Jaded

A few weeks had gone by and most clean-up from the earthquake was finished. None of us endured much damage, but San Francisco was another story. The Bay Bridge had partly collapsed, buildings were demolished, side walks were cracked, and few were still missing; one could only assume that they are dead. Mike, Billie Joe, Sarah, and I had spent our weekends helping Gilman get back up and running. The foundation had gone off kilter and some things needed repairing.

The trees were growing naked as their leaves fell to the ground and Halloween was just days away. Yes, I just described the arrival of Fall by stating the trees were growing naked. You see, one Halloween my parents and Mike's thought it would be nice to take us to Disney and on the drive down to Southern California we would yell "naked tree!" every time we saw a bare tree. It became an inside joke with us ever since.

In the spirit of Halloween events had seemed to be shaping into the eeriness of the holiday. My mom had turned into a walking zombie and mad women. Seriously. Part of me suspects that her and Dan may be doing drugs, but I don't think my mind is allowing me to believe it.

Oh and in other news: Sarah moved back home with her Mom and Mike and her were dating.

It was six o'clock in the evening and I was walking home from school. I had received yet another detention for skipping. It seemed to of become a delicacy with me. I went in the kitchen and made a vegetarian friendly cheese sandwich with pickles and extra mustard, whilst slamming the condiments back in their place in the process for dinner. I'd been so tense lately. I've done shit for work in school, all I do is lock myself in my room, and I'm shocked that people even still converse with me, because I snap at them at the sound of them breathing. I'm getting some amazing teenage angst filled song writing in, which is a plus as always.

I went up in my room and went mad on Mike's old bass that he had lent me. I considered inditing a band rehearsal, but the problem was was that the phone was all the way downstairs and I was upstairs. Damn my lazy ass.

I decided to go take a shower. Sitting with warm water plastering my face always calmed me down.

In the midst of my shower I nearly cut myself shaving when I heard banging on the bathroom door. I felt like I might open the door to find the Gestapo on the other fucking side. It turned out to be my mother. Same difference.

"What-what-what?!" I yelled wrapping a towel around my naked body and opening the door.

"I need you to dye my hair," she said with a plastic grocery bag filled with a box of dye dangling.

I closed my eyes and pursed my lip "Can't I finish my shower first?"

"No. I want it done now," she managed to say without raising her voice, but in compensation she had that demon grin on her face, which told me she meant business.

I closed the door and finished up my half shaven leg as my silent form of rebellion. As I turned off the water the insane banging returned as she yelled for me to get my ass out and do her fucking hair.

I managed to slip on a dirty black tank top and boxer shorts before it seemed like she would knock down the door.

In the process of dying her hair I confirmed in my mind that she was in fact on something. I hadn't been this close to my mom physically in months. Her skin gave off a pale yellowish tint and smell of booze seemed to be airing out of her pores and her skin looked as if she had rolled in grease. It wasn't due to lack of showering either, because I remember hearing her in the shower that morning. When I went to do the front of her hair her eyes literally had black bags underneath. All her and Dan did was sleep and she appeared in no make-up. Her pupils were dilated almost to the point of where her deep blue eyes were hidden and she had what looked like red lightening bolts surrounding her pupil.

"Samantha, I have a little story to tell you," she said looking me straight in the eye.

My face read "?"

"You know your dad?"

"Yes...?"

"He wasn't your real dad,"

I dropped the tube of dye. My hands felt as if the muscles had been ripped out of them. My hearing instantly faded, my vision became distorted, and my stomach felt like it was rising up my esophagus.

"What?" I questioned again tilting my head eying my mother directly in those ill drive eyes.

"He wasn't your real dad. I lied all these years. I don't know who your real dad is. Let's not talk about it though. I'm just glad that I finally told you," she said with no form of remorse or guilt in her voice.

I still stood there with my symptoms of shock rising.

"Aren't you going to finish?" she asked. She has fucking rage in her voice about her hair, but nothing about my dad. She made it seem like we were talking about the weather or the changing of the seasons.

"Dye your own fucking hair," I said picking the bottle of dye and chucking it at her like a child playing with firecrackers that you throw on concrete.

As I went to leave the bedroom I felt a set of nails dig into my right shoulder like I was a piece of board being used for construction. It wasn't my mother, It was Dan. Where the fuck he came from I don't know, but he appeared like a spring shower; without any notice

"Apologize to your mother," he said turning me to face him. His eyes gave the same piercing appearance as my mothers.

"Fuck you," I said trying to escape his grasp, but he held on tighter.

With his other hand he grabbed a hanger that rested on the dresser. He flung it back and then across my face, sticking the point of it in my neck. Then again on my back. The pain felt like bee's stinging my back over and over again, but I didn't shed one tear. I wasn't going to show him I was weak.As for my mother; she stood there watching him like it was a baseball game.

I headed for the front door.

"Where the hell do you think your going?" My mom asked following me.

"Out of this fucking insanity,"

"Oh, no your not," she said carrying out the 'oh'.

"Oh, but I am" I said mimicking the 'oh' "I don't know what the fuck you and your junkie of a boyfriend are up to, but I'm out."

She swung at me across the face just like Dan had, but with her hand. I went for the door knob.

"Mom, you need help. I'm going to Billie Joe's until you can get some sense and get rid of this scumbag,"

Instead of swinging at me she grabbed me by the throat and pinned me up against the front door. My mom looked weak and even though I was about four inches taller the her, she seemed stronger then an ox and my 5'11 height didn't faze her the least bit at the moment. I hung there like a reef on the front door for the holidays. Her grip increased and my hands were now wrapped around hers. I looked directly in her eyes. I wanted her to look into mine so she knew I wasn't going to die down.

"You want to go to Billie Joe's so fucking bad" She began barely moving her lips and her eyes now the size of golf balls displaying her high quite visibly she was inches away from my face "then you can fucking live there!" she spat. The stale smell of her decaying breath filled my nostrils "pack your shit," she said throwing me down.

I sat there for a moment. My mind played as if it were a tape. I rewound back to when my dad was alive and she used to sit me on her lap and we'd watch TV and she would play with my hair. To when we went to Disney Land for the first time. To when we would bake cookies at Christmas and decorate Easter eggs at Easter. Pause went the tape in my head and the present reality resumed.

I sprinted up to my room and started grabbing anything my hands could grasp. I emptied out my book bag and filled it with clothes, records, and little money I had stashed away I stuck in the elastic of my boxers.

"You know what?" my mom said nearly making jump out of my skin to my unawareness of her presence. My first assumption was she was going to apologize. I waited for her to continue.

"I bought you the stuff in this room, so I own it,"

Before I could state that I had withheld a job and did in fact buy most of my own things in rebuttal, she reached for the bag and threw it against the wall the same way I did with the hair dye. She grabbed my arm and pushed me towards the stairs. I caught my balance and then bolted for the door. I ran out without even bothering to close it. I ran to Billie Joe's as if the house was a vacuum that would suck me back in. I didn't even know what I was feeling, or what I should be. I never imagined things getting like this.

I opened the window and climbed through landing on Mike and Sarah who were sitting on the bed.

"What the fuck Sam?" Mike said pushing him off Sarah and himself.

"What happened to you?" Billie Joe said sticking the butt of his cigarette in an old plastic cup that resided on his night stand. He then got up and started walking towards me.

"Is that blood?" Sarah asked.

I sat on the ground in the middle of the room with my knees raised to my chin and my hair draping in my face.

"Sam what happened?" Billie Joe said placing his hands on my shoulders and kneeling down to my level. Mike and Sarah sat on th edge of the bed silently awaiting an answer.

"Just some shit went down," I said looking towards the left of Billie Joe into his closet.

"I'm going to go get some band-aids and stuff," said Mike.

"No, Mike it's not a big deal,"

"Sam, your back and neck is all cut up and bruised and you came in here hysterical,"

I told them all what happened at my house and my suspicions with my mom and Dan's drug use.

"That bastard!" Mike raged "we should call the cops,"

"No," I said.

"Sam that prick beat you!"

I looked over at Sarah for help in a response. She knew where I was coming from.

"Guys, just let her" she started and then gave me another glance "let her hope right now,"

Mike and Billie Joe both gave her dazzled looks, but didn't over-step anything.

"You can stay here," Billie Joe said confidently.

"Can I borrow some clothes?" I asked.

"Yeah," Billie Joe got up throwing me an XXL CBGB's shirt that was his older brothers who thankfully was thankfully 6'4. The shirt went down to the mid section of my thigh barely displaying I had boxers on.

"I can't believe your just cool with this,"Billie Joe sporadicly said a few moments later "I mean your the one who got fired from a job because some chick spilled coffee on you and you beat the shit out of her and with this your just like 'whatever'"

"I'm still alive," was all I said.