Bang Bang

It had been a week.

A week since I had last laid eyes on my mother. A week since she had died.

I had dealt with death before, ever since I was young, and even recently in fact.

Jeremy Lusk was a good friend of mine, and until recently, we thought he’d be around forever; riding his bike and making the crowd scream in awe. But one wrong move had changed everything; had turned that forever into never again. And now, he was gone.

But that wasn’t anything compared to losing your mother; your parent; the woman that birthed you.

Losing a friend was horrible, especially someone as caring as Lusk, but losing your mother…God, that was hell. And let me tell you, I could be the first one to tell you about hell.

My life wasn’t bad, I actually grew up pretty privileged, but I had done some wrong things; some things that had made my mother cry. I had dived head first into a completely crazy world; one that had dragged me down and buried me under a blanket of lust, drunkenness, and blind rage. I hated everyone; I hated everything. I was a true daredevil; a true asshole.

I had a good little tattoo spread out across my chest to remind myself of my mistakes every day. But I had grown up since first becoming pro, and it had kicked the shit out of me, in the most abusing, but mentally empowering way.

Things were so much better now; I had gotten back on my feet, settled into the right path and kept trekking on throughout the hard times, and the good too.

But now, I wasn’t so sure if I should keep going, or forget where I’m from and what happened and give it all up. It’d be so easy to drown my sorrows in the bottle, to party until I passed out cold on the floor; smoked until my heart gave out under ashy lungs.

And these feelings, they hadn’t come back in a long time. Even when I first found out, I didn’t feel this way. But today as her funeral and I had no idea if I was going to be able to make it through. At least from the way I woke up this morning, I could tell it probably wasn’t going to be a good day.

Sighing heavily, I ran my fingers through the raggy, light blonde locks that rested over the top of my head. I needed to get out of this damn house, it was stuffy and too clean, not to mention the fact that looking at pictures of my mother and me only made it harder.

Depression sank deep into the pit of my stomach as I rose to my feet and made my way to the front door, my hands greedily grabbing at the small, little things I needed to have with me anywhere I went. My car keys, wallet, and cell phone were included in these items, as well as a pack of Big Red gum.

I never understood why, but if I didn’t have these, small, insignificant, materialistic things in my pockets at all times, I seemed to lose it. And today, that feeling only maximized, considering I was already lost in my own self.

I listened to my shoes slap against the concrete, the pair of white and black Etnies creating a pounding in my head that sounded all too much like a heartbeat. But it wasn’t my shoes; it was my heartbeat, rapidly pacing itself through the course of no return. I was used to adrenaline, every time I had a game or a tour; I experienced it day in and day out. But this wasn’t like the normal adrenaline of riding, this was something else.

My head rushed around the world as I fought my way through the small crowd on the streets of Temecula, my fingers playing soft patterns in my right palm as I fisted them tightly together. The slight pain of finger nail on flesh didn’t faze me; nothing seemed to. I had set up a destination in my mind and my body was coursing its way out, nothing more, nothing less.

I couldn’t do it alone; I couldn’t survive this without support. I had friends, I had my riding buddies, and they’d be there for me, but they didn’t give me the comfort of what I needed. And what I thought I needed wasn’t truly what I needed, and I knew it deep inside of me. I wanted a bar, a good bar that would let me sit there all day; let me drink my day away. But I couldn’t make myself turn around and march back to the house. I couldn’t be there when it smelled so much like her; when it reminded me of her vibrant, caring personality.

I just couldn’t.

Resetting myself, I changed my course of direction and made my way down a side street off Humber Drive. I knew this road almost better then I knew my own, and it was only because I walked it every time I needed her. And this her wasn’t my mom, this was my girl.

My Nita.

I never knew what we officially were; we never really talked about it. But she was always there for me; she was always my support system, my lover, my fuck buddy. She was there for me through thick and thin, there for me through that period of time where I lost myself, through Jere, and now, she’d be there for me.

She had to be, because I knew I wouldn’t survive without her by my side. I wasn’t worried about crying my eyes out and letting the guys see that I was a big, fucking baby, but I was worried about losing myself. I was such a coward, always playing off laughter and perverted jokes, but I couldn’t do that here. I had to be serious; I had to be sad.

My mother was dead and I couldn’t handle it; I didn’t know how to.

But Nita would. She’d be at my side through it all, holding my hand in her delicate, soft one, our fingers laced together like they were meant to be there.

“Luke?” She asked quietly as she opened the door, her deep, brown eyes filled to the brim with tears as she stared at me in shock. “Shouldn’t you be heading to the funeral?” Her body fit snuggly into the black, lacy dress she was wearing, her feet encased in a pair of black flats that I had bought for her last Christmas. She had done her make up in simple, dark colors, her dark, black hair pulled up in the old fashioned pin-up style. You could tell she was mourning, all you had to do was look at her and know that, but she looked beautiful, even when she hurt so deeply inside.

“I can’t,” I choked out, pushing past her into the apartment, my lips smashing into her soft, pink ones as I shoved her against the wall. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this; knew it wasn’t the right thing, but I had to.

I needed her to make it go away; to make it better.

“Luke,” pressing her hand into my chest, she shoved gently. The movement wouldn’t have done anything to me, but I let it; I let it push me against the other side of the wall, my eyes glazed over with stuffed, congested tears.

I didn’t want to cry, I wanted the salt tasting liquid to stay in my tear ducts; where they belonged. Crying in itself wasn’t a big deal, but if I cried now, over this, I’d be having to admit that she was actually dead; that she was gone forever.

“Nita,” I spoke her name quietly as I grabbed her around the waist and pulled her body against my own, the center of my temple pressing into the side of her forehead. “I need you.”

She paused for a second as she stared up at me, her eyes filled with confusion and shock, before it suddenly dawned on her that I wasn’t talking about needing her body, but needing her; her support. Fuck, she could be quiet all damn day; I just needed her beside me.

I just needed her.

“We should go,” she replied, knitting her long, feminine fingers through my rough, calloused ones as she grabbed her purse off the table and lead me out the front door.

The ride over was quiet, only the soft sounds of whatever song the local hit station was currently playing radiating throughout the cars speakers. When we arrived at the cemetery, my breath caught in my throat at the amount of people who where there.

I had friends, I knew I had them, but my fucking God, there had to be at least a hundred of them here. Everyone was gathered around the burial site, waiting for the ceremony to take place. When they saw me coming, I was bombarded with king smiles and soft pats on the back, each and every one of them offering their condolences. It felt great to know that they were all there for me, even a few of them that I had only met once or twice at small gigs.

But it brought back memories from a few months ago, when we were doing the same thing, but to Lusk’s family in return. And it made me realize how every day I got older, even though I was still young, and every day I had to live my life to the fullest, because tomorrow, it just might not be there. Tomorrow, my friends might not be there.

I looked down at Nita, her soft features contorted in sadness as she watched the casket lower into the ground. And even though it was a depressing evening; a horrid event, it was okay.

Because I had her; my Nita.

And she wasn’t leaving my side.