#XD30 - Five - Fictional Nonfiction Pt. III
Fictional Nonfiction Pt. II
I nervously wrung my hands as I walked up the steps to enter the building. I unlocked the key, placed my hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath.
Go get your kids, bitch. Go save your sons.
I took a deep breath and walked through the lobby of the five floor walk-up, the new pack of cigarettes clutched in my hand. My keys in the other, I twirled the keyring around my finger, trying to calm myself for whatever was in store when I finally made it upstairs. I stopped when I heard a commotion on the second floor and held my breath. Thankfully, it was just my neighbors talking about what they wanted for dinner that evening. Takeout or pizza? I released my breath with a slow sigh, and continued on my way upstairs repeating a silent prayer on behalf of my boys.
I didn't run into anyone in the hallways. I took another deep breath and opened the door slowly. Unwanted or unnecessary attention was the last thing I needed. I closed the door quietly behind me and said, "I'm back home!" as cheerily as possible, walking into the living room.
Curtis was sitting on the couch, in the same spot, with Tyriq in his lap. When he saw I was alone, he dropped the knife to his lap and said, "The kid for my smokes." I quickly walked over to him and gave him the cigarettes, taking my beautiful baby and holding him as tight to me as possible without hurting him. I ignored the disgusting sneer on Curtis's face. Silent tears dampened my cheeks as I squeezed my eyes shut, held the back of his head and just smelled him again. He smelled like baby lotion and coconut oil. The loose curls on top of his head were soft and he was so warm. He laughed at me--one of those cute baby giggles that infects anyone who comes in contact, but I just started to shake. I kissed him softly on the cheek then took him to the only bedroom in the apartment so I could put him back in his crib. At least he'd be safer there.
When I walked into the room, Bobby was on the floor playing with his toy trucks.
"Mommy! You're back!" he said, running to hug my leg like I'd been gone two years. I smiled meekly and picked up my sweet son.
"Hey, baby. Yeah. Mommy's back. Whatcha doing?"
He pointed down at the floor.
"Playing trucks," he answered.
"Cool," I said, bending over to put him down and see the trucks closer.
"See, Mommy? This one is a delivery truck. He's an angry delivery truck. He's gonna run into this truck here because this other truck is mean to his mommy. Her feelings are hurt. He doesn't like it when his mommy has hurt feelings cause she cries when her feelings hurt."
I couldn't say anything. I just looked at him and nodded. I knew.
"Are your feelings hurt, Mommy?" he asked.
"I'm gonna be ok, baby. Don't you worry about Mommy, ok? We're going to be ok." I wish I could believe myself.
I nervously wrung my hands as I walked up the steps to enter the building. I unlocked the key, placed my hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath.
Go get your kids, bitch. Go save your sons.
I took a deep breath and walked through the lobby of the five floor walk-up, the new pack of cigarettes clutched in my hand. My keys in the other, I twirled the keyring around my finger, trying to calm myself for whatever was in store when I finally made it upstairs. I stopped when I heard a commotion on the second floor and held my breath. Thankfully, it was just my neighbors talking about what they wanted for dinner that evening. Takeout or pizza? I released my breath with a slow sigh, and continued on my way upstairs repeating a silent prayer on behalf of my boys.
I didn't run into anyone in the hallways. I took another deep breath and opened the door slowly. Unwanted or unnecessary attention was the last thing I needed. I closed the door quietly behind me and said, "I'm back home!" as cheerily as possible, walking into the living room.
Curtis was sitting on the couch, in the same spot, with Tyriq in his lap. When he saw I was alone, he dropped the knife to his lap and said, "The kid for my smokes." I quickly walked over to him and gave him the cigarettes, taking my beautiful baby and holding him as tight to me as possible without hurting him. I ignored the disgusting sneer on Curtis's face. Silent tears dampened my cheeks as I squeezed my eyes shut, held the back of his head and just smelled him again. He smelled like baby lotion and coconut oil. The loose curls on top of his head were soft and he was so warm. He laughed at me--one of those cute baby giggles that infects anyone who comes in contact, but I just started to shake. I kissed him softly on the cheek then took him to the only bedroom in the apartment so I could put him back in his crib. At least he'd be safer there.
When I walked into the room, Bobby was on the floor playing with his toy trucks.
"Mommy! You're back!" he said, running to hug my leg like I'd been gone two years. I smiled meekly and picked up my sweet son.
"Hey, baby. Yeah. Mommy's back. Whatcha doing?"
He pointed down at the floor.
"Playing trucks," he answered.
"Cool," I said, bending over to put him down and see the trucks closer.
"See, Mommy? This one is a delivery truck. He's an angry delivery truck. He's gonna run into this truck here because this other truck is mean to his mommy. Her feelings are hurt. He doesn't like it when his mommy has hurt feelings cause she cries when her feelings hurt."
I couldn't say anything. I just looked at him and nodded. I knew.
"Are your feelings hurt, Mommy?" he asked.
"I'm gonna be ok, baby. Don't you worry about Mommy, ok? We're going to be ok." I wish I could believe myself.
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