Primed for Sin//Basketball Diaries

1 - Distant Memories

I quickly ran around the room, desperately trying to find some clothes to throw on. I did manage to find a pair of old, light blue faded denim jeans, the downside was that they had holes in them, two large ones on each knee to be exact. I cursed under my breath, something my mother would beat me for, but pulled them on anyway before finding a black and white flannel shirt, buttoning it all of the way up.

I grabbed my key from my dresser, not bothering to style my uncombed hair before exiting my bedroom.

I traipsed down the hallway, passing my mothers bedroom to the right and the bathroom to my left. I ignored the empty picture frames as I walked past them, turning to my right into the kitchen to grab my black converse.

"How do you think you could possibly get a job with this attitude?" My mother commented as she entered the kitchen, anger coating her tone.

I glanced up at her briefly before continuing to tie my shoelaces, pushing the chair back slightly from underneath me so I was able to stretch down easier, "What attitude?"

After I had made that comment I knew I'd instantly regret it. My mother was never one for what she called "back-chatting" or "sarcasm", even though we all know it was never either.

I swallowed hard before standing to my feet, luckily both shoes were tied already. I faced my red-faced mother who had a belt in hand. She approached me as she wrapped it around her fist, clenching it tightly before raising it above her head.

Here's a thing to know, my mother was a very petite woman, not teetering above 5'2, but boy did she have a temper. If you crossed her, you knew about it. I wasn't one for taking shit from anyone either, but I had no choice but to obey her as she would disown me with a reason if I did so, and she could be a heartless piece of work.

"What did I tell you about speaking back to me?" My mother's angry tone rang in my ears as the leather belt ripped the skin on my forearms.

Oh yeah, she wasn't exactly afraid to draw blood or leave scars marking my pale skin.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I couldn't help but repeat apology after apology as I cowered in the corner behind a chair like a coward.

"As you should be," My mother's snide comment made me want to cry like a baby, but I held back as that was probably just what she wanted to see.

I peered up at the small woman as she placed the belt back around her waist, looping in in each loophole on her denim jeans before tightening it to the first hole, lord was she skinny.

"Get up and get in the car,"

---

After we'd arrived at the therapist's office, my mother forced me out of the car and into the reception doors with her, even though it was her appointment, not mine.

I walked beside her, not wanting to look at her at all, I kept finding myself glancing over to my right across the parking lot. In between the cars, I noticed a boy, a woman by his side.

He was dressed in what appeared to be a school blazer, him being too far away for me to see the logo design on the left side of his chest. He wore a tie and white shirt underneath the blue blazer, black tailored trousers, and black shoes to match.

As he got closer to the building, and so did my mother and me, he noticed me.

I watched in awe as the boy's hair swayed in the wind, his dirty blonde locks brushing lightly against his forehead. I gazed at his ocean blue eyes which began studying me with what seemed to be malicious intent if I had to guess. His pupils dilated at the sight of me. I felt gooseflesh rise my spine as he paced towards the building almost beside me, his perfectly white teeth pinching his lower lip as he bit down on it.