“You know, your hair is really soft after you wash it. You should do it more often,” I spoke as my hands braided his hair.
“You tell me this every time mom,” he lets out a sigh, shuffling to get more comfortable on the floor.
“Can’t help it – when you never wash your hair. Let alone shower,” I whispered the last part.
He huffs at me before going on his phone to tune out my ‘motherly scolding’s.’ He plays baseball, comes home and lays on our couch. I don’t mind him relaxing- butttt, without showering is a big no no. He’s 17 and can’t shower without his mother telling him to do so is kind of sad, but at least he does in the mornings. I guess it’s a personal thing; I’d much rather shower after being all hot and sweaty. I guess he just prefers to lay in his own filth.
“Hunny. I need to have a serious conversation with you,” my voice shook – nervous of what’s to come of this conversation.
“Wassup mama?”
“How would you feel if I brought another man home? You know, since your father has been gone for so long.”
Pausing in the middle of him messaging someone was never a good sign for me. So, I quickly mumbled a never mind and continued to braid his hair.
“No. It would depend on him to be fair, I don’t particularly like the idea, but I cannot expect you to not fall for someone else just because dad passed,” he sighed.
“Are you sure, hunny?”
He nodded hesitantly, “I just want to know his name.”
I told him and he’d asked me to tell him about him – what he likes, who he is and so on. After talking for a little bit, I felt safe knowing he didn’t mind it that much, and he was tired, so he headed to bed.
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When he came in, he did not seem to have had a good day. Therefore, I left him alone to not bother him nearly as much. Granted I hadn’t seen him – I still felt the need to distance for a moment. I heard the door slam and nothing after. ‘ He never comes home like this – Maybe I should check on him. But, last time I checked on him he did not speak to me for a week. Granted, I am his mother and I have the right to go check on him. I’m going.’ I get up from the leather sofa and head my way up to his room. I noticed his door was wide open and decided to walk in. The ripe smell of blood filled my nose. Had he gotten into an altercation? Pushing through the door I saw him – standing in the middle of his room breathing heavily with blood covering his clothes.
“Oh my god! What happened? Who did this to you?” I yelled out.
“It’s not my blood don’t worry.” he shrugged it off.
“Is that supposed to make me feel any better?” Fear ran through my body as I had just watched him wipe blood off of his face with a smile.
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