bed asleep. He hovered over her sleeping body. She looked so peaceful. She had abandoned him. She didn’t even care if he was alive. So what, he thought. He didn’t care either.
He left her bedroom and went down to the kitchen. He needed to feed his famished stomach. The growl was getting louder.
The house was dead silent. A silence he sometimes missed when he was partying with strangers. The moon shone in from the kitchen window.
He grabbed and chair and sat in it. He pulled it up close to open the refrigerator door. The kitchen was very spacious and looked as if it had been recently remodeled. The room was dark and sterile. The only unnatural light illuminated from the bulb inside the refrigerator.
Jane had enough money to remodel the kitchen on a whim but not enough money to give her sick drug addicted son. Adam had to hold in a laugh thinking about it. Then he remembered, in a fit of rage he took a baseball bat and smashed all the cabinets and every appliance the last time he was there.
While in the chair, Adam reached inside the refrigerator and grabbed a half-gallon carton of orange juice from the top shelf. He opened the carton and drank from it. His gulps were loud enough to wake the dead. He was thirstier than he realized.
His blood red eyes searched the refrigerator but only could find organic food. He really craved potato chips. He tried to focus his eyes on something other than the healthy crap inside the refrigerator. He felt himself getting extremely hot. He was so distracted he didn’t notice his mother creeping up behind him.
Jane Hardwick was a beautiful older blonde woman. She was sophisticated and refined. She had an uppity presence that screamed class, proper upbringing and old money. She was fifty-four but her plastic surgeon made sure she didn’t look a day over thirty-five.
She slowly approached. She suspected but wasn’t sure that it was her son who had broken into her house. She was dressed in a long silk nightgown with a matching robe and slippers. She had a semi automatic pistol in her right hand. When she was finally able to clearly see the person, she let out a sigh of relief. Jane leisurely slipped the gun inside her robe pocket.
“Adam.” She called out, startling him.
He dropped the carton of orange juice onto the floor spilling it. Adam jumped in his chair and turned toward his mother’s voice.
“Mother.” He tried to catch his breath and gain his composure.
“What are you doing?” She yelped.
“Making a mess.” Adam tried to make light of the situation.
“Why did you break into my home?”
“I was hungry. I was just going to get cleaned up and leave.”
“Were you going to leave without stealing from me this time?”
Adam wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement. It was definitely a question.
“No.” He wasn’t quite sure that was the answer she was looking for so he said it again. “No.”
Jane’s eyes peered over to her open purse. It was lying on the center island counter in front of the refrigerator. Adam followed her eyes to the purse. Then he looked back at her. Two seconds in and he already had been caught in a lie.
“Mother I just needed a few dollars for food.”
She heard that one before. She moved closer to her son. He appeared to be disheveled and dirty. Why? She wondered, but knew she shouldn’t act like she cared about his appearance or well-being.
“I refuse to give you money anymore. You know that. I’m done.”
“I was going to pay you back.” He lied without hesitation.
Every time she looked her son in his eyes her heart broke. He had eyes like his father. This time was no different. Her heart was breaking.
Adam had a difficult time looking his mother in her eyes as well. He seemed to blink repeatedly. He sniffled as if he had a head cold. Jane knew it wasn’t a cold. It was his addiction.
Adam looked down at the pool of orange juice that settled around his feet. Jane switched on the light in the kitchen. She
He left her bedroom and went down to the kitchen. He needed to feed his famished stomach. The growl was getting louder.
The house was dead silent. A silence he sometimes missed when he was partying with strangers. The moon shone in from the kitchen window.
He grabbed and chair and sat in it. He pulled it up close to open the refrigerator door. The kitchen was very spacious and looked as if it had been recently remodeled. The room was dark and sterile. The only unnatural light illuminated from the bulb inside the refrigerator.
Jane had enough money to remodel the kitchen on a whim but not enough money to give her sick drug addicted son. Adam had to hold in a laugh thinking about it. Then he remembered, in a fit of rage he took a baseball bat and smashed all the cabinets and every appliance the last time he was there.
While in the chair, Adam reached inside the refrigerator and grabbed a half-gallon carton of orange juice from the top shelf. He opened the carton and drank from it. His gulps were loud enough to wake the dead. He was thirstier than he realized.
His blood red eyes searched the refrigerator but only could find organic food. He really craved potato chips. He tried to focus his eyes on something other than the healthy crap inside the refrigerator. He felt himself getting extremely hot. He was so distracted he didn’t notice his mother creeping up behind him.
Jane Hardwick was a beautiful older blonde woman. She was sophisticated and refined. She had an uppity presence that screamed class, proper upbringing and old money. She was fifty-four but her plastic surgeon made sure she didn’t look a day over thirty-five.
She slowly approached. She suspected but wasn’t sure that it was her son who had broken into her house. She was dressed in a long silk nightgown with a matching robe and slippers. She had a semi automatic pistol in her right hand. When she was finally able to clearly see the person, she let out a sigh of relief. Jane leisurely slipped the gun inside her robe pocket.
“Adam.” She called out, startling him.
He dropped the carton of orange juice onto the floor spilling it. Adam jumped in his chair and turned toward his mother’s voice.
“Mother.” He tried to catch his breath and gain his composure.
“What are you doing?” She yelped.
“Making a mess.” Adam tried to make light of the situation.
“Why did you break into my home?”
“I was hungry. I was just going to get cleaned up and leave.”
“Were you going to leave without stealing from me this time?”
Adam wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement. It was definitely a question.
“No.” He wasn’t quite sure that was the answer she was looking for so he said it again. “No.”
Jane’s eyes peered over to her open purse. It was lying on the center island counter in front of the refrigerator. Adam followed her eyes to the purse. Then he looked back at her. Two seconds in and he already had been caught in a lie.
“Mother I just needed a few dollars for food.”
She heard that one before. She moved closer to her son. He appeared to be disheveled and dirty. Why? She wondered, but knew she shouldn’t act like she cared about his appearance or well-being.
“I refuse to give you money anymore. You know that. I’m done.”
“I was going to pay you back.” He lied without hesitation.
Every time she looked her son in his eyes her heart broke. He had eyes like his father. This time was no different. Her heart was breaking.
Adam had a difficult time looking his mother in her eyes as well. He seemed to blink repeatedly. He sniffled as if he had a head cold. Jane knew it wasn’t a cold. It was his addiction.
Adam looked down at the pool of orange juice that settled around his feet. Jane switched on the light in the kitchen. She
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