell you what happened?"

"That you said horrible things to a guy after he punched you up in a citizenship lesson. You took his bag to warrant his anger, apparently. That's what he said." I frowned. "Of course, I don't plan on just believing anything without consulting you about it." She settled back on the edge of my bed. "Care to let me in?"

"I just," I murmured, "I did something bad." And, after a heavy sigh, I let it out in the end. From the beginning, from being assigned his partner, my attitude to that fact, to the common room Dahmer incident and Freddie's reaction. My inner battle, surrendering to my cowardice and the decision to give him his bag. Then, finally, the fight, my comment—which I could not regret more—and Ryan's call to me last night.

Mum sat for a while, eyes roaming about me and seeing something, apparently, that I wished I could see. And when she spoke, I could not have been more surprised.

"I'm proud of you."

"What?"

"I'm proud of you." She grabbed onto my hands. "I'm a little mad at you, but you need to take it easy on yourself, Joe. I don't want you to ever say things like you did to that guy again, but can't you see that you aren't like your supposed friends? You were trying to make amends, Joey."

"Yeah, and then ended with the fucked insult."

"And that was stupid," mum agreed with a firm nod, "But you're going to apologise, right?"

"If he doesn't crack my head open first."

Mum smoothed her hands through my hair and smiled. "Even if he does." She grabbed me by the jaw and lifted, face contorted into a mock angry scowl. "You're going to have to grovel at his feet."

I laughed and pulled myself from her grasp. "Mum-"

"Joseph Martin Hartman." She smiled briefly before her eyes grew serious. "Can you promise me something?"

"Yeah. Anything."

"Keep your friends from harassing him?"

I blinked at her with an eyebrow lifted. "You have too much faith in my heroic abilities."

"I think I have just enough. Ready to eat?"

Breakfast was cereal and toast, and bacon and scrambled eggs, with orange juice and presents. When I sat at our little rounded table, mum sat too and began to pour us both some juice, so I went to fill up my cereal bowl.

"You don't want to open them first?"

"Should I?" She nodded.

"And there's one more to come, but it's in my room, so we can get that after breakfast. I do believe two others are coming over too, later today." I grinned, knowing already who those two would be. My mother's job as a child-minder meant I spent a heck of a lot of time with kids, and that was really cool. Charlotte and Priya had been planning what they were going to get me for weeks now, and I was interested, and, admittedly, a little excited, to see what it was going to be.

I reached over my cereal bowl for the top object on the pile of two.

Due to its size and shape, it had been very plainly obvious that it was a CD, but having opened it, it was both the new Eminem album, and a £5 iTunes voucher. I couldn't help grinning widely as I went to thank her, but she waved me on to the next, which was two wrapped in one; a DVD and the graphic novel of The Watchmen.

Any grinned gratitude was shushed by my mum as she made me remain seated and told me to eat as she went to retrieve the last – but not least. I did so, though, while I crunched on my frosted flakes, I felt rather like cattle chewing the cud as I repeated the action and waited for my mother. And fucking Freddie was tainting my thoughts again. But I didn't know why I always stressed about revealing things to my mum when, every time I did so, it always brushed the anxiety and confusion and self-hatred away. Teased the impending sense of doom out. My mum was like my best friend. Corny as it may have been, she was the only one I could express myself fully and truly with. The only person in the world with which I could just be. Ryan was next in line, but with him I still felt a slight pressure to act a certain way, and hold to certain beliefs. I couldn't be completely serious concerning how I felt with him, because his replies were often jokes or passively ambiguous remarks that got me nowhere.

When she reappeared, she was accompanied with a beautifully smooth, burnt red/orange acoustic electric guitar, complete with a bag, a pack of multicoloured plectrums, amp and chord songbook. After I fell all over the instrument, loving every inch with my eyes, and kissing it lightly with my fingers, mum presented a book too.

I looked at it quizzically.

Postcards from no man's land by an Aiden Chambers. My confused gaze rose to her.

"That's for me too?"

"Wasn't going to be," she began, handing it over before making her way to the table. "I finished reading it a couple of days ago. The main guy, Jacob, he reminds me of you a lot. I think you should read it." I blinked at the book in my hands and shrugged after a moment, bringing it with me to the table and placing it atop the other gifts.

"Thank you."

As I ate, my heart felt light, and my eyes kept straying to my brand new guitar.

[Date: November 9th Word Count: 11,307 Target: 15,000. Not reached. Gah.]