Skin and Bones

I’m putting on my own clothes – well, my own clean boxers and t-shirt. Mrs. Way washed my clothes, but since I’ve only got my tight jeans, I keep Mikey’s sweats on for comfort.
I dry my hair one last time before I leave the bathroom. I have no idea what I look like, but I’m guessing I look better by the look on Mrs. Way’s face when she sees me coming down the hallway.

“Oh my! There was a boy underneath all that dirt,” she exclaims and I can’t help but giggle. She turns around and walks into the kitchen, and I follow. She picks up a tray of cookies and milk – how classic – and carries it into the dark living room. The kitchen is brighter, since it’s windows are facing their garden – which is fenced and has a huge lock on the gate – but the living room, believe it or not, is cozier.

We sit on the couch and she gestures at me to dig in to the treats. I pick up a glass and a cookie and lean back in the couch. I carefully take the first bite of the cookie – making sure that all the crumbs fall into the milk.

“Don’t worry about the couch, sweety. All three men in this house have already ruined it plenty.” I grin slightly, but still hold the cookie over the glass.

To my surprise, the cookie goes down fairly easy, but I’m sure the milk helps to that factor.
I carefully put the glass back on the tray, but as I move my hand away I accidentally knock it over and the content splash out all over the tray and table. The white liquid quickly spreads and begins to flow over the edge and onto the floor. I drop down on my knees and panic.

“It’s okay, honey. Here,” Mrs. Way says and passes me a tissue-box. I quickly grab it and pull out the little, thin pieces of paper and try to stop it all.
“I’ll get some paper towels,” she says as she leaves. I keep trying to stop the milk from spreading, but the tissues are just too thin and get soaked as soon as they touch the liquid.

Mrs. Way returns and throws a dishcloth onto the floor, before she starts pulling long rows of paper towels off the roll. I grab the dishcloth and press it against the forming stain on the carpeted floor.
It’s then I realize that my breath is fast and unsteady. I feel like I can’t breathe – that something is stuck in my throat.

“Sweety,” Mrs. Way says softly. I keep pressing the cloth into the carpet – putting my entire body weight onto my arms.
“Frank.” This time her voice is a bit more firm, but still incredibly soft. She presses her long fingers to my chin and pushes my head up. I look at her. She looks so sympathetic.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s okay.” I just stare at her. Her eyes aren’t big, but the deep-brown color in them makes the lump in my throat slowly glide down and settle somewhere between my chest and belly.

Mrs. Way looks down at the carpet. So do I. The cloth has sucked up some of the liquid, but I know there’s still more. I press my body weight against it again.
When I pull back, I somehow twist my body and wince at the pain it causes my ribs.

“What did she do to you?” I quickly look up at Mrs. Way. I’m scared to admit it, but also scared to hold it in – like if I do, I’ll explode.

“She drinks,” I whisper, before I even think about an answer. It just sorta slips.
I hear the front door open and talking enters the silent room.

“You’re such a wimp,” Gerard sighs mockingly. I swallow and look down – breaking eye contact with Mrs. Way.

“Shut up!” Mikey yells and stomps into the house.

“Hello, boys!”

“Hi, mom. What’s up?” Mikey asks. I let go of the cloth and lean back on my feet – my heels digging into my ass.
“Frank! You’re up!” I slowly raise my head and look up at the two brothers. In the dim light, it’s easier to see the resemblance.

“Yeah, he is,” Mrs. Way answers for me.
“Why don’t you boys go down to Gerard’s room and play some video-games, huh?” I look up at her, but she just nods her head towards the brothers. I smile back apologetically.

“Yeah. Come on, Frankie,” Mikey says.