Levitate (An Andy Leo x Dave Escamilla story)

Levitate - I

I never fully understood the concept of life and death. As a child, my parents always told me stories of our ancestors who had passed on, and when my Nana on my mom's side passed, they began telling me more and more about death. I found death to be an interesting topic. The fact that our human bodies can only live for so long before they give out. I found death interesting and I found it to be a factor in a lot of my dreams.

"It'll wear off, son." Was almost always my dad's answer. He would pat me on the back and send me on my way, back to bed so I would hopefully leave him alone for the night.

That's also why I cherished Halloween so much. The idea of chasing away the monsters that hid under your bed simply by dressing as something you were not. As a kid, I always saw the candy as a bonus to scaring away my fears, while allowing new ones to from. The monster who lived under my bed soon made its way out from under my box spring and weaseled its way into my head.

"Andrew! Come on, baby! We gotta go before it gets dark out." My mothers voice called, a tinge of annoyance added to it.

"It's Halloween, mom. Where is your holiday spirit? We should be getting dressed up and begging for candy. Well, I should be. You should be giving it out. Come on, mom. One more night." My voice whiny as I begged for one more night in my childhood home.

"Ay dios mío, Andrew. My spirit is at the new house, waiting with a house full of unopened boxes and my bed. Besides, you're too old for trick or treating. You're sixteen. Tiempo para crecer. Now get your things and let's go. Now." She crossed her arms over he chest and tapped her foot, hair up in a hair tie and makeup not done.

"Usted arruinar toda la diversión." I grumbled under my breath, rolling my eyes and grabbing my last boxes. In reality, I wasn't ready to leave. The house itself was something to marvel at, even without knowing the stories that came from within. A two story older house with large windows, fenced in by hedges and an old rod iron fence. Clearly built by a Mexican who wanted to make a legacy in America, as shown by the small details and large size of the house, also known as my grandfather. Killed by his own grief when my Nana left him for a younger wealthy man, eating a bullet the day their divorce was finalized. My mother had always told me stories about him, saying he was a kind man with a big heart. He died when I was in my mother's womb. My parents moved into his house after he left it in the will. Leaving everything to my mother and my Nana.

"I heard that." She stated blankly, smacking my arm once I had returned. Pulling away from the curb was the hardest part, my ears ringing as we drove past the neighbors house. I picked at my nails as the memories of me and my brother playing in the backyard played in my head like a broken record, each memory repeating time and time again until a new one took its place. No one talked about my brother anymore. Ollie. He had moved on and so had my parents. Myself, not so much. Things had gotten bad once he left. It was like he was the glue that held everyone together, by annoying the shit out of us. He slammed the door shut behind him when he left, and never showed again. Gone with the wind. When he left, as did my sanity.

"We're home." My mother smiled, patting my thigh and pulling into the drive of an old rickety off white home. The one story shack that sat in front of me could ruin anyone's day.

"Yay. Home." I mumbled under my breath, grabbing my box from the floor and pulling it into my lap.

"Hey. Don't be like that. We need the change." She smiled, the dark circles under her eyes making it hard to believe. The dead yellow excuse for grass stuck to the fabric of my black jeans as I walked to the front door. Grotesque was an understatement for this house. The inside smelled of mold and cat piss, the walls were about an inch thick with nicotine residue, and the floors were barely considerable as floors. Linoleum flooring that was missing in several patches, accompanied with piles of dead bugs, trash, and rat shit. The fact of the matter was that my parents had lost the home. As I said, Ollie leaving was the start of it all. My mother ended up catching my father cheating on her with Debbie, a transgender male to female woman, who worked with my dad. Surprisingly enough, my mother just shrugged it off, smiling for photos and pretending that she still had a head on her shoulders. When my father cheated, everything went downhill from there. He lost his job due to budget cuts, and my mom lost hers due to the same. My nana dying was just the cherry on top, leaving us where we were now.

"Son, grab a dustpan and broom, and help me with the mess, would'ya?" He asked, sweeping up the glass of a broken bottle that was left behind from God knows when. Instead of instantly helping, I walked the box to the room that would now be mine. It was about the size of a large walk in closet, complete with a broken light that's shattered glass was embedded deeply into the grungy old carpet that clearly had never been vacuumed. The house itself was smaller than our old living room, therefore we had nothing. We sold the majority of our things, including all furniture and forms of entertainment.

"This is going to be good for us. I promise." My mom smiled, wrapping her arm around me and kissing my forehead. In return, I wiggled free, not responding or even acknowledging her actions. She smiled sadly, nodding and clasping her hands together, a small okay falling from her lips. As she left, I turned to the door, noticing there in fact wasn't a door and instead, just hinges.

"That's fucking great." I smiled sarcastically, grabbing the small blanket Ollie had once given me and nails, hammering it into the wall. As the night progressed, the house only got worse, the stench making me vomit several times. The house was practically nothing due to the fact that it had been abandoned for so long, now only the homeless and edgy teens would go near it, having sex, and smoking whatever they could get their hands on. By time three in the morning had rolled around, my father had a black bandana over his mouth, pulling up the old linoleum from the floors and tossing it to the side, hoping I would help and take it outside. I watched the sky above, and kicked at the dead grass, biting off the bloodied dead skin of my lips, fingers raking through my mess of dark hair.

"Sweetheart, come inside. I don't want you out here all night." My mother cooed, pulling her oversized sweater closer to her body.

"Inside or outside, it's all the same." I mumbled, pulling the hem of my tank top down in annoyance.

"Andrew, it's hard on all of us. Just give it a chance." She plead, taking a seat next to me. I rolled my eyes at her actions, a small smirk pulling at the left side of my mouth.

"Leave me alone, mom." I laughed, pulling off one my contacts and putting it in the small solution filled container.

"Baby, listen. You have to realize that this is going to be good. We're just scratching the surface right now. Pretty soon, you'll start school and maybe make some new friends who understand you for you. Just realize it's only the beginning." She smiled, wrapping her arm around me and kissing the side of my face. Her faux happiness only repelled me more. Once I had my second contact out, and my glasses on, I pushed her arm off of me, standing up and taking a step away from her.

"We just hit rock bottom. Open your fucking eyes." I spat, rolling my eyes and walking to the front door.

"Oh, and as for school, don't act like you care." I smiled, stepping inside the torn up shit hole that was now home sweet home.

"You okay?" My dad asked, standing up straight with a sigh.

"Not like it fucking matters to you anyways." I mumbled, slamming my palm against the wall as I walked to what was now my room, the blanket fluttering back to it's original stance once I was on the inside. Kicking and hitting the walls wouldn't solve any of my problems. If anything, it would just make things worse, therefore I decided on sitting. Sitting in silence always got to my parents the most. They always figured something was wrong with me, considering I never amounted to anything in comparison to Ollie. Their fake innocence and love always made me sick as a child, and especially now. As I sat on the roach infested carpet, I heard their conversation, talking about how I would soon come around to the move and eventually be fine. I just needed to go to school and make friends. That was always their answer to the problem. Dump Andy on someone else until they were done with me too.