Unsteady (COMPLETED)

FOUR

Then - Michael

I sit on the back step, my elbows leaning on my knees and my head in my hands. My life has gone to shit and there is nothing I can do about it.

I can feel eyes watching me and it makes me look up, catching the eyes of a cute black haired girl sitting in a tree. She can't be more than thirteen or fourteen, but I can already see the beauty that radiates from her. And those eyes...those beautiful green eyes pull me in like nothing ever before.

We sit, staring at one another for a few minutes. Neither of us is sure whether or not we should acknowledge the other. I watch her as her eyes bore into my own and her plump bottom lip gets pulled between her teeth, displaying her nerves.

A smirk forms on my face and I find myself standing and walking over to the fence that separates us. Her tree stands above it, allowing me to still see her clearly as I step closer and closer.

"Like what you see?" I say confidently, although I am anything but.

She rolls her eyes and a smile forms on her face. "Yeah, you have a really nice house." She replies and I laugh in response.

"Are you okay?" She whispers. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lip again finds it's way between her teeth.

"Can you stop doing that?" I blurt out, shaking my head. She looks at me in utter confusion but stops biting her lip. Thankfully.

"I'm fine. Just a long day." I reply after composing myself. "Are you okay?"

She nods her head but doesn't say anything. Her eyes stop looking into mine. Instead, they look down at my shoes.

"My name is Mike," I say, giving her my best smile.

"I know." She replies. "I mean, my name is Carmella."

I chuckle. "Well nice to meet you, Carmella."

She smiles. "Nice to meet you, too."

"So what are you doing up in that tree?" I ask curiously.

She looks away, back at something near her house before she replies. "Um...this is just my special spot, I guess." Her cheeks redden and she refuses to look at me, making me smile. She's absolutely stunning when she blushes.

"Cool, I may have to join you sometime."

Her head pops in my direction, making me wonder how she didn't kink it in the sudden movement. "Really?" She says, her voice a little higher than before. "I would like that."

"I would like that, too," I say as I run my fingers through my curly hair.

"Michael!" The annoying voice of my mom rings through the air.

"Shit, I gotta go. I will see you around, Ella."

"It's Carmella."

"I know," I say with a wink, turning on my heel and heading into my house. I wonder if she is blushing again and I find myself grinning at the thought.

Entering the house, I head into the living room to find my mom laying on the floor.

"Shit, mom. Are you okay?" I ask frantically, rushing over to her to help her off of the ground.

"Daryl? Is that you?" She asks me, squinting her eyes as she takes me in.

"No, mom. It's me, Michael." I reply as I put her arm around my shoulder and lift her up. "Daryl is dead, remember?"

Familiar tears form in her broken eyes and a sob escapes her. "My poor, poor little boy." She wails.

"I know, mom. Let's get you into bed." I say as I begin the difficult task of dragging my mother to her room. Her feet stumble, making us sway and fall against the walls. I can smell the vodka on her breath and it takes all I can not to gag from the stench.

"Why did God have to take my little boy away?" She slurs as we enter her room. "Why? Maybe if he didn't, your father would still be here with us."

"I don't know, mom," I reply, telling her the same thing I have told her for the past five years since Daryl died of cancer at the age of four.

I drop the frail, blonde woman on the bed and walk into the bathroom, grabbing a bucket and a wet cloth. I walk back to her and place the bucket beside the bed and the cloth on her forehead. "Try and get the vomit in the bucket this time," I say as I pat her forehead with the cloth.

"Okay." She says, her eyelids getting heavy from the exhaustion the bottle of vodka has brought her.

We stay like that until I hear the soft sounds of her light snoring. Sighing, I walk into the kitchen, grab a glass of water and place it on her bedside table. Then I walk to my room and fall onto my bed, letting my own exhaustion consume me.