Status: In progress
Rom
Three
He had soiled himself again.
"Oh, gosh. Y'made a mess again, didn't ya?"
Brad nodded slowly, an innocent smile spreading across his face.
Bless his heart. He didn't do anything wrong. He wasn't drunk that night.
It wasn't his fault that he was like this. It was hers. It was her fault and her cross to bear.
Gennifer sighed, squatted down, and removed his dirty underwear. She pushed his rusted wheelchair towards the bathroom and swore as he fell out.
"Oh, dear. I'm sorry Bradley. I didn't mean for you to fall out! Here, let me help you back in."
It really helped that he was as tall as she was at 5'5'', but weighed half as much as she did. It made a lot of things easier.
She cleaned up after him and sprayed some Febreeze to mask the smell. Then she hurried down to the kitchen to scrounge something up for breakfast.
They were low on food, and low on money. Brad's medical bills were piling up, and she had half a mind to turn him over to the state. But she would feel guilty and wholly responsible. Because she was responsible.
Grant stumbled in. Ten in the morning, and he already reeked of Busche. He slid into a chair, threw a crumpled napkin in Brad's direction, and looked expectantly at her.
"What's for breakfast?"
There was some expired pancake mix in a cupboard, a bag of coffee grounds underneath the oven, and a small package of bacon in their small fridge.
Gennifer knew that she should give Bradley the bacon because his iron count was always dangerously low. But, she also knew that if she didn't give it to Grant, he'd probably bring a couple of his friends around at night to "play" - like he did the last time.
Turning the stove on, she knew who that bacon would go to. She hoped it would be enough for now. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if Brad's iron count was low.
"Oh, gosh. Y'made a mess again, didn't ya?"
Brad nodded slowly, an innocent smile spreading across his face.
Bless his heart. He didn't do anything wrong. He wasn't drunk that night.
It wasn't his fault that he was like this. It was hers. It was her fault and her cross to bear.
Gennifer sighed, squatted down, and removed his dirty underwear. She pushed his rusted wheelchair towards the bathroom and swore as he fell out.
"Oh, dear. I'm sorry Bradley. I didn't mean for you to fall out! Here, let me help you back in."
It really helped that he was as tall as she was at 5'5'', but weighed half as much as she did. It made a lot of things easier.
She cleaned up after him and sprayed some Febreeze to mask the smell. Then she hurried down to the kitchen to scrounge something up for breakfast.
They were low on food, and low on money. Brad's medical bills were piling up, and she had half a mind to turn him over to the state. But she would feel guilty and wholly responsible. Because she was responsible.
Grant stumbled in. Ten in the morning, and he already reeked of Busche. He slid into a chair, threw a crumpled napkin in Brad's direction, and looked expectantly at her.
"What's for breakfast?"
There was some expired pancake mix in a cupboard, a bag of coffee grounds underneath the oven, and a small package of bacon in their small fridge.
Gennifer knew that she should give Bradley the bacon because his iron count was always dangerously low. But, she also knew that if she didn't give it to Grant, he'd probably bring a couple of his friends around at night to "play" - like he did the last time.
Turning the stove on, she knew who that bacon would go to. She hoped it would be enough for now. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if Brad's iron count was low.