Bad Boy Games

Chapter 19

                There are two other pictures in here, one of Michael when he was just a few months old and another that I took when we were at the park about two months ago. His eyes have gotten a bit darker since the first picture was taken.

                The last thing had my eyes filling with tears. It’s a letter from Dad, the only one he’s sent me since he left. He sent it when I was fifteen. It doesn’t really say much, just his pitiful excuses about why he left, asking me how we’ve been and how his ‘new life’ is. It made me mad when I read it for the first time and it still does, but I kept it because it gives me a little hope that maybe, somewhere deep down, he might still care about us.

                That hope has faded though. He didn’t send anymore or answer the one that I sent back to him. I wiped the remaining tears out of my eyes and put everything neatly back into the box, shutting it and putting it back under my bed. Then I found what I was originally looking for. My sketchbook.

                I grabbed a pencil and an eraser and curled up on the window seat, debating on what to draw. I finally decided and my hand started moving across the page. I spent two hours working on the drawing and finally finished it. I drew a heart with wings sprouting out of the sides, the word ‘Hope’ written in the middle of it in curvy writing.

                I don’t know why exactly I drew it. Maybe it’s because of what happened with Preston. Or maybe it was sparked by reading that letter. I think it was probably a mix of both. Finding a tack, I pinned it up on my wall beside the picture that Michael drew for me and a few other pictures. Some are what I drew and others are pages ripped out of coloring books that Michael colored for me.

                I smiled softly at his pictures, remembering how excited he was when he gave them to me. He’s such a sweet little boy with a bright future ahead of him. He may not have the most normal life, growing up without a dad and all, but he’s pulled through really well and I think he’s doing just fine without him. It does make me sad and mad when he asks me about his Daddy, wondering where he is and if he loves him.

                It makes me sad because Michael deserves a father that loves and takes care of him like he should. It makes me mad because Dad should have been there for him. He should have stayed loyal to my mom instead of tearing the family apart. We may be patching things up with Landon but we wouldn’t even have to do that if he had just been the father that he was supposed to be.

                Turning away from the wall, I went over to my bed and laid down. I might as well sleep till Mom gets home.

                “Lilla!” Someone shook my shoulders and I groaned, rolling away and covering my head with the pillow. It stopped for a few seconds and I heard some shuffling. I started to fall back asleep but was rudely awoken by more shaking, this time harder. “Lilla!” That same voice rung in my ears and I groaned again.

                “Michael I’m up. Stop shaking me.” He stopped and I slowly cracked my eyes open, meeting his wide excited brown ones. Launching forward, he hugged me tightly. When I finally processed what was happening I reached up to hug him back. He pulled back and smiled at me happily.

                “I hoooome Lilla!” He sang, bouncing up and down and clapping. I raised an eyebrow at him and stretched, groaning loudly. He poked my tummy and I finished stretching before grabbing him and tickling his sides. He giggled and squealed loudly, wiggling around as he tried to get away.

                “Grrrr! I’m the Tickle Monster! How dare you wake me up from my slumberrr! Arrrrrgh!” He kept shrieking.

                “L-Lilla!” He giggled, trying to breathe through his laughter. “I sowwy!” He cried, falling into another fit of breathless giggles. I smiled and then released him, swooping down to kiss his forehead.

                “I wuuuuub you my little grasshopper!”

                “I wub you too sissy!” I scooped him up into my arms and got out of the bed, taking him out of the room and down the stairs to the living room. He ran over to pick out a movie and asked me to put it in. I glanced at it and smiled. Scooby Doo. Of course. We sat and cuddled on the couch as we watched the gang try to figure out the Ghost Pirate Ship mystery.

                The smell of food drifted through the house. Just when the second show on the disk was ending Mom called us in for dinner. I looked at Michael, widening my eyes and smiling excitedly as I made my mouth form into a little ‘o’. He did the same and as soon as I paused it he jumped off the couch, running across the room.

                “I gonna beat you sissy!” He yelled happily. I laughed and followed him.

                “Oh no you’re not!” I kept my pace fast enough to where it looked like I was trying, but not fast enough to pass him. He giggled as he ran, plopping into his seat and grinning at me excitedly.

                “Did you see how fast I ran sissy?!” I leaned on the chair and pretended to pant and wipe sweat off my forehead.

                “Phew! I sure did! I almost couldn’t see you since you were running so fast!” Mom came in and smiled softly at us, placing the plates of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy in front of us. My stomach growled and I sat down once I went and got the drinks and put them down as well.

                “Thanks Mom.”

                “Thank you Mommy!” Michael said, biting into a piece of his chicken.

                “You’re welcome.” We all ate in a comfortable silence, only broken when Michael started talking about some random thing every once in a while. He’s a very talkative child. When we all finished I put our plates in the sink. Mom told me not to worry about washing them. Then we all went into the living room and continued to watch Scooby Doo. Michael fell asleep after two more shows and I offered to take him upstairs.

                Mom said okay and kissed my forehead, saying goodnight as she flipped the TV onto the news channel. I brought Michael to his room and gently tucked him in and kissed the top of his head, flicking his nightlight on and closing the door silently. Then I went to my room and flopped down on the bed, not even thinking about Preston as I fell into a deep sleep.