Comeuppance

Concrete Jungle Where Dreams Are Made Of........

Comeuppance is an outcome (good or bad) that is well deserved and this is the story of comeuppance

The deafening clap of thunder, roaring in my ears, followed by the blinding bright flash of lightning made me feel like the weather was as gloomy as my soul. The lightning flashed again reminding me of the flash from a camera. Cameras are usually used to capture happy moments but this moment was anything but happy...

Mornings; they symbolise beginnings, the beginning of a new beautiful day, forgetting about whatever you had to deal with the day before and My mother, for example had decided to 'start over' being clean. Going 'cold turkey'. Yeah as if! She's a drug addict. She needs drugs like you and I need air. There is no way she is going to continue to be clean. She's only 26 years old yet her life has already wasted away.

I peeled myself from my bed, the comfort of the bed holding me in a warm embrace. I contemplated about staying in my bed. I closed my eyes and was about to drift off to a deep slumber until a delicious aroma tickled my nose. I perked up, curious to see if it could be my mother. My hope for her was as alive as a dead flower. I raced down the stairs and opened up the grimy, blackening kitchen door. I could hear the popping and crackling as my mum dropped the bacon into the frying pan; soon the salty, greasy smell wafted towards me.

"Morning mom, you look good today. Are you going out?", I asked my mother. She actually looked nice. Her usual scraggly, limp dirty blonde hair was tied up into a sleek chignon showing off the sharp cheekbones on her face that I never knew existed. She had put on a bit of makeup on giving her usually pale face, a bit of colour.

"Morning sunshine how was your sleep? I made you bacon and eggs. Be a darling and set the table up for us to have breakfast", my mother replied cheerfully, a spring in her step. I treaded gingerly around her and over to the ash stained table. Clearing away all the empty beer cans that littered the table and I sat down.

"Here we go babe, hope you like it. So any plans for today? I was thinking we could go up to the shopping centre for some new clothes. I can't find a god damn thing that fits me anymore. I lost so much weight! So what do you think?" my mother exclaimed setting the plates of piping hot delicious food on the table and sitting down. I silently nod, knowing fully well that I had school but I couldn't argue with her. Arguing with her was like fighting with hand grenades.

She lit a cigarette. "Clear up the table when you're done" she drawled sucking the life out of the cigarette, "I'm going to find something cute to wear". As she got up her elbow accidentally knocks over a glass bottle that I hadn't seen before when I was clearing the table. Oh No. I watched the bottle roll off the table. And then, like someone flicked a switch in her in brain, my mother's mood changed. "How DARE you knock that bottle over? Are you trying to kill me you stupid boy!!" she screamed storming over to me. I cowered back in fear. She grabbed me by the hair and gave me a slap across the cheek. It stung. "I'll show you what it's like when someone throws a bottle at you," she shouted going to the kitchen to get a bottle. I got up and sprinted up the stairs not caring about the shards of glass penetrating the bare soles of my feet. I slammed the door shut and pushed my bed in front of it.

"Comeback here, I'll smash this fucking bottle on your stupid 'smartass' head," shethreatened banging against the door. My heart was racing. Deep breath Hunter,deep breath. I walked over to my wardrobe. At the bottom of the wardrobe undera loose board was my special box. It contained pictures, newspaper articles andmy only way out of here to New York. The place in which my dad lived. 'The LandOf Dreams', 'The Golden City', 'The Big Apple'. The place I live in right now,New Forest Village, is probably the most dullest place ever. The only interestingthing is that there are many trees. Trees! I realised I needed a new change of scenery.

 I took out the only picture I have of my dad along with the letter my dad sentme. I decided then and there that I had to escape.

I realised the banging had stopped for a while. I grabbed a backpack and stuffed it with as many clothes as possible, tucked the picture and the ticket my dad sent me safely into my pocket pulled the bed back and tip-toed around searching for my mother. I found her sprawled, passed out on the floor with a needle stuck in her arm. For once I didn't feel sorry for her. I looked at her with a disgust I didn't know I felt and called 911. When they told me that they were on their way, I walked out the front door to begin the better part of my life...

Why do I make such stupid decisions? Maybe I'm destined to be a crackhead like my mother. At least then, I'll be certain of one thing. Even if it is death...As I thought about my other options, which there weren't many of, a dark shadow cast over me, shielding me from the faint drizzle of rain that was making the 'New Yorkers' around me hustle. "Need help doll?" asked a gentle yet firm voice. I could hear a soft European accent. I remembered the 'Stranger Danger' rule; I just looked at her and didn't reply. "Ok then, just ignore me. I however am not letting you just freeze in this cold," she exclaimed picking me up from my crouched position on the ground. I took the chance to look at her properly. She had a kind face, features soft yet weathered by the hardships she had obviously been through. She was stooping slightly. I decided to follow her. It was my only option.

The City That Never Sleeps. They don't lie about that. It was around 9pm and yet people were whizzing around like it was 3pm. The bright neon lights on the billboards casting fun, luminous shadows. The woman whose name happened to be Lily Rayne was on the phone. "Hey I'm walking here," a lady said to me as I bumped into her. They were lots of people from different cultures. I looked around in awe. Black people, their ebony skin glistening with the rain. Asian people, standing in close-knit groups. European people speaking their native languages fast and smoothly. It sounded so beautiful.

"Are you hungry?" Lily Rayne asked. I simplynodded "Come over to this place they have really nice food. We can bring ithome with us" she replied pulling me gently over to this fancy coffee place. 

Home? I didn't know this woman so how can her home be mine also. A sharp smell of bitter coffee hit me first. I gagged a bit. But after I got used to it, a lemony, tanginess enveloped me. "Mmmm what's that smell?" I asked mesmerized. "Sour dough bread, I'll get you some as well as a muffin. We have to hurry to get to train though," huffed Lily Rayne as she got out her purse and started ordering.

The tall skyscrapers hung over me like towering trees. The cables from a building site lashed around me like vines as I walked by. So many sounds filled my ears. Cars moved around me honking. The noise of people talking and shouting, tuneful jazz music playing a really beautiful song in the background. "New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of, there's nothing you can't do, now you're in New York..."the singer sang. I decided to drop a few coins in her guitar bag. She gave me a gracious smile. I could get used to this.

As we walked to the train station, vendors from food stands came up to me and asked me to sample their food. Bitter, sweet, creamy, warm, savoury were only a few of the words that came to mind. My mouth was overcome with flavours. We got on the train. It was cramped. Sweaty people pushed against me the aroma of them suffocating my nose. I turned around. There were mothers consoling crying babies. Other people looking out the window, eyes open wide with hope, holding bags more than likely starting their lives over.

As we got off, we walked a short distance to a beautiful, ivy covered cottage. The door swung open and a tall, dark mysterious figure stood in the doorway. The figure looked very familiar yet I couldn't figure it out. Like a friend you were close with when you were young but lost contact and after many years meet each other again. "Hunter?" The man shouted rushing towards me. As his arms enveloped me I was stuck still like statue. I was overcome with emotions. "Dad!" I sobbed. "I'm so sorry son, I have some terrible news. Your mother is dead. When 911 came they pronounced your mother dead at the scene. She OD'd. They traced my number and knew you were coming here when they saw your open box filled with New York stuff. Lily Rayne here is your social worker...,"he trailed on. 

At first I felt nothing but all at once realisation dawned over me. "Oh," I whispered. It had started to rain heavier now, the grey sky, crying the tears that should have been mine but I couldn't cry I may have wanted to but I couldn't. The pain I should have felt had fizzled out over the years instead I felt as if a weight had been lifted up off my shoulders. I didn't feel like she deserved it but I sort of did almost like karma for all the stuff she had put me through, I looked up to the sky and let the hard raindrops hit my skin I felt nothing. That doesn't make me inhumane, does it?