This Plane

Life's good

I walk out of the prison gates . I don't know why but I always feel empty when I walk out of these gates. Its not like I'm guilty of anything worth going to prison for. But frankly, who hasn't commited at least one crime?

Yes, yes I hear you. I shouldn't have told Eric that if he left his "bitch" around I'll pop the champagne with her. Can you blame me? She literarily nauseates me. And I was mad at him for bringing her to my house even though its his house too.

Walking the 4 miles to my house from the state prison was tiring at first but I got used to it and every Friday afternoon became workout day for me. Scoff. Leave it me and I won't step out my room. I walk into the lounge and toss my coat on one of the sofas its not like anyone visits so the lounge was a waste of space. Leave it to my dad to create lots of big and useless stuff. They actually end up useful, i'm just being sentimental.

I rush to my room to change to clothes suitable for hospital and park visits. I grab my my car keys and walk up to silver mist my trusted means of transport.
I start checking things off my to do list as I drive. Home work;done. Visit dad;done. Check on Aunt Esme;on my way.

I'll be super tired once I get home. It's a Friday thing. But when am I not tired? I drive the two miles to the hospital and head towards the oh so familiar, ER to see my aunt Esmeralda.

" Hey" my aunt greets she's in the middle of talking to who I think is a patients parents or nah I don't really care.

" Hey Esme, you ready? " I ask my aunt when she is done. A hug follows before I continue

" I have to take Eric out when I'm done so.... Can you hurry up? " I rush out. Not that I don't want to spend time with her but I really hate hospitals.

Fridays and I have a love hate relationship.

" Sure. I'm ready let's go".

We leave together toward the familiar hallway filled with rooms. First time I came here I was 6 and I came here every Friday since then. We enter my moms room and Esme goes first. She talks about her week to my mom who doesn't reply . Sometimes I wonder why we do this we never get an answer but we continue. I like talking to my mom and so does Esme. I can't wait for Eric to be able to do the same. Esme's laughter brings me back to the room. She's done and leaves to get Eric.

" Hey mom. How you doing? " I begin. I could never get used to this. I guess my heart needs a reminder of why we all have to survive.
There so much I want to tell my mom but for years it never came out and today is no different.

Esme knocks on the door and rolls in Eric, who's holding his stupid bitch on his wheel chair, into the room without waiting for a reply. He holds ma's hand with his free one and says nothing. Not like he could.

"Hey buddy! Miss me? " I ask him ruffling his hair immediately he is fully in the room. He nods with a huge smile and motions for me to hug him.

"My darling Eric you know I won't touch you with a 500 mile pole as long as that bitch is in your hands" I say in the best British accent I can muster.

Who is this bitch you ask. She's a doll. A 5 year old doll that Eric fell in love with after his first surgery. Why do I hate her? Another story. I digress.

He looks at me with that 'grow up! ' look. I just shake my head and wear a blank face. He finally drops the haggard thing in his moms laps I hug him.

"happy now?" I tease as I begin to unbuckle him "Missed you buddy" he squeezes his face at me when I fake bite his nose. I place my hands under his armpits and lift him out of the chair.