redamancy (n.) 'red-a-"man-sE
the act of loving in return
We sat silently in his room, just doing homework. He seemed kinda distracted. I'm not sure by what but something was definitely on his mind.
"You alright, Pone?"
"Hm?" He shifted his eyes...
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Redamancy (n.) 'red-a-"man-sE the act of loving in return ❀❀❀ Word Count 1506 Date Published 12-27-19 ❀❀❀
Gigi flashback
"I can't believe you're sendin' me to live with him of all people."
"Gigi, I have no choice anymore!" My mom yelled back and my mom never yells.
"What do ya mean?" I retorted, "Send me to Grandma's!"
"No! You have grown completely outta control!"
"Come on, Mom!" My brother walked in.
"Quit yellin' at Ma like that or I'll-"
"You'll what? Huh, Two-bit?" I interrupted. He clenched his jaw.
There was a painful silence. After everything he put us through, my mom wanted to send me to New York to live with him. I hated him. He hurt me and my brother. But he broke my mom. I wanted nothing to do with him. I even wished he was dead at some point. For the past two years it was just us three. Two-bit spoke to break the quiet tension.
"Ma's right, Gi." He calmly started, "You've been gettin' into too much trouble-" He stopped. "For awhile."
"Y'mean since Dad left, right?" I snapped. "Don't you guys remember? He walked out on us! And now you expect me to go live him for God knows how long?! Like that night never happened?"
Mom was silent. I was ten when Dad left and Two-bit was fourteen. I'm currently twelve; Two-bit's sixteen. The night he left, I heard Mom sob herself to sleep. Her bedroom door was locked so me and my brother couldn't get in. I watched Dad walk out. He had a dark brown suitcase. I met eyes with him. His eyes jolted from mine. The tears filled my eyes as he opened the door while I begged him to work it out with Mom. He told me it was much more complicated. He couldn't even look at me. And with that he walked out. That was the last thing he said too. No 'Goodbye' or 'I love you' or 'See you soon'. A week after that, my parents were divorced and Dad moved back up to New York. He always said the gangs there were much tougher and more dangerous.
Two-bit said, "You don' act like a twelve year old."
"Yeah I do!"
"Twelve year olds don' key up the sheriff's car for fun!" My mom argued.
