Roulette
1
He rolled a shirt up into an awkward ball and stuffed it in his bag, when crammed together with the other shirts he noticed how poorly a job he’d done. It looked like a bag packed hastily.
Noticing the shirts stuffed into his bag carelessly, his caregiver smiled warmly, she’d been observing over his shoulder. “You ready?” She asked.
“Yeah.” His voice came out small, powerless. He cleared his throat, pet odors and dirt filled the air. “I mean, yes. I’m ready to go.” He said from the lower part of his throat. Attempting to sound older, unphased by another move.
“He should be here any minute now.” His caregiver said. She seemed so calm, so at peace, as though she truly believed this was the best thing for him.
He was aware of every hiding spot for miles, every grocer that would look the other way while he pocketed a breadstick and a few carmels. He’d learned to thrive here and suddenly none of it mattered, he’d have to do it all over again. Another city. Another name change. Another promise of a ‘new life’ that would ‘be better for him’.
When the doorbell rang he jumped, his heart jolting as everything he’d known began to push forward in his mind. He had several friends here for the first time, he’d gotten into his first fight, he’d taken on younger kids as his siblings. The corner of his eye offered a well of water and a hot ball of emotion burst into his throat forcing upward.
Stay calm, he told himself as he tensed his stomach muscles. The emotion seeped downward, the water in his eyes subsided.
“You’re strong.” She observed. “You’re handling this so much better than me.”
He watched from the corner of his eye as she sat in her bedroom on the floor. Debris strewn about, dirty dishes piled in odd places when the kitchen was only feet away.
“It’s like you don’t give a f--- about me.” She said bitterly at first, something shoe sized and hard enough to leave a mark on the wall flew close enough past his face for him to feel the wind of it grace his nose. She was snapping, he felt it moments before. In his head he pictured the places he’d take refuge in until this passed. The doorbell rang again and he bolted for the front door. Her voice turning into loud screams as his feet stumbled and jolted away into the hallway.
Moments later he was forced back to the doorway where she stood, angelic. His new guardian’s hand upon his shoulder.
“After all I’ve done for him, he didn’t say goodbye.” She had her perfect demeanor mask on.
“I’m sorry.” He said automatically.
He was forced into an automatic hug as she lowered herself to eye level. “Remember what I told you.” She threatened. But how could he forget?
