See Jack Run
Chapter 16
Mikey and Jack sat on opposite sides of Mommy while she read them the story of Cinderella.
"Mommy, do all princesses start out like that?" Jack asked when the story was over.
"You're not a princess." Mikey said, and he saw Jack's face fall.
"Honey, you can be a princess if you want to be. If you really want to be like Cinderella, you can set the table for dinner."
"Okay."
Jack got up and left. Mikey followed her. When she went to their room, he smiled. No Mommy, no rules. Jack could scream all she wanted, and nobody would notice or care.
"You're not a princess. You'll never be a princess. You're not good enough to be a princess." Mikey sneered at her.
He had expected her to cry. She was only three, and she was easily hurt. Her eyes became unusually bright, but other than that, she didn't give him the reaction he wanted.
He went over to her and slapped her, shaking free the tears that had been captive in her eyes.
Jack forced herself to detach. She ordered her mind to leave the room, and go to a place where she really was a princess, where her tears were diamonds, her blood was rubies, her bruises were amethysts and saphires under her skin.
She was a princess now, away from pain, away from the treacherous prince who was Mikey. She sparkled and shone, and she was so beautiful that she glittered, and that banished away all the bruises, tears, blood and sadness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Teach me."
Mikey was next to Gerard, watching him draw. He wanted to be like Gerard so much, a desire deeper than anything, an urge so passionate that he isolated himself within it.
Gerard patiently taught Mikey how to in one point perspective, about primary and seconday colors, about spacial relationships. And, just because Mikey had the passion to be like Gerard didn't mean that he could draw like him.
He grew more and more frustrated that he couldn't get the desired effect.
"I can't do it!" He wailed, his face flushed and his lips trembling.
"Take lessons from a professional. Then you'll get it."Gerard assured him calmly.
But Mikey saw right through that. Gerard didn't want to teach him. He told him to take lessons because he didn't love him. Mikey began to cry as he walked up to his room.
Jack was sitting on her bed, calmly doing her homework. She looked up abruptly, startled by Mikey's entrance.
It hurt her almost as badly as a punch or slap to see Mikey cry.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
Through Mikey's gasping, all she could make out was "Doesn't.....love......"
She hugged him, but he pulled away from her grasp.
"I don't need your sympathy." He hissed. Jack backed away.
There was a thick, stifling silence in the room. Mikey picked up a pencil and a piece of paper and tried over and over again to draw something that looked like a monkey.
"What am I doing wrong?" He muttered constantly.
Jack knew better than to try to help him. It wasn't worth it to reach out.
So she left. Jack entered the basement. A portion of it had been turned into Gerard's art studio.
"Is Mikey okay? He seemed kind of upset when he left." He said without looking away from his paper. Jack looked at the drawing. It was the monkey that Mikey had tried to draw.
"He's kind of...having a temper tantrume. But he'll be okay." Jack answered honestly. That was probably the first time she had talked about him truthfully in a very long time.
"Why does he get so worked up about little stuff? I thought that an actual teacher might be able to help him more, and he looked like he was going to cry when I said it."
"Maybe a real teacher scares him."
That was one of many of the half truths and lies she said about him.
Gerard shrugged.
"What are you drawing?" Jack asked.
"The Breakfast Monkey."
"The what?"
"It's this concept I have for a cartoon. It's basically this monkey that's all about breakfast."
"Okay then."
"Well, look at it. If this kind of thing was on TV, would you watch it?"
"Can I be honest?"
"Sure."
"Maybe. If it sucked, I wouldn't."
"Gee, thanks."
"You wanted honesty."
He shrugged.
"Go cheer up Mikey."
"Nah. I'll stay here."
"Fine. Be quiet, then."
That was much better than returning to the room.
"Mommy, do all princesses start out like that?" Jack asked when the story was over.
"You're not a princess." Mikey said, and he saw Jack's face fall.
"Honey, you can be a princess if you want to be. If you really want to be like Cinderella, you can set the table for dinner."
"Okay."
Jack got up and left. Mikey followed her. When she went to their room, he smiled. No Mommy, no rules. Jack could scream all she wanted, and nobody would notice or care.
"You're not a princess. You'll never be a princess. You're not good enough to be a princess." Mikey sneered at her.
He had expected her to cry. She was only three, and she was easily hurt. Her eyes became unusually bright, but other than that, she didn't give him the reaction he wanted.
He went over to her and slapped her, shaking free the tears that had been captive in her eyes.
Jack forced herself to detach. She ordered her mind to leave the room, and go to a place where she really was a princess, where her tears were diamonds, her blood was rubies, her bruises were amethysts and saphires under her skin.
She was a princess now, away from pain, away from the treacherous prince who was Mikey. She sparkled and shone, and she was so beautiful that she glittered, and that banished away all the bruises, tears, blood and sadness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Teach me."
Mikey was next to Gerard, watching him draw. He wanted to be like Gerard so much, a desire deeper than anything, an urge so passionate that he isolated himself within it.
Gerard patiently taught Mikey how to in one point perspective, about primary and seconday colors, about spacial relationships. And, just because Mikey had the passion to be like Gerard didn't mean that he could draw like him.
He grew more and more frustrated that he couldn't get the desired effect.
"I can't do it!" He wailed, his face flushed and his lips trembling.
"Take lessons from a professional. Then you'll get it."Gerard assured him calmly.
But Mikey saw right through that. Gerard didn't want to teach him. He told him to take lessons because he didn't love him. Mikey began to cry as he walked up to his room.
Jack was sitting on her bed, calmly doing her homework. She looked up abruptly, startled by Mikey's entrance.
It hurt her almost as badly as a punch or slap to see Mikey cry.
"What's wrong? What happened?"
Through Mikey's gasping, all she could make out was "Doesn't.....love......"
She hugged him, but he pulled away from her grasp.
"I don't need your sympathy." He hissed. Jack backed away.
There was a thick, stifling silence in the room. Mikey picked up a pencil and a piece of paper and tried over and over again to draw something that looked like a monkey.
"What am I doing wrong?" He muttered constantly.
Jack knew better than to try to help him. It wasn't worth it to reach out.
So she left. Jack entered the basement. A portion of it had been turned into Gerard's art studio.
"Is Mikey okay? He seemed kind of upset when he left." He said without looking away from his paper. Jack looked at the drawing. It was the monkey that Mikey had tried to draw.
"He's kind of...having a temper tantrume. But he'll be okay." Jack answered honestly. That was probably the first time she had talked about him truthfully in a very long time.
"Why does he get so worked up about little stuff? I thought that an actual teacher might be able to help him more, and he looked like he was going to cry when I said it."
"Maybe a real teacher scares him."
That was one of many of the half truths and lies she said about him.
Gerard shrugged.
"What are you drawing?" Jack asked.
"The Breakfast Monkey."
"The what?"
"It's this concept I have for a cartoon. It's basically this monkey that's all about breakfast."
"Okay then."
"Well, look at it. If this kind of thing was on TV, would you watch it?"
"Can I be honest?"
"Sure."
"Maybe. If it sucked, I wouldn't."
"Gee, thanks."
"You wanted honesty."
He shrugged.
"Go cheer up Mikey."
"Nah. I'll stay here."
"Fine. Be quiet, then."
That was much better than returning to the room.