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that goddamn grocery store and run through the field at night just to fuking torment me I dont know how much of this
    I can take did I sleepe last night I don’t think I did seems like they where running all over me then to I dont know when I sleeped last I mean you cant sleepe cause that’s when they crawl between your teeth and shit on your tongue or nest inside your ears
    I cant take much more of this I swear to
    fuking christ I cant
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
    Mike slammed the door. It caught a pocket of air two inches short of closing, slowing it down and stealing any indication of anger. He collapsed onto his bed and sighed. The door had stolen all of his resolve.
    The evening hadn’t gone the way he had wanted it to. He knew it was going to be a war, but had hoped he could at least mention moving out. Instead his father had erupted the second Mike walked through the door.
    “Don’t tell me your appointment ran late. And don’t try to spin some other lie. When in the hell did you become such a selfish little shit? Is this the kind of influence Dennis has on you?”
    They had argued for an hour. Mike had pressed the issue of being treated like an adult, his father argued that he was still a child, his mother sat in the kitchen and sipped brandy, and the shadow of Allison fell on them all. When his father had tired of the old arguments, he banished Mike to his room like he was a teenager.
    It did the trick. Mike felt thirteen again, kicking his heels against the foot of the bed and contemplating the repercussions of running away. He chided himself for it. A grown man shouldn’t be “running away.” He should be moving out.
    And what would he tell Dennis? He’d promised to move in with him tomorrow. Yet here he was staring at the movie posters on his wall while his parents were downstairs, oblivious to his plans.
    The building tension forced him to his feet. He paced around the room, his stomach twisting from the dueling responsibilities. Why did everyone want so much from him? Why couldn’t he just do what he wanted?
    What did he want? He shook his head. He wasn’t sure. His mind was murky.
    A tremor started in his bowels. It shook its way up his torso and into his limbs. When it was too much to bear he lashed out, throwing one of his action figures across the room. It crashed into the wall and exploded, showering his bed with small plastic shards.
    “Shit!” Why did he do that? That was his favorite. Now he felt even worse.
    “Mike?” His mother knocked on the door.
    He ran to his bed and threw his covers back, hiding the evidence of his tantrum. “Come in.”
    The door creaked open and she peeked inside. “Are you alright?”
    “Yeah.”
    She stepped in and shut the door. “Are you sure?”
    He nodded.
    “Your father’s just trying to take care of you.”
    He snorted. “I should be taking care of myself.”
    She hugged him. “You need us. You know that. We need you, too.”
    He squeezed her back and tried to think of what he would say to Dennis.
    Friday morning, after his father left for the office, Mike crept into his parent’s room and stole his check card. He once again felt foolish and childish, stealing his own check card, but his father kept it hidden to ensure Mike’s money wasn’t spent. He always gave his son a line about helping to save for the future, but Mike suspected it was a way to maintain control.
    He walked a mile to the closest shopping center and withdrew a few hundred dollars. Then he went to the street corner where he had told his friend to meet him and waited.
    At a quarter past the hour, a small U-Haul truck pulled up. Mike opened the door and hopped in.
    “Morning.” Dennis handed him a cup of coffee and took a sip from his own. He had a giant smile plastered across his face.
    “Hey.”
    “So, why did you want me to pick you up here? Your Dad going to work late?”
    “No. He left already.”
    “Well, let’s go pack your stuff.”
    Mike stared at