Everyone has their fucked up days...
Everything was planned I guess. I never saw how they connected. That one morning, that one comment, that one being... it almost ended my life.
It was about 5 in the morning. I was deep into sleep, but the people living here weren't. He was getting up to go to work. She was getting up to make him breakfast. I, still, was deep in my slumber.
"Jake! Wake up! Time to pay off your debt" She screamed off the top of her lungs. How can she have so much energy from barely waking up? I groaned and rolled around in bed, not wanting to wake up. I heard her fists bang against my room wall and I murmured to myself, calling her an annoying bitch.
I heard pans being crashed in the kitchen as she began to cook our breakfast. Fried eggs, cooked ham, and toasted bread. I heard him shuffling about in the master bedroom. I rolled around in bed facing the door and opened my eyes slowly. I heard him walk past my door and into the kitchen. I perked my ears as I heard him talk.
"Hey, he's still asleep, his door isn't even open." He said to her.
I began getting used to the darkness in my room. I rolled about some more and began looking out through the crack in my shades. The sun just began to rise when she began screaming again.
"I said to wake the fuck up!" She began to bang on my room door.
I hate working on Saturdays... especially if it requires waking up at 5AM. I groaned some more and spun over to my side to face the side of my drawer next to my head. All of a sudden, she burst in through the door.
She had a history of getting me pissed off. She knew my pet peeves. She knew the things that I liked, and even knew how to turn them against me. But the thing she mentioned to me that morning, it was a whole different thing...
Recently, I had come out the closet with her. I realized that was my mistake. Since then, she wanted to commit suicide, our 'secret' has mysteriously made it to the mouths of others, and now, I have other relatives who dislike me.
She burst into the room, and I barely managed to open my eyes when she said it. I had taken years of physical and verbal abuse. The straws on the camel's back was building up.
"Wake the fuck up you little fag!" Yea... she said it. A mother to her son. I felt my face turn red with anger as I sat on my bed quickly. I managed to see her face. She had distinctive eyes, a stabbing grin across her muzzle.
"You! I'm so fucking tired of you! Mom, all you're fucking useful for is for being a bitch! I've taken all your shit, I-I've taken all you insults, all your hits, I'm sick and tired of you!" I got up and headed towards my closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a shirt. The May mornings were slightly cold but the rest of the day was gonna be warm.
"What did you just call me?"
"I called you a bitch, yea, get the fuck over it. Same way I've taken all your shit." I pulled on my shirt and my jeans and slipped into my sneakers.
"How can you do that to your own mom? I gave birth to you..." Her tone lowered then rose in anger, "You can't disrespect me like that!"
"No, it would be immoral to disrespect a mother, right? But you, you're not even a friend. You're dead to me..." With those final words, I left the room. I saw him in the kitchen sipping coffee out of a cup.
"Hey, nice to see you awake Jake." He threw one of those fake smiles at me.
"Shut the hell up." I walked out of the door, not caring to lock it. Thoughts were clouding my mind. What else could've I have said to my mom? Why didn't I just stay shut? Where do I go know? Questions asked, no answers.
I headed down the stairs and walked out of the side of the building, walking towards the river. The river always helped my relax after my mom's insults and abuses. I walked across 2nd Ave, without looking to see if there were any oncoming cars. I walked the length of the block to 1st Ave, the busiest avenue in New York City, even at 5 in the morning.
Still rather blind with rage, the blinking red light was a caution to the pedestrian. I completely ignored it and it turned a solid red. I crossed the street and heard a car screech to a halt. I felt the side of my body scream out in pain as the Hummer shoved its front bumper into my side. The past events flashed in my eyes. My rising anger, my mom finally broken down, my storming out, and the car hitting me.
The car sent me flying at least 3 feet. I landed head first on the ground. My body laid limp on the ground as I was rendered unconscious...