Trigger Warning

Chapter Three: Emmett's POV

Work was slow, and dull, and didn't have very much fun involved. Today was a Saturday so it was our busiest day-- there were four of us just back in electronics. There was myself, Todd, Valerie, and Elaine. Todd was a thirty year old man with a very scruffy beard. His family was totally rich so he didn't need a job, but his parents thought it would teach him responsibility. Yes, he still lived with his parents. Valerie was your modern day hippie. She had hair down to her waist that was always just tied up in a ponytail, and she loved to wear a little sunflower necklace. Elaine was, to put it simply, annoying as hell. She was working here because her dad is the manager. She's only 14, but is actually really smart. She knows it, too, though, so that's the annoying part. Her red hair and mouth full of metal make her the poster child for the awkward teenage years.

"Hey Emmett," Valerie greeted me as I walked over to the counter. Valerie was really friendly like that, always the first to say hello.

"Hey, Val. How's work been today?" I replied. I walked to behind the counter and took a seat between Valerie and Todd.

"Rather dull today," Todd answered me. He was playing some game on his phone, not really paying attention to his surroundings. I looked around the corner and saw Elaine showing some middle-aged woman the collection of cooking games we had.

"Todd I haven't seen you here in a few weeks," I said, starting conversation. Todd shrugged, and then sighed.

"Mom had hip surgery so I opted out of working for a few weeks. Today is my first day back in two whole freakin weeks," Todd died in his game and threw his phone across the counter and groaned.

"That really, uh," Valerie began.

"It blows man," I finished for her. She looked at me and smiled appreciatively. I saw a man, about late thirties, walk over to the counter.

"Hello, I'm looking for the xbox games?" he asked. I motioned to my fellow coworkers I would help this poor old man.

I led the man to our impressive collection of video games for his console of choice.

Today was going to be a boring day at work.

I was walking up and down the aisles when I saw an old video game I used to play: Sonic. I used to love video games on my old Gameboy. When I was a little boy I had a pretty normal childhood.

My dad was in a car accident when I was four years old, and it left him paralyzed from the neck down. He also suffered from severe brain damage, and couldn't speak well. He didn't remember anything, either. It was like he was a new person, but not even a person at all, really.

This tore my mother up. A week before the car accident she found out she was pregnant with my little sister. I don't remember much from that young age, but I do remember my mom telling me she had a baby in her stomach.

After my dad's car accident, my mom didn't do anything really. It was like he was an empty shell of a person. My mom was never married to my dad, but since he didn't know who she was it was really easy for us to break off from him.

I don't know if my dad is still alive or not, I don't even really know if he's any better. I do remember my mom said he was living with his parents last time she checked, but that was years ago. He stayed in Nevada as we moved to Michigan.

Soon after the move she lost my little sister to a miscarriage, and that hurt my mother more than I could ever understand.

Since we moved, my mother changed dramatically. She cut all her hair off, to a short little pixie cut. She lost nearly fifty pounds, and now she's a little bitty skinny thing. She doesn't currently have a job, but somehow she manages to bring in enough to pay our little house payment, as I pay for the groceries and utilities. My mother is a shell of who she used to be, but this is how I've always remembered her.

In the early days of living in Michigan, she was okay. She had numerous partners, who all left a mark on us in some form or fashion.

There was David, moms first boyfriend. He was with us up until I turned six. He was a fat man, who wore suits and only came by after six. He always left before nine, too.

After David there was Jeremy, who was only with us for about eight months until he started hitting my mom. He left a mark on us in the form of holes all down the hallway. That ended after a panicked call to 911 by six year old Emmett.

Jeremy was my moms last boyfriend for a few years, because he hurt her physically more than mentally. That's where Wanda came in. Wanda was a busty woman with big hair, and always had a cigarette in her mouth. Wanda and my mom were together until I turned ten. I don't know why Wanda left. She made my mom really happy. Well, the closest thing to happy I think I have ever seen my mom.

After Wanda my mom took about a two year break from relationships, but brought home various men and women on week nights. I would wake up some mornings and have to nicely ask the person passed out on the couch to move so I could grab my backpack for school. Those were some awkward moments.

When I was thirteen my mom had another girlfriend, Amanda. Amanda was a mixed woman with big curly hair. She had three kids of her own, but they were all really rude. She wasn't too nice either, but mom liked her for some time.

Amanda and my mom broke up just a few months ago, I think because my mom didn't want to get married.

After everything, everyone, my mom still hasn't gotten married. I don't think she ever will.

Since her breakup with Amanda, my mom has been coming in at all hours of the night. Not necessarily drunk, but just a piece of her missing.

My mom never has been a mom in the stereotypical way. Mom never came to parent-teacher conference and never made me cakes for my birthdays. She never figured out the perfect recipe for casseroles and didn't have any cute baby photos of me lining the walls of the living room.

My mom was a mom in the sense I knew she was always there for me, and I was always there for her. We weren't close, but we weren't distant either.

All I know is I can't leave my mom. That's all she knows, honestly. Being left.