My Anchor

3) A little miracle

Strikers POV

“She’s lying. The nurse is lying... I never even... you know... It can’t be mine!” I told Lizzie down the phone, remembering the night as if it was yesterday. Thinking how much of a stupid idiot I was to let her do this. Why the hell didn’t I use a condom? Why am I so thick!

I looked down at my beautiful sleepy son and the first thing that hit me was the social worker coming to see me today at 1pm. I looked at my watch... 11:30 and nothing had been done. I was so fucking stressed. The only thing I could think to do is go out onto the balcony of my flat, light up a spliff and smoke my worries away... Calm as fuck I was after! Don’t make this a habit I said to myself. Breathing as I tidied my yard. I fed, changed and dressed myself and Kyle just in time for the Social worker to come.

She looked at me suspiciously, I didn’t know whether it was obvious I had been smoking or whether I was just being paranoid but instantly I started questioning myself about where I put the weed or if my house stank. I breathed. Put on a show, one bad move and that bitch will know and he will be gone. I told myself.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked her politely, with a smile on my face. “No, let’s just get on with what I’m here to tell you, it won’t take a minute.” She said, in a very disturbing way. She was as cold as ice and you could tell just by looking at her. “Okay.” I replied wanting to punch the cow. We went into my living room and she looked around all four corners of the room. I sat down and just watched her, anxiously.

“We have had frequent reports of the smoking  of cannabis in the block, is this right Mr Hunter?” She asked me. I’m fucked, I’m fucked. SHIT do I say yes? Or do I say no? I wrestled with myself. “I can smell it right now, is this right Mr Hunter. It’s okay, were on your side.” She said with an evil smile. I thought she just wanted my son. I picked him up and lay him close to my chest. I couldn’t lose him. Not yet, he’s my solid rock. I would go off the rails if it wasn’t for my baby. Silence swept through the room.

“Yes, but it’s not me honestly. I tell ‘em all the time man but they don’t know. They don’t listen” I cried. Man I was becoming such a pussy nowadays after having my son. I was so protective over him. I just didn’t want to lose him. “Okay, Mr Hunter well we’re giving you an option.” The evil woman said. She breathed. “You can either stay here in this flat or we’re offering you a 3 bedroom house under the condition that you work at least 2 days a week. We will support you with the rest” She smiled. What the actual fuck? I said to myself. This must be some sort of joke or something because things like that never happened to me. I mean I’ve been a street kid all my life, my mom was at hostel to hostel then she got me this flat off money she’d been saving and now, now i’m going to be living in my own house with my son. This is perfect. There must be a god. I thought to myself.

“Thank you so much” I enveloped her, my words being like a hug gripping tighter and tighter. I couldn’t stop thanking her. I felt like I was in a dream. “We will move you within 3-5 days. You can have a viewing of the house tomorrow, if you would like. You need to start looking for jobs NOW though.” She told me. “I could kiss you!” I told her. She smiled, with that evil look in her eyes. “I’m growing fond of you David. I will see you bright and early tomorrow. 9:00AM!” She said.

I let her out and started jumping around my flat and then I phoned my mum. “MUM, MUM YOU NEVER GUESS WHAT?!” I shouted down the phone. “Yes, son?” she asked. “I got a new place mum, I have to start work and stuff and I will be moving soon. It’s a house mum, a real house.” I broke down to her on the phone. She was the only person that had ever seen me cry before. “That’s great son, I’m happy for you.”She laughed and put the phone down. I started packing everything. No more Striker. From now on it is David Hunter the businessman. I told myself. I threw away everything that had to do with the streets. But, I knew that the streets would find me again someday even if it’s not the same way it is.

I spent that night packing. Leaving out only mine and Kyle’s little necessities and slept through the rest of the night.

I dreamt that night, of me and Kyle living in a palace. But why a palace? I thought to myself! And outside were hundreds of girls but when I stepped into the living room... I saw this one familiar face. Kayla’s.

KAYLA’S POV

“I miss you. I miss us. I miss this. I miss that. The extravagance of life when I am around you, the song I wouldn’t tell you” I wrote in my songbook. It didn’t have a tune yet but I could tell it was gonna be great. I picked up another glass of vodka and drank it as if it were a shot and sprayed breathe spray in my mouth to hide the evidence. I just wanted my son. My baby boy. I wanted to hold him, to smell him. To feel his skin against mine for one last time, to feel his lips on my breast again. I know that sounds weird but it’s those kind of things that you miss most when you lose a child like I did.

I wanted to dial Striker but I just couldn’t, I had people everywhere watching me. “Maya, your meal has been prepared.” The maid knocked on my door. I could hardly walk because of the vodka but nobody could tell. I sat at the table and ate my food. I couldn’t stop thinking about my son and what he was doing. My parents always saw me as a disgrace to the family because what I did brought shame to our name but it wasn’t my fault. I was in love. It’s not like they didn’t have secrets of their own too... And it’s not like I can forgive them for what they made me do to David and to my son. I mean... I don’t even know my sons name.