Missing The Mark ✔

5

Two days passed and I didn't go to their place, nor did they come to me. For the entirety of the two days, I sat at home and chain-smoked a bag of marijuana with Bird. On day two we invited some people to join the party, but they left early so it was just us again. One thing I thoroughly enjoy these days is just doing nothing. I haven't had an actual job in forever, I haven't had any type of romantic relationship with anyone, and I don't really have any hobbies. I just exist, sort of. And frankly, I don't really see an issue with that. I don't mind being at home all day doing nothing, only getting up when I feel like it; only eating because I don't want to die, It's not as bad as people play it off to be.

Today, however, was a different case. I was supposed to visit my mother. She usually smells either alcohol or drugs on me, so I take a day off before I visit her, but I couldn't really do that. It felt like I dug myself in so much shit that I just needed those two days. I needed those two days of relaxation and pure, ignorant bliss. And, if she does smell the narcotics on me then I can't really do anything at that point, and I really don't care. She is well aware of what I'm doing, and I don't see myself changing any time soon. She has been on my ass about it though, which is why I really try to let it off before I visit her-- I can't stand to hear her argue with me.

My mother lived on the poor side of town--well not poor, just not as rich as the rich side of town. almost in the middle. According to them, it's where all the thugs and thieves abide. They've never actually been back here, but they are 100% they are right about what they think of this place. Granted we don't necessarily prove them wrong, but why should we? They should mind their own business.

I walked up the front steps to my mother's porch and then entered the house. The first thing I heard was the blasting of the cartoon Dexter's Laboratory and I knew my sister was home. She's seven years old and into all cartoons--she doesn't discriminate. Her straight, black hair fell down her back and moved just slightly as she laughed at the television screen.

"Hey, Nicky." She instantly turned around, forgetting Dexter and Deedee and rushing to me. She hugged my legs tightly. "Danny! I missed you!" she said in a muffled tone. I smiled and lifted her off the ground--don't ask how I managed--and held her on my waist, so her face was at mine. I kissed her cheek. "I missed you too, Nic."

"Moms making cookies for me. She says I can take some to school tomorrow and give some to my friends. But I think it's unfair because they never bring cookies for me." I smiled at her but she just pouted. The little girl looked nothing like me or our mom, and the same went for me and Mom. Nicola was adopted at age three and I was adopted when I was eight months old. My parents are the only parents I've ever known so that's how they are treated. My mother was always the best mom you could think of. She really went all out for us, I just couldn't see it when I was going to school. I was rebellious and I treated her like a son should not treat his Mother. I've apologized multiple times to her and every time she would tell me "It's Okay" although we both know it wasn't.

I walked into the kitchen and found my mother slaving over a ball of dough. She didn't even seem to notice us in the kitchen until Nic shouted out to her. She rose her head saw me and began to grin. She rested down the cookie cutter and then walked toward me. She embraced me in a tight hug, with Nicola between us. She then held my face and kissed my forehead.

"Danny, honey, I missed you." She said. I put down Nicola and she ran off back into the living room. "Mom, we see each other every two weeks," I chuckled. On a cooling rack were about a dozen chocolate chip cookies, and I reached out to take one, hoping they weren't hot, as I spoke to my mother.

"Well, I still miss you. It's really very lonely without you here, you know." My mother said. She went back to flattening the dough to get different-shaped cookies. I stared at her as she worked and I thought about my Dad. How could she be lonely with him here? Well, the answer is simple. He is basically a shell of a person. He works all day, comes home, eats, and sits in front of the television until it's time for bed. Most of the time he sleeps out there. When Nic is at school, and my dad is at work, there isn't anyone else for her to turn to at home. I can understand her loneliness, but I've told her countless times she needs to start going out more.