Post by tomas martin on Oct 18, 2011 22:31:34 GMT -5
[/i]erin, isaac c., resident
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[/sub][/font]with my parents on either side of me, a look of poorly masked anger on my father's face, i feel like i'm six years old again. except i'm not. i'm seventeen and this is just one of my many offenses; i've lost count of how many times i've been seated here, in this single chair, head bowed to my chest. "he's out of control. vandalism, truancy, disruption of the school." i refuse to glance up, for i can picture the look of scorn on the head's face, as well as my father's. i'm no stranger to the judgment nor the disappointment. i've lived this life for close to eighteen years and not once have i not seen that flash of distrust, that glint of disgust because that's all i am to anyone - a nuisance. i hold no value but i'm used to it.________________________________________
warmth fills my veins, as if there's a slow burning fire running through them. i glance down at the bundle in my arms, the faintest of smiles on my face. who would have ever thought i would be a father. i shift in my seat, tucking the baby mere securely against my chest as my gaze travels to the hospital bed where the most beautiful girl lies, her golden hair fanned out around her serene face. she's been asleep for a while and i am thankful; having lived a life full of such chaos, these moments of peace are what i cherish the most.________________________________________
who would have thought life would have turned out this way? i rest my head back on the abundance of pillows at my disposal, my eyelids fluttering shut. i guess anyone from my past wouldn't be surprised by how things have ended up. instead of being as clean as i'd like to be, i'm sitting in a rented out beach house in cape cod, massachusetts. summer is safely in london with her - our - son, who i've heard has grown up to be a wonderful boy. from the few i keep contact with, i've learned he has my eyes. that makes me happy, but it also hurts me. i know i'm not the best father figure nor the most reliable, but to be kept from my son pains me whenever i think about it. which is why i don't. and so, i reach for the bottle of rum on my bedside, the cool glass and burning liquid a welcome reprieve from the ugly thoughts running through my head. i take the same route i always have; i drown my thoughts in this bottle and burn the anguish away with the nicotine rush of the cigarette i've just lit. this is the way i am, the way i've always been. unable to hold down a job, a family, anything. i fear this is how things will always be.________________________________________
i've just met ivy's parents. i never thought it would happen, but it has. worry plagues me as i lay there atop her cool, silk sheets, one arm wrapped around her lissome form, the other tucked behind my head, propping it up. thoughts run through my mind, keeping me from sleep. for the first time in my life, i crave the acceptance of another. i know that ivy's father has nothing against me - in fact, he seems to accept that his daughter has found someone she loves, although terribly bad for her - while her mother... the glare upon her face, the frigid nature with which she bade us goodnight, lingers in my mind. all i want is to be good enough for the beautiful girl asleep beside me but i know i can't be, that i can't give her everything she deserves.________________________________________
relationships were never my thing. i'd never had one until summer and following that, ivy was the next and last girl i'd had the title of boyfriend to. and then came along nathalie. she was unlike any of the other girls i'd been with - but that wasn't a bad thing - just different. whereas my relationship with ivy had been tumultuous and filled with complications, this was similar and yet not. to be honest, i wasn't even sure it was a relationship. all i knew was that i was always with her, just like i currently was. reclined in her bed, i watched as she strode about her room, looking the picture of frustration. with her hair askew, baby blues alive with confusion, i couldn't help but smile. "as much as i want to hate you, i always seem to be pulled back in. i don't really know what we're doing anymore and as much as i act like i don't care, you know i do and that scares me." she pauses, turning to look at me with an inscrutable expression. "everything was easy in the beginning when it was just all about sex but now it's turned into something else entirely. tomas, what are we doing? i just... i don't know what to do and it's terrifying to me." in response, i reach out, catching her warm hand in my own. "don't worry." those are the only words i speak as i pull her to my chest, wrapping my lean arms around her familiar body, hoping to put her heart and her mind at ease.________________________________________
the beams of light burn my eyelids and i groan, the warmth at my side disappearing as i roll over, disregarding the female beside me. however, mere moments after i've shifted, the weight upon the bed does as well. ivy is leaning over my apparently sleeping form, reaching for my pack of luckys on the table. she thinks i'm asleep but she should know better than that; i've never been a heavy sleeper. "saw that, v." the affectionate nickname slips out before i can stop it. and then she speaks and it's so unsure, so raspy, so filled with emotion that i know she's attempting to hide, that i can't help but turn to face her, half my face shielded by the cool pillow beneath my head. with her sitting there, looming over her in all of her glory, i feel the stirring of the feelings i'd promise i'd ignore - at least, until i could find a way to properly convey them. so, instead of speaking as i know i should, i play the prick card. my words come out scathing, condescending, and then we're at it again. this exchanging of harsh words, followed by regret as it hits me straight in the stomach, my voice trailing after her as she makes to leave. "no, fuck you! this is why i hate you!" it stings - more so than the smack upon my cheek - but i'm not surprised as i sit there, unable to formulate a proper sentence.________________________________________
i stumble through the doorway, casting a glance toward the couch where the babysitter lies, my son fast asleep on the loveseat opposite her. what i have here in new york isn't the best but it's an honest life i've built for myself and for my son. i pay the young girl, ignoring the lingering gaze she sends me - i've seen it before but pay no mind to it - and walk to my son. his brown hair, so much like mine, falls over his lowered eyelids. he looks so peaceful, as if he doesn't have a care in the world; i hope for the life of me that i'm able to provide for him in the way he deserves, to ensure that he never has to worry about anything other than which shoes he has to wear or which game he'd prefer to play. i vow to myself that he'll never experience the hardships everyone assumed he would - that i will make him as happy as i've never been able to make another.
