Chasing Reality [sequel to Autistic Innocence -J.M]

Chapter 6

Chance's P.O.V

"Bullshit, bullshit, some more bullshit," I mumble to myself as I go through all the envelops that all demanded the same. Exact. Thing: money.

I look over at the digital clock on the microwave and see that it's three in the morning.

Deejay and my mom were asleep.

I continue to go through the bills.

When I get to the what I thought was the last bill, I see who it's from.

A chuckle escapes my lips.

"And some even more bullshit," I whisper.

I stare at the envelope for a second before ripping it open carelessly.

Our child support checks.

"At least you ain't completely useless," I mumble as I turn the checks in my hands.

I set them aside and see that I had dropped one more envelope that was laying under the old rickety table.

I reach down and grab it where I squint at the words and mentally curse at the low dim lights above me.

A scoff is heard from my lips when I see the same envelope the government kept sending us over and over again.

I crumble it up in my hands and throw it into the trash bin that was in the small connected kitchen.

At the sound of footsteps I look up.

It's my mother.

But I just ignore her and go back to organizing the bills that scattered the table.

I feel her stare on me as I continue to act as if she wasn't even there.

"Y-you should be in bed," her words are still slightly slurred from all the alcohol she had consumed earlier.

"And you should be the one paying these bills," I say as I write down the bills I could pay already with the money I had stowed away in a notebook before setting them in their own pile.

I look back when I hear nothing.

She's still there, looking down at her feet as she swayed back and forth drunkenly.

I sigh and put the pen down and turn my body to her from the chair I was sitting in.

"What do you need ma? You came in here for some water?" I stand up and make my way to the kitchen.

"Go back to your room. I'll bring it to you." I mumble as I pass her.

She doesn't reply but I hear her footsteps getting fainter and fainter, indicating she actually listened to me.

I grab a glass from one of the cabinets, fill it with water from the sink, grab some of the aspirin from a separate cabinet, and slowly walk down the hallway to my mothers room.

She was sitting on the side of her bed, her legs hanging off the side as she stared blankly at the ground.

"Ma, drink this." I demand softly and hand her the glass along with the pills.