Jim opened his eyes to the sound of water running. His mother must have t got home and into the shower. In their small home, the walls were thin, and he could hear her singing lightly through the walls. It must have been a successful night.
Jim's mother had tried to keep it from him. Things like, "I'm working the night shift honey," and "I'll be out running errands late."
But as he got older, he began to notice things. Bad things. Like how sometimes she wouldn't return until late morning, with groceries, extra money, and bruises on her body. Or how sometimes she would come home looking defeated, and lock herself in her room. He could hear her crying.
He rolled out of bed, his mind a million miles away. It was 5:00. He had to be at work in half an hour.
She hasn't always been like this, his mom. Before his dad died, they had income. She smiled more. She laughed more. She could relax.
By the Time he was 13, she had lost her second job because of schedual conflict with her other job. At least that's what shed told him when he asked about it.
He had a feeling for a while Now that she had a drug problem. But he couldn't ever confront her about it.Putting on a black t shirt with holes and some grey skinny jeans, he reached for his glasses, on the floor beside his bed. He knew they would be there and not on his desk, where they should be, because he'd thrown them down after he was up late drawing.
He was almost curious to see what he's drawn in his exhausted half asleap state last night, but decided to not look. He hadn't been in a very good headspace last night anyways.
Lately it felt like he couldn't get out of this fog. Like even though he felt okay most of the time, he was just slipping.Anyways, enough of that. He put his glasses on, and grabbed a thick sketch book and his bag off of the floor by the door and put on his beat up vans. Time to go to work.
Because of low income, his family only had one car. Meaning, Jim did not have his own to drive to work. Most mornings he walked, but because his mom was already home, he took the car this morning.
YOU ARE READING
fall
General Fictionin a world where at age 15 peoples hair changes with their emotions, it's easy to tell what people are feeling just by looking at them. this can make things easier or harder. Highschool aged-ish based