"Blessed" with a Curse

“Alan…How did you fix this?”
I marveled at the camera in my hands. The lens worked and the screen didn’t freeze like it used to.

“My dad used to fix cameras, and he passed down some of what he learned to me.”
He had a proud smile on his face.

“Your dad must have been a great man.”

His smile fell a little.

“Yeah, he was…honestly…I waited for him to come back home. I put up with everything my mom did to me, hoping that he would come back and rescue me…”

He bit down on his lip as a tear slid down his cheek.

“When I heard…that he died, I lost it. I broke almost every vase, window, and mirror in the house. Of course, mom got mad and punished me by making me pick up every piece of broken glass with my bare hands.”
He held his hands out and showed me all of the cuts and scars.

“She even threw one of the vases at me, hitting my head. I knew my savior was gone, so I had to save myself. That was when I grabbed what I could and stuff it into a backpack, slipped my shoes on, and left the house, never wanting to return. I collapsed after an hour of walking, losing consciousness.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw you…”

He smiled again and rested his head against my shoulder.

“I never got to thank you for saving me that day…”
He pressed his lips against mine.

“Thank you…”

He got up from the bed and left the room.

I smiled and ran a hand through my hair.

He’s truly something…isn’t he?

I got up and walked to the bathroom so I could get ready for work.
I saw the razor on the sink, absentmindedly rubbing the scars on my wrist.

I took it and threw it into the trash, a wide smile on my face.

I don’t need it anymore.

“You were right, Mitch. I do have someone to look out for. And I love him very much.”