Day 157

I slowly trudged into my room, my clothes all worn and baggy. I was wearing his shirt to be precise, cleaned,.pressed and removed of the stains. There was a trojan horse on the front left side, right on top of the breast. It was stenciled out and traced over multiple times, and then eventually filled in with blacks, blues and grays. He was sitting on a bench, the lower palms of his hands digging into his eyes. He was all dressed and cleaned, hair slicked back and gelled. He was the exact opposite of me. I slowly tip-toed over to him and sat next to him on the bench, staring out the large window. My camera dangled around my neck firmly I debated taking pictures of the morning sky but refrained to the best of my abilities. I didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“You got dressed pretty fast.” I said smoothly. He tried to ignore the words but I saw a small smirk sketch across his covered face. He dropped a hand against his thigh and let a hazel gold eye peer directly at my own. I tried to rid myself of the nerves it brought me but there was no use.

“So do you.” he joked, letting the sound of a smile fill his tone. I leaned my head up against the edge of his shoulder and slowly started to trail my hand against his free arm, and then down to his thigh.

“Why are you so dressed up?” I tried to make conversation but it seemed hopeless. He gave me a quick stare before getting up to open the window. I exhaled distraughtly and followed behind, grabbing a hand of his. He firmly squeezed it and dragged me out onto the balcony. I obliged weakly. Not weak physically… but weak to being around him. Everything seemed right when touched.

“Don’t you have to go to work soon?” I smirked lightly tugging at his arm. He smiled briefly and let my hand go. I didn’t flinch, but I wanted nothing more than to reach for his palm again. He leaned over the edge of the protective railing and placed a bright white cigarette between his lips. My nose wrinkled in protest as I took a seat in one of the near lounging chairs. I spread my legs out slowly and leaned back against the cushions, covering my own face with my forearm. I stared at him from underneath the free space. I watched him place the lit cigarette in his mouth, but not inhale. I watched him run a hand across his short hair slowly, and stare at the loose strands in disgust as they collected within his hand. I watched him put the cigarette out and flick it into the streets below. I watched his eyes clothes, and his lips start to move.

“I have to go to work.” he grunted finally.

“No you don’t.” I said a bit pained. I was hoping it would be a lie, but I already knew it wasn’t.  I sighed lightly and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of traffic underneath us start to grow louder

“Your mother called.” Marc started off with a bit of a edgy tone. I could tell he was worn out. From what, I wasn’t exactly sure. “She told me she wanted you to stop by today. Because it’s your birthday and she wants to give you something.” he said with a slightly more heartfelt tone. I snorted in disgust and rolled onto my side, staring through the space between my arm and the chair, and into my empty apartment. “Why did you answer my phone?” I tried to find some means of arguing against a visit to my mothers but my options were bleak.

“Because, you were asleep, and I wasn’t going to ignore a call from your mother.” he shot back respectfully. I huffed and let my long hair waver in front of my eyes. Marc slowly made his way over to me, and pressed a knee against the lower cushion that held me up. His body, hunched over mine, was too much for me to ignore. I twisted my face around to greet his with ease. His eyes showed only a dull look of depression and confusion. He was hiding something from me, but I wasn’t going to ask what. Not yet. “I have to go to work, the car is waiting for me outside.” he whispered just loud enough for me to hear. My throat burned as I shot my lips forward to plant a kiss against that of his own. He smiled through it and returned the gesture, our mouths moving slow and paced. He broke the bond gradually, eyes still closed as he stiffened away from me.He gave me a short smile before walking off, and disappearing inside my apartment.

I didn’t hear him leave however, because I was too focused on something else.

My mother.

It was in fact my birthday, but my mother hadn’t ever cared enough to get me anything on my birthday once I moved away from her. Not even a phone call. I pressed my face into the pillows below me and started to cringe at the thought of seeing my mother. It had been years. Would I recognize her still? Of course you’ll recognize her. She is your mother after all.I told myself. I tried not to think hard about it, because my anxiety was already at it’s peak.

But I did miss her. Maybe seeing her would be okay.

*  *  *

S**t. S**t. S**t. S**t. I groaned as I rolled out of the balcony chair. It was two in the afternoon. I sneered bitterly as the bright sun blinded me when I tried to open my eyes. Throwing a hand up to block the rays I was pelted in the stomach by a small furry beast; Buster. He had certainly grown from when I first “obtained” him, and I was proud of the fact. He gave me that sort of doggy grin and brushed his chilling wet nose against the back of my other hand, motioning for me to get up. I obliged to his wishes quickly scampered through my apartment. I threw myself into the bathroom and peered into the mirror. The lofty bags under my eyes showed nothing but a discontent lifestyle and late nights. My hair was greatly unkempt and had knot after knot. Long and dangly it reached just down at mid-spine. I brushed my dainty fingers through it slowly and grabbed at my tooth brush, resting the back end in my mouth as I searched for toothpaste.

I brushed vigorously at my teeth as I stared at my reflection. Across the pond there was nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe a few freckles spread across my cheek bones. Maybe a few more eye lashes. Maybe a smile, maybe not. I couldn’t tell. I was greatly exasperated, and I couldn’t make out much of anything in my reflection. Everything was ordinary… aside from the holes in my ears large enough to fist a quarter and half inside them.

Once I was done with that I tried to do something with the mess of my hair but decided I’d just put it up in a messy bun. I stepped into the main room and kicked my feet into some shoes, and then struggled to slide into some pants after I realized one did come before the other. I smiled a bit and jogged into my closet. Buster was barking and tugging at my pant leg in protest, fearful I’d change my outfit like usual.

“I know I know.. calm down boy I’m coming. " I grabbed a coat and bent down to secure his leash. Once that was complete he tugged forcefully at my arm and almost yanked me to the floor as he trucked towards the door. Following with shaky foot steps what I was doing finally fit in my brain.

I was in fact going to see my mother. No ifs, ands, or buts, it was happening. What also hit me was I was now twenty-three years old and scared of visiting the one that birthed and sheltered me for about nine months. Buster barked and wiggled his behind roughly, tail smacking against my leg whenever he stopped to shove his nose into a stranges pocket or their leg once we were outside. I tried to pay attention to the streets we walked and the people we past but my brain was all over the place. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was something I suffered from a lot lately. Social anxiety and the feeling of complete disgust whenever I walked down the street.

I figured it had something to do with constantly being around Marc and his sour tongue but there wasn’t really a way of knowing. Maybe it had to do with me and my own problems. I agreed to seeing my mother for Marc. Not myself. I had failed to mention my mother was a recovering alcoholic and drug abuser to him however. Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have been so keen on picking up my phone last night. Alas, I was already doing what I told myself I’d never do. Multiple things even. One more couldn’t hurt.

I arrived at her house after about an hour of walking. Feet sore and pained I stood outside the old rusted gate, and peered at the more gothic styled house. The grass was lengthy and brown, weeds and dandelions covering the entire vicinity. The walkway leading up to the steps was cracked and worn, erosion showing first hand what a matter of years could do. The porch seemed to be in a fair condition from where I stood. The wood was split in a few places, and stained with mold and each 2x4 placed a bit unevenly. There were flower pots set outside filled with roses and lilacs to try and detract from how awful the rest of the house looked.

The condition of the flowers were really the own sign that anyone might have lived in the house at all. I tugged at the rusted black gate and slowly pushed it forwards hearing the sick sound of old metals rubbing against one another. Buster tucked his tail behind me and refused to budge. I stared at him a bit before roughly jerking at his leash. He whimpered  louder and slowly followed behind me. Nearly tripping me up the stairs I flashed him an irritated look and questioned the intelligence level of a dog before I extended my arm to knock on the front door.

“Hello, Isabelle.” the voice was familiar but the keeper was not. Long, long ragged grey hair was parted atop the women's skull, her facial features more worn and aged than I had originally expected. Her lips were wrinkled and pruned, along with her long fingers and cheeks. Her limbs were a bit more slender, and her freckles, that matched mine, were no longer vibrant. My heart began to race as I felt my eyes begin to widen, and air become a bit more trapped inside my body. I squeezed Busters leash as I was taken aback by the woman positioned in front of me.

Buster began barking and growling defensively as he stood behind me, fur starting to prickle along his spinal cord.

“Isabelle? Are you alright?” she said again. I started to blink rapidly and managed to nod quickly a few times to assure her everything was fine. “Come come, come inside and see what I have for you. It’s your twenty-third birthday of course.” she smiled. Her teeth were well kept and straight just as they had been before, a bit stained from the smoking and alcohol but still pleasant at first glance. I slowly dragged myself inside the house and gleamed. My mother wasn’t my mother anymore. She was a completely different person.

Once we were inside her house I examined the new furniture and the new paintings hung all across the walls. Each one had a different meaning to my mother, but I was never able to truly understand how a tomato could represent “peace on earth” as she had once said to me. Buster defensively made way into the house, ears down and sensitive to the noises he whimpered and whined as his nostrils, like my own, were clogged with new scents and aromas.

“What’s his name” my mother said, breaking my attention. I looked away from Buster and watched her calmly before speaking.

“Buster.”

“That’s a good one, he definitely looks like the type who breaks everything he touches.” she joked lightly giving me a large smile. Always knowing my weakness for cheesy comedy I couldn’t help but give a weary smile. I dropped his leash and followed her into the kitchen, where I found a cake resting on the counter with my name on it in cursive lettering. I felt a short smile dig deep into my facial features, my teeth showing and awe, as I grinned at the desert.

“Happy Birthday!” my mother shouted a bit, ticking off Buster who began barking from the other room. I gave a weak laugh of amusement, but it quickly turned into empty noise. I settled briefly, looking to the floor and my shoes as a piece of loose hair dangled from in front of my face.

“Hey Mom…” I said quickly. “Will you cut my hair for me?” I hesitated knowing it was a random question. She blinked for a moment, my present in her hands. “Of course.” she grinned, her high cheekbones giving her a look of pure enjoyment. She handed me the box and motioned for me to take a seat at the table.

“Open it first.” she started, walking away to get the clippers. The anticipation was in fact eating me away so I wasted no time. Ripping off the wrapping paper, covered in bears and balloons a stack of books was revealed. Photobooks to be exact. Every picture I had taken, and or tried to take ever since I was a little girl. With that a few of some old family photos and get togethers. Everything was there. Organized evenly and put together into a number of albums. “Why do you want your hair cut anyway?” My mother began as she walked into the room. I flashed her a look and shrugged, eyes still locked on my gift. I opened the first book and stared at the failed pictures of birds and grass I took when I was about four, a sour smile folding across my cheeks.

“Is it for that boy who answered your phone?” she said mockingly. I almost swallowed my tongue as I started to think about Marc. I had completely forgotten he had picked up my phone when she called.

“No” I lied.

“Then what it is for?” she smirked, pulling my hair out of it’s messy bun. I thought for a short moment, clicking my foot against the floor nervously as I thought about all the things I could say. Everything led back to Marc.

“I just want to show someone that it's okay to lose your hair.”