Slowtown

.:8:. (Josh)

My small legs we’re moving as fast as possible as I sprint to get home. All I can think about is how much trouble I’m going to be in because I’m late to getting home. And if Mama figures out that I tried a cigarette there’s no way she’s letting me outside the house again.

I finally reach the front door and lean against the house for a second, trying to catch my breath. After I regain it, the door abruptly swings open and there stands Mama. She grabs the neck of my shirt and drags me inside.

“What the hell took you so long? I told you to be back by 6:00. Guess what time it is?” She pauses for a second, but not long enough for me to answer, “6:30, it's 6:30, Joshua. I was worried sick! I was about to start wandering the streets to look for your dead body! I was so scared, Josh…” She trails off and I notice her eyes are starting to water.

I look down at the ground in shame, “I’m sorry, Mama. It won’t happen again.” She lets out a small noise of relief and pulls me into a hug before pushing me away and taking in a big sniff.

Her eyebrows furrow, “Joshua… why do you smell like cigarette smoke?” She speaks slowly. My heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest as I watch her eyes darken.

“I-I-” I try to speak but I’m at a loss for words. I had completely forgotten that the smell of cigarette smoke lingers on your clothes.

“Joshua William Dun!” Mama raises her voice and stands up, “Did you smoke?” She asks in utter disbelief. She once more leans forward to smell me but I jerk back, making sure she doesn’t come near me.

“Ty-Tyler offered and I s-s-said yes.” I stutter out. Mama throws her hands over her mouth and gasps.

“Why would you say yes? You know smoking is bad for you.” Anger bubbles up inside of me as she continues to lecture me on how bad smoking is.

“You know what, Mama? Let me live a little! You can’t keep me as your perfect son forever!” I scream, but instantly regret it as I feel pain erupt on the left side of my face. I yelp in pain and fall backwards, hitting my head on the doorknob.

“You will never see Tyler again. And don’t even think about bringing that cat back inside of here.” She spins around, her hair flicking around her, and heads upstairs.

I throw my fist against the floor and let out a sob. I have been slapped twice today now, a bruise was definitely going to be on my cheek. I get up, trying to contain my weeps, and lightly rub the back of my head where I hit the doorknob. I already feel a bump starting to form.

I head to my room and throw myself onto my bed, letting the cries and sobs I was trying to contain all out. My pillow was now soaked with tears but I didn’t care. I honestly could care less what Mama says about me not being able to see Tyler, I have to see him. He’s the only friend I’ve made so far in my 15 years of life.

After a long session of crying, I look up at the black clock with grey numbers that illuminated the world in shades of grey. 8::30. I have been crying for two hours, wow, I’m such a crybaby.

I wipe the excess tears from my eyes and sniff, trying to get my nose a little less stuffy. I sit up from my damp pillow and lean against the wall. I smack my lips together, a small taste of the cigarette still inside my mouth. Suddenly, a craving erupts in my stomach to get the taste of that cigarette smoke once again and feel just as relaxed as the first time I had tried it.

“No wonder Tyler likes them.” I quietly murmur to myself, “They make you feel all relaxed.” I walk downstairs and head to the front door, but am immediately stopped by Mama.

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” She asks, her voice seems to be very high.

“Out?” She shakes her head ‘no’ and points upstairs. I groan and stomp back upstairs into my room.  I look out the window for a second as a crazy plan starts to form inside my brain. I slowly get up and head towards the window and slide it open. The window gives out a loud, pained creak as I open it, but not loud enough for Mama to hear. I throw one leg over the windowsill and then another until my legs are dangling off the edge.

I grab a hold of a branch of a nearby tree and swing one leg over onto the tree. I hiss as I feel a splinter poke into my thigh.

After I get myself onto the tree I slowly scoot downwards until my feet can touch the ground. I get off and triumphantly place my hands on my hips.

“Totally going to Bear’s.” I say while walking away, but turn around for a moment, only to flip the house off. “Not so innocent anymore.” I laugh to myself.

--

Knock knock knock.

“Who’s there?” A muffled voice questions. Before I have time to answer, the door is swung open and there stands Tyler… without a shirt on. I blush as I see his toned and muscular tattooed chest, his pierced collar bones suiting him perfectly.

“JoJo!” He leans back slightly and points at me with finger guns, “Hey! I didn’t expect you to be here so late? Come in, sorry, Zack is cooking dinner.” He notices the bruise on my cheek and scoffs, “Did Chris do that?” I shake my head and he lifts an eyebrow, “Who?”

“M-mama.” He grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug, his piercings rubbing against my neck. The smell of cigarettes waft into my nose but I relish it, it’s almost comforting.