Again and again .

It was a cold summer night , that I remember clearly , I was eleven years old when my father passed away and I remember that day vividly , my heart pounds in my chest when I meet someone new and the topic of family is brought up , what should I say ? , I ask myself in a repeated cycle i know too well , the truth or lie today ? I don't want to see the mournfulness in their eyes , their lips twitching downwards in a motion that I could draw so well with my eyes closed .

I can recall that day, tell it like a historical story, think of it as a time when I was a mere child, too young, too clueless to what was happening around me they said.

My little sister is crying hysterically, violet sobs escaping her small frame that night, I wake up angry at her as it was a school night and I needed my sleep but she just wouldn't shut up , I jolt from my bed seeing our maid running in circulars in the long hall way that connects our house together , I'm confused about what's happening , her shiny jet black hair with yellow highlights a mess to be seen , she never let her hair be untangled , this must be big I thought . I get up from my bed and try to ask my sister what was going on but she couldn't answer me , she was crying, unknowably of a reason and I hated her when she cried so I left her on the floor on our shared bedroom and went to our maid to ask her why they were all in such a frenzy .

"Your dad is not breathing and I called the ambulance " , she said , holding my shoulders tightly as she spoke on her knees to meeting my eyes .

I didn't believe her , why should I ? , I saw my father yesterday and he was well , he was happy and in top health , she sleeps right beside him in bed and locks the door when they do , they were close I thought , she must not joke about these things with us if she wanted to stay friends with dad and have sleepovers with him , my younger self thought in that time , but her horrified face , my sisters crying made me rethink that and I started to panic as well , my mom and dad divorced when I was seven and my sister four and she lived quite away from our house so calling her would be as helpful as trying to talk to my sister her now mental state .

But I didn't cry or sob or shake uncontrollably , I went to bed and tried to sleep again , I thought it was all a dream and when I wake up tomorrow my father would be standing in the kitchen making me pancakes like he always does ,but no that didn't happen , I covered my ears and tried to sleep but to no avail , Anastasia my little sister kept on screaming and crying and I couldn't understand why , its all a dream can't you see that ? , Anastasia was smart but here she wasn't so smart after all .

I remember clear as glass the day after , our mom came and hugged us tight , but why ? , it was a dream nonetheless everything was too detailed for such a silly dream , she told us with tears in her eyes that her ex-husband had went to a better place , he was happy and he would miss as , but I still didn't get it , people I didn't even know where in our bedroom , their disgusting colognes filling the airs atmosphere, making the room smaller with their adult bodies taking most of the space it in .

While my sister was crying after he just learned that he lost her father , nothing but jealousy filled my head , I was jealous she was getting more attention than me , cradled in our mothers arm as if she only had one child not two , I didn't care that my father had just died , I wanted my mother to hold me more than my grieving sister .

My father was buried the day after that , I wanted to separate myself from all this , wanted to wake up from this long agenizing dream but it seemed this dream was a reality and I had to live in this unsettling reality, as I didn't go to his funeral , my senses of the real world shattered that day and the realness of the situation finally hit me .

When our mom moved in to be our legal guardian and take care of us I was happy , I loved my mom and her being with as made the whole thing worthwhile despite the circumstances behind her sudden move .

6 years later

Waking up to the sound of the depressing alarm I get up to get ready for another day of work , my hairs a mess and I feel like shit already but I have to go , as I open my bedroom door in an intent to wash my face and get ready for yet another day the smell of fresh coffee hits my senses.

Shit.

Hurrying to the living room I wish what I'm thinking is untrue, that my mind is playing tricks on me and making me hallucinate but of course it's not, life would have been much simpler if my mind was as creative as I thought it to be .

My mother was sitting in the living room on her designated chair in the far end corner of the living room , cold sweat came down my neck as I walked backwards trying to just go back into the bathroom as the conversation that would occur if I spoke would only end up in us shouting at each other just like before , but I couldn't get far back when she noticed me and put her mug of fresh coffee on the glass table in front of her .

"Mike, good morning "

"Good morning mom "

The air around the mother and son was so thick you could cut it with a knife , filled with thoughts about the future and the present moment itself , what is there to say when everything has been laid down so perfectly ?

"Why are you home mom ,aren't you going to be late for work like that ?" , Mike asks carefully , thinking about each word a million times before speaking his feelings out into the open air to be judged , but to not avail, his mother gets defensive as she usually does .

She looks at him with sharp eyes that could freeze even a criminal in place "it doesn't concern you "

And that's the end of this fruitless discussion, Michael doesn't talk back or even fight his mother's standing on this topic , he nods , in agreement of what was said and goes into the bathroom to do what he intended on before he found out his mother has lost her job yet again .

I close the door of the bathroom behind me painstakingly slowly as to avoid any type of anger from her and as I look into the mirror above the sink , my hair all fucked and bleary-eyed I hold myself with both hands on each side of said sink and stare into myself , why does this keep happening ? , can we live on my paycheck anymore ? , fuck , why doesn't she react , why can't she say something at least ?, how can she do this to us , how can we live like this , what kind of life is this , I-I can't-

My grip on the sink gets stronger and stronger, I can see my knuckles turning white and the anger bubbling in me is taking over, my mind is getting fogy and I can feel tears prickling at my eyes, "shit I can't cry right now I have work " , I wipe my face with the back of my hand and turn the water on to muffle the sound of my remaining sobs .

My shift flew by , I didn't feel time moving , or maybe I just didn't want it to exist just for a second , maybe I thought if I just ignored the outside world around me that time would seize to exist , that all my problems and misfortunes would evaporate but as John put his hand on my shoulder at the end of the day I snapped back into this unfortunate reality I lived in .

"Hey dude you ok ? , you didn't even say hi when you walked in today" , he said to me , in his calm , honey coated voice that I have known him for and I couldn't take my anger out on him , how can I ? .

I turn my neck to get a good look at him , his light brown eyes reflecting the sun so beautifully , matching his short yet curly hair , he looked worried , he always does when I come in with a sour mood .

"I'm ok John , sorry I didn't say hi to you today I was distracted , won't happen again I promise ", I patted his right shoulder from where I stood as he didn't look convinced when he looked at my hand as I lowered it , his eyes followed mine looking for an explanation , as my eyes could tell him what he couldn't reach ,"Did something happen at home ?, something with Ms. Pamela ? " , he spoke so politely about my mother , one would think she was a business woman and he was one of her clients asking when can he meet her with the busy schedule of hers , he knew about my rough relationship with her , how we fought a lot and didn't see eye to eye most of my life , I would come to him and tell him a whole different story about why we fought today and why its different than the many other times that we did , how this time was different and how much it hurt me to hear what she had to say about me in her state of anger but I would always twist the story , not tell him the much darker reasons for our fights , I don't know why I did that , I still don't know , is it an ego thing ? , I don't quite know ,today is no different when compared to the over times we discussed this topic .

"You caught me ", I raise my hands in defeat ,"yeah it's about her , we didn't fight fight but she did something I didn't like and here we are " , I have always been vague when talking about her to anyone , our problems never went outside the wording of "had a fight " ,we were the type of family that keep our problems between us , never let the outside world in and never planned too , John gave me this reassuring look he has , he looked at me as a child in need of guidance ,eyes softened when he heard about my problems with my mother , he sympathized with me even when he was not able to relate, I wonder what goes thought his mind when he tries to help me , give me advise he never uses or that he thought of on the spot but who knows anymore .

"Want to stay over tonight?", John says to me, giving the idea some thought I tell him that wouldn't work, that she would worry and besides that I had something necessary I had to do.

Its dark out , street lights the only source of what we dismiss in the mornings , my head is low , looking at my feet as I walked the alleys and streets , digging thought my pockets I'm hungry for a smoke but nonetheless my pockets hold nothing , walking thought the dark roads my mind has no distraction other than itself , ideas and thoughts start to take over , standing on the sidelines I cannot do anything but watch my psyche collapse ,as I stepped on cigar buts on the floor , all shivered up and desperate for whoever to pick them up once again , I wonder what the invention of such thing helped us as a society , self-pleasure and its importance to the human race was always known but cigarettes made that thought into physical form for all of us to make our own judgement about .

Michaels train of thoughts was cut short as his feet led him to the smell of oil and gas, he could smell it a mile away and knew he was at old Victors car garage.

He has been fixing and working on cars for as long as I can remember , that old man has a passion for these metal junks and his place of work reflected that ,as I dodge the cars parked outside , abandoned by their owners till they are restored to their health the former glory I could feel the floor beneath me cold and sticky , my feet struggle to move with every step I take , the smell of gas and petrol filled the place , feeling accustomed to such scents it was a relief when before I would stay outside till my senses adjusted to those mind numbing chemicals , the smell of what I'm yearning for filled the place as well so my trip was not for nothing anymore , the place seemed to be eating itself as it was smaller than it was last time I came , things clustered on the floors and on the counters , unorganized that if my mother say them they would bring the death of her , I failed to find Victor himself , the place was so deadly quiet it reminded me of home and that was the last thing I wanted to be reminded of , but before I could even get a word out I see Victor emerge from the back of the garage with a towel in hand and his working voice on ,however, when our eyes meet he signs a sign of relief , Mr. Nelson was never a people person anyhow and his act would drop when I come in , not until his next customer came in at least .

"What brings you here kid?", Victor asks Michael as he wipes the sweat of his forehead walking around the repair garage trying to remember what he came out originally for.

Michael doesn't respond right away as he finds the nearest chair to sit on to collect his thoughts before speaking.

"kid?"

But Michael's eyes show no emotion but one , neediness and he needs one thing now ,cigarettes ,he lifts his head up from where he is seated and asks "you have any cigarettes on you ?"

Victor puts his towel on the counter next to him, he wants to reason with Michael , to talk some sense into him but he had no right to .

"Sorry kid, I don't have any on me now " , Victor knows he does , he never goes anywhere without them on hand but in this moment , seeing this teenager all crumpled up and beat down ,he thought that cigarettes were the last thing he needed right now , but Michaels tone has harsh and venomous as he spoke , a mix of anger and desperation prickled up in his voice as it broke in the middle of his words ,

"I know you have them on you, I could smell them from outside the shop, ju-just give me some or I'll just leave "I pause for a second, looking at the dirty floor under me and I couldn't handle it anymore

"please "

my vocal cords hurt when I spoke that word out loud, I was desperate and I can't deny that , my arms swung around as I spoke to him and my mind wanted what it desired , the old man looked at me and all I could see was pity in his black eyes ,he gave in ,not wanting to cause a scene I suppose and gave me what I had asked for , my hands trembled as I lit one up , my body relaxed of the sensation it vibrated in me, making my mind cool down and the voice in the back on my head go silent , even for a minute, that was enough for me .

The old man watched me as the nicotine entered my body and made me numb, I loved every second of that sensation, I could forget who I was and what I would become for now , my faults and regrets whisked away by the air and that was a beautiful feeling .

Michael pulled his head back , his black hair followed suit and his body melted in his chair , and when Victor went back to back of the garage Michael chose to spend his night there ,away from everyone and everything ,that until his mother called and demanded he came back home , nevertheless the night was long and Michael hoped his pack on cigarettes would pull though , he wondered if Victor pitted him or just didn't want his own son to turn out like Michael in his teenage years but that was a thought he didn't want to entertain for too long either .