Sleep took Adam to familiar places. An old, broken swing set in the mud. The circle of small houses clustered together, each looking no better than the others. The stairs leading up to that green door and the pungent smell coming from the trash piled up in front of the door.
The door opened before he touched the knob. Hot air wafted out, dragging the stale smell of smoke and sweat out. There she was, as she always was, dressed in only a t-shirt that was too small for her. Seeing him return, she threw a can of beer at him. The can missed Chase and bounced against the wall, splashing its contents at him.
He knew what she would say. She always said the same thing whenever she saw him.
"Why did you come back?! Get out!"
A man chucked him to the side, the force sending him into a pile of bags on the kitchenette floor. There was a sharp, burning sensation on his arm. Chase looked down; his arm was wet from a mixture of liquids that were in the bag. Blood poured from a gash in his arm made by a tin can cover.
The boy tried to stay quiet as he navigated a path to the sink. He cleaned his arm as best he could and wrapped the wound with a kitchen cloth. Walking back to the doorway, he glanced towards the living room; his mother was on the couch with the man. Chase waited until they turned away from him before he snuck across the living room to her bedroom.
He quickly dug through her drawers, trying to find the envelope. He searched through all three drawers before finding the envelope in her underwear drawer. He checked the envelope; there was money in it this time—quite a few bills. He took one of each note before putting the envelope back.
As he snuck his way through the living room again, the man shouted at his mother and slapped her around.
"Thought I told you I don't like to see no kids!"
Chase bolted for the door, but the man caught him before he got out. The man grabbed him by his hair and slammed his head against the door.
"The fuck you sneaking around like a rat for?! You a snitch?"
When Chase didn't answer, the man dragged him back to the living room and threw him towards his mother.
"You usin' your kid to sell me out?"
"No! I'd never do that to you. He's not even mine!"
The woman kicked Chase away from her and towards the man.
"Get out!" She yelled. "You're someone else's garbage; you're not even useful to me anymore!"
The man smiled and nodded at his mother, then dragged Chase by his shirt to the door.
"You know what happens if you snitch. In case you forget, here's a reminder."
The man then slugged him. A beating followed and only ended when the man felt he'd gotten his point across. Chase lay still on the ground with his hands over his head. He didn't move until he heard the familiar sound of their activity resume.
Pulling himself off the floor, he limped outside. Unable to walk or breathe properly, Chase took small, careful steps. The throbbing and burning in his arm mirrored the throbbing pain in his head. His vision blurred several times before he blacked out.
He knew he hadn't hit the ground; he'd fallen somewhere soft and warm. The warmth under him slowly enveloped him, and a gentle breeze whipped the strands of hair on his forehead. A nostalgic sensation gently brushed his hair back.
But the warmth started to fade, and as he felt it slip from under him, he reached out, begging it to stay.
Adam's eyes opened to see a startled Aurora half out of bed. She smiled at him and gently tousled his hair.
"Hey, morning. I didn't mean to wake you."
When Adam didn't let go, Aurora gently pried his fingers from her robe. She adjusted her clothes and sat down. Adam rolled onto his back, his eyes locking with Aurora's.
She traced his eyebrows with her thumb. "Did you have a nightmare?"
The boy shook his head in denial.
"Mom?"
"Hmm?"
"Can we have pancakes for breakfast?"
Aurora chuckled. Yes, we can."
ns 15.158.61.6da2
