Corruption

There was only a sliver of the moon that night. I watched as clouds made in invisible for periods of time, then let it be seen once again by anyone who would be stupid enough to look at it. Eventually the sun came through, blocking out the moons dull glow, replacing it with a pink, yellow, and orange sky. The clouds disappeared with the night.

It wasn't like I could have fallen asleep if I had wanted to. I was some what regretting what I had done. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to call up Gloria. She just seemed like the person like that could help me with what I needed for my mom. She said she was capable of taking care of a drunk no problem.

Her competence wasn't the thing that I was worried about. Gloria would have to be over at my house at least ten hours a day so she can keep an eye on my mom. How would I be able to handle such a thing with her here and reminding me so much of Candace?

What was I thinking anyway? Inviting Gloria here to help me with my problems, that was a stupid move. She would never come. Yes, she said she would be here by morning, but how exactly? Was it a bad move to expose my mom to such a person even if she seemed to be safe like the others?

That was why I was surprised when a silver Cobra pulled into the driveway.

My body stiff from lying on the roof of the house all night long, I stretched, watching Gloria get out of the car. She went around to the back, got out a very small bag, and looked up at me on the roof.

Without looking away, she put her bag down on the roof of the car, jumped up onto the roof, and sat down next to me. Neither of us said anything at first.

I kept my gaze away from her, looking anywhere but her. She was in a simple jeans and T-shirt, able to pull off without even trying to. Her short black hair was perfectly straight and perfectly smooth even though she must have taken a long flight.

"That's just the thing," Gloria whispered, "I didn't take a plane."

I looked down at the car in the driveway.

She shook her head. "Just rented it down the road. I figured showing up on foot wouldn't be appropriate."

I turned away from her, trying kept all the comment I wanted to say out loud, inside my mind. Maybe this was a mistake. What was I thinking?

"Where is your mom?" she asked, going to my bedroom window and opening it up. She didn't wait for me as she went into my bedroom, down the hallway, and into my mother's bedroom. I followed her without asking any questions even though I really didn't know if I wanted the answers to them.

Gloria glanced at me after assessing my mother's motionless body on the bed. The covers had been thrown off her during the night as she thrashed during a nightmare. The towels that had been covering her up were now crumpled on the floor all red and blotchy. My mom's self-inflicted marks were now visible to anyone, red and blazing with infection.

I didn't say anything. What could I say to what Gloria was seeing? My mother was killing herself. What could anyone possible say to a stranger that didn't know the situation at hand?

Gloria went to work immediately, grabbing the towels and disappearing through the bathroom door at normal speed. She came back with a brown bottle and wash cloth. Without even jostling my mom, she climbed onto the queen bed and delicately pulled my mom's arm closer to her.

She ducked her head down and studied her work as she dabbed at my mom's wounds with a wet washcloth. She poured the contents of the brown bottle over the small cuts, dabbing at them again.

I watched from the doorway. My only movements were my breathing and occasional blinking. I had told Gloria what had needed to be done, nor what had really happened. She must have just known. She seemed to do that a lot; just know.

When Gloria was finished cleaning my mom's wounds, she stayed on the bed and watched my mom sleep. Her eyes got softer over time, less "on the alert" and more taking it all in. A smile crept to her lips as it did my mom's.

I started to panic, thinking my mom was awake, but she was still sleeping; dreaming maybe.

Gloria looked up at my sudden panicked face, coming to my side. "Let's go downstairs." She whispered. She pulled me out into the hall and closed the door behind her. Her fingers were icy like they always were. I tried not to shutter as her delicate fingers did not release my hand, bringing me downstairs and into the kitchen.

"You look exhausted." She said in a normal voice.

I sat down on the couch. Gloria did not follow suit, but looked outside at the waking street. People were taking their dogs out to go to the bathroom, others leaving early for work. I blinked and almost forgot how to open my eyes again. I hadn't sleep a second last night. How could someone never sleep? The creatures that Candace hung around with…

"If I could, I would." Gloria whispered to the glass. She turned to face me, her eyes sad and wary. "I know why you hate me so much. You have to understand something though…" she came to sit next to me on the couch, but I moved away, not really wanting to get into this right now. "I'm not some murderer that you think I am."

I laughed then. It was unintentional, but yet strangely satisfying. I hadn't laughed in so long. I hadn't actually meant Gloria to be in that category of the creatures that I call demons. But if I thought about it, she was just the same as the rest of them. I had never really taken Gloria to be the demon type.

Gloria faced me. She tried to meet my gaze, but I stared down at my hands.

All she said was, "Oh,"

I smiled then, trying to keep my thoughts to myself. I understood her now. She could tap into my mind, hear whatever she wanted to. Some of things I would have to try and keep some of my thoughts quiet when she was around.

A smile ended up crawling onto Gloria's face as well. "You don't have to be thinking about it for me to hear. I could go and listen to your thoughts from a month ago, from eighteen years ago. I can hear things you can't remember but are back inside your mind too deep for you to reach. However, I can reach them just fine."

I laughed. This was all too crazy.

Gloria sat down next to me, her eyes on my shoulder. "Why don't you talk to Candace about your family?" She did not look up from my shoulder, even though my shirt covered it.

I looked there too, almost seeing the scar beneath the cloth. I had wanted to tell Candace about my parents before she left, but I felt like she was just under too much stress. She hadn't really talked to me for weeks always avoided topics that had anything to do with either one of our families, and just seemed liked she was drifting. I hadn't felt like I could trust her with al of it.

Now, I felt like she couldn't handle it. She would blame herself of course. Maybe she would tell herself that it was her fault for leaving me alone, and her fault for making me come back her to endure more. It was what Candace did. She didn't think very highly of herself, and she thought very highly of others. That was why she always blamed things on herself, never believing that someone she loved could do what they actually are capable of.

"She means well." Gloria said. Her cold fingers touched my elbow. When I didn't flinch away, her fingers trailed up my arm and lifted my sleeve to reveal the scar. She cool fingers placed the slightest pressure on the spot, soothing the constant ache.

I closed my eyes and let her examine my now closed wound. When I tried to open my eyes again, I found I couldn't do it. My body was too exhausted to deal with anything right now. I didn't fall asleep now. Gloria's cool fingers kept me alert as I only felt her.

Her other hand grabbed my wrist and lifted my arm onto her lap. The scars on my arm from Marissa shone in the bright light of the morning. Gloria traced these next, her fingers soothing.

She sighed a deep and heart-filled sigh.

I opened my mouth to say something, but fought against it. I ached for Candace more than anything, but Gloria was somehow easing that pain, dulling it more than I could have ever dreamed.

A sudden mental picture of me reaching and grabbing Gloria's chin, bringing her closer to me, feeling her soft glossy skin, our lips touching…

This made my eyes snap open. I turned my body to face Gloria, moving away from her on the small couch. She did not look up at me, but kept my arm her lap, trailing her fingers along my skin. She seemed to be in deep thought, not even paying any attention.

What had gotten into me. The ache for Candace came back in a flood of emotion and pain. I kept still though, watching Gloria investigate every inch of my skin on my arm. When she stopped, her cold hands rested on my arm, holding it there. Her face tilted to the side and up to stare at me.

"I was going through your memories." She admitted. She didn't seem ashamed.

I waited for her to continue, but she didn't. "Why?"

"You aren't happy." It wasn't a statement, but an accusation. "I don't mean like most people, but truly and remarkably unhappy. I've never felt so much hurt in my life."

I stared back, slightly confused. I wasn't, like, on a suicide mission or anything. So many people are unhappier than I can ever remember being.

Her fingers started to trail my arm again. I tried to pull away from her, but she held firm. "Just a minute…"

I waited, my eyes no longer trying to close themselves. I was the one trying to close them now. They held open to stare at Gloria, her small and fragile body sitting next to me on the small couch. Her black hair was falling in strands in front of her face.

I felt the urge to brush them behind her ear for her.

"At this moment, I'm sure you won't be mad at me. But…" Gloria smiled, her eyes still fixed on my arm. "When you came back from Portland the first time, I followed you. I heard your thoughts, knew what you wanted to do. I wasn't sure if you were going to do it though. I followed you everywhere, and saw everything you keep even from yourself. And that story you told Candace before, about the time you got back and how your dad left, you made it better than it really was."

She sighed and her hands fell away from my arm. I didn't pull away from her though. I kept my arm where it was, staring at the scars like she was.

"You try to hide who you truly are from people because you believe that all of this is your problem and not anyone else's." She laughed. It was like a bell chiming close to my ear. "I saw when you were four, and you spilled your glass of milk all of the table and onto the floor. You wouldn't let your mom clean it up because you were the one to spill it. You said it was your problem, not your mom's."

Her fingers brushed against my arm as she brought them up to tuck the strands of hair behind her ear. "Even when you were little you took responsibility for everything that wasn't yours. Yes, that did show that you grew up fast, but I also saw something else." She paused, her fingers tracing the lines on my palm.

My arm was extended out to her in an awkward way so I scooted closer to her, her breath now filling my lungs.

Even though you have told yourself other wise, you were a very bright kid. You never missed anything. You saw when your parents started to fight on the day of your fifth birthday. You noticed then that your mom was gone a lot, never home when she was supposed to be. You never believed your father when he told you that your mom was working because you knew that she had lost her job.

"Then you met Candace."

I flinched at her name, but Gloria wasn't fazed. "Candace helped you with everything, helped you clear your head and only think positive. She was the person that made you who you are today. Candace would think positive about everything, and was always happy. It rubbed off on you. You became the bubbly fun -loving guy you were a few years ago.

"Then you noticed something about your mom. She wasn't coming or going in her own car. She was using a car that you knew very well. That Candace knew very well. She never found out, but you did. You realized that your mother and her father were having an affair."

My fist reflexively balled up into a tight fist. My scars bulged like never before as I tried to hold it together. I wanted her to go now, leave and never come back. It wasn't right. She wasn't right. She couldn't know that. No one but three people knew that. My father hadn't even known. I had completely pushed that out of my mind and had never thought of it till now.

I tried to pull my arm away from her so I could be the one to leave, but she caught it in her vise grip. Her tone was calm and like a whisper as it had been this whole time. "And now that she is gone, all of the anger seeps out because you can't have her help to keep you together. You fuel yourself like you did before she came. You fuel on anger and rage, just like you are doing right now. The anger is the only thing that is keeping you together right now. You know that your mother's insanity is because Nathan left. You know all of this. You just keep lying to yourself and try not to blame anyone because you feel like the person to blame is yourself. You try to take responsibility for everything and everyone."

She placed her hand on top of my balled fist just as I stood from the couch. She came with me, her fingers pulling apart my fist finger by finger. "You can't take responsibility for this one, not this time."

She finished with a squeeze of my hand before she dropped it to my side. For a few seconds, I refrained from curling my fingers back up, but it didn't last long. My mom came rushing down the stairs in her satin bathrobe. Her gaze fell on Gloria, then to me.

"Who the hell are you?" She asked.

I stepped forward. It was hard to find words in my mind, but I managed to say, "A friend Mom."

Gloria stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Gloria. I called before."

My mom stood still for a moment, then smiled. "Right, I remember. Will you be staying for lunch?"

Gloria smiled back. "I would love too, thank you."

My mom looked at me. "Why don't you make lunch for your friend while I shower and get dressed. Don't burn yourself." He back upstairs and slammed the door of her bedroom.

Don't burn yourself…that was nice. I rubbed the burn on my chest, feeling it's sting again.

"How did you do that?" I asked, staring at where mom had just been standing.

She tapped her forehead. "It's all in the mind." She laughed then. "Why don't you go make some lunch, I'll help. But I'll handle the things on the stove. We don't want you to burn yourself." She laughed again, her eyes closing for just a fraction of a second.

She seemed to calm me. How she could just take control and how sure she was of herself, it was nice. I smiled. "Whatever you say."