Annocemnet

Every week I will post part of a story  But I need you guys to comment. Is it good? do you want to read more? I am all ears and you control this blog.

Agony's middle name

                                                   Agony’s middle name

   The history

I always felt alone anywhere I went. At 6 I found comfort in building model planes which took up most of my time. At seven my mother found a boyfriend, Cole. C. Moore. Cole and I became very close very fast. He took me to football games, taught me to ride my bike, once he even took me fishing and I still remember that day crystal clear.

I was missing my three front teeth, they had fallen out the week before. The wind entered my mouth through the gap in my teeth as I smiled and sat on his hard squared shoulders; that were covered in a slippery, sky blue, silk shirt. We had just set our stuff down at our fishing site as we saw a huge cat fish about one yard from tip to tail jumping out of the water. I gaped  at the sight of the fish. When we got home that day something scared me, stopping me in the door way. “Richard, listen to me stay out here ok” he whispered to me. The pliable fishing pole bent under the stress of hitting the ground. A rush of cold air sent goose bumps down my arm. The hairs stood up on my legs and my neck as the already unlocked door was pushed open.  An insidious look scarred my face leaving my lips unable to move or my eyes unable to blink. Cole’s fortitude made me want to be brave like him, but I knew what had happened, and I knew what happened I would not want to see in person, I could feel it. Cole came out of the house and sat on our steps stolid to the questions I asked. “Cole, is she…” I stopped as he looked up at me. His eyes said it all, though his lips did not move. “Your mother loved you Richard” he reiterated. A tear fell it was then that I knew the death of my father was too much for her. She had over dosed on pain killers. 

           When I was 4 we were in a car accident, my father died. I had 3 surgeries to reconstruct my left lung, which still can’t do its full job to this day. My mom had minor injuries but was able to get pain meds whenever she needed. Ever since then I never spent time with my mother I was always watched by a nanny or an aunt. She never held me anymore, but how could she? It was my fault he died.

                “It’s okay, we’ll be okay” he promised but I could see he was just as hopeless as I was. Cole didn’t have children and you could tell he was learning as he went along. That night I stayed with him at his place. His place was lived in but bereft of life. My bags were placed in a small closet you couldn’t even stand in. I could hear him speaking over the phone in a dour voice “he lost his mother and his father! I’m the only thing he’s got, you can’t do that… I’ll take custody.” I couldn’t help but smile; I had never heard anyone take up for me before. When he saw my head peak out of the room I stopped smiling. “It’s ok come here Richie” he said this voice calm and clear. I slowly walked to him. “Let’s get you set in” he smiled a pasty smile that didn’t comfort me at all, but I knew he was trying. I was tucked in his room, looking at the cracks of the wall made by adulterated plaster. The room was two different types of black. A thick black that looked like it could choke you (on the ceiling) and a hallow black with an augment that pillowed over me. Strangely I was not scared, in more ways than one I felt at home.