Parson Upton
Year 2023, Month July
Rochester, Minnesota
~~

Couple more steps, and you’re home. I shrieked and then made a run for it, weaving in between the flying cars down the highway and into my tattered home. “Thank God,” I breathed out, collapsing onto the small couch in the living room beside my little brother, Jate.

“Glad you made it home,” he said, aimlessly flicking through the TV channels with the remote in his hand, a blank expression on his face, “Mom and dad were getting worried.” I looked over at him and couldn’t help the tired smirk that spread across to my cheeks. Jate was only seven, but he had the attitude and laziness of a thirty-year-old man. My parents are probably in their late fifties, and me being twenty and the most active of the family, I have to go get everything and buy necessities.

“Really? Mom and dad, were getting worried?” I asked, not convinced a single bit that our mom and dad was worried about me. They were either in their room messing around with each other because they were high on meth, or they were in the kitchen getting high on meth so they could go in their bedroom and mess around with each other. It’s either one or the other.

I looked around the corner to see that they weren’t in the kitchen, and I rolled my eyes. We’re trapped in a world like this―almost hell―and they’re getting high off of blunts and rusted old pipes while they’re children are practically fending for themselves on what seems like the other side of their world.

“Parsie, honey,” my mother walked through the kitchen and into the living room and I turned on to my side to face Jate, avoiding her the best I could, “where have you been?”

“Answer your mother when she is speaking to you,” my father’s voice boomed through the house and I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling Jate’s small hand wrap around mine and squeeze it tightly. Probably telling me to snap out of it and listen before I get beat to shit.

“I was out at the grocery store,” I said, sitting up and squeezing Jate’s hand, “Someone around here needed to get some groceries.”

My father’s jaw clenched and ticked in various ways, making me cross my arms. “You know not to mouth off to your mother, young lady,” he barked.

“Bill,” my mom said his name through gritted teeth and he walked up behind her, putting his hand behind her body. It looked like he was touching the small of her back, but I knew damn well that wasn’t what he was touching.

“What are you cooking for dinner, mom?” brave Jate asked and I gave him an affectionate smile, making him scoot up on the couch to sit directly beside me.

“Whatever you can find in the kitchen… I guess,” mom muttered and I felt my bones rattling and my blood boiling at the sound of her laziness. She’ll never change, never.

“Maybe you should run to the store and buy your kids some food. I’m sure they would appreciate the kind gesture of a home cooked meal,” I said with demand in my tone and Jate nodded his head beside me, smiling in a way that made me feel more sorry for him than I did on a daily basis. Only because I knew she wasn’t going anywhere; she was going to stay right here and get high with our dad while Jate and I made dinner in the kitchen.

“Um… Parson… didn’t you buy groceries to make dinner?” she began to stall and I rolled my eyes, wanting to hit her in the face. Unbelievable.

“I said answer your mother when she is speaking to you!” father yelled, and Jate flinched beside me. Although it didn’t phase me, it didn’t scare me one bit. “Did you not hear me, Parson Kayann?”

“Yes, I heard you. I just didn’t want to answer you,” I snapped and Jate buried his face in my shoulder when dad took a step towards me.

“Bill,” mom’s voice came out in a seething tone, but dad looked at her with envy and lust, “Let’s go back to the bedroom, yes? I don’t want you hurting our beautiful children.” The beautiful children you could give a fuck less about, my mind said to me and I fisted my hands, making Jate pass me a reassuring smile.

Our parents have been like this long enough for me to act like this every day, and long enough for Jate to recognize all of my actions. He knows when they have pissed me off just by my movements and the gritting sound my teeth make. Every time I look some where, or close my eyes, Jate knows what I’m thinking. They may sound good, but honestly, it’s fucked up and probably the most stupid thing I’ve ever seen or heard. At least we’re there for each other―that’s all that matters, because I know that our parents aren’t going to be here for us.

“Okay, Jate. What do you want for dinner?” I asked him and he smiled at me, “Would you like… mac and cheese?!” He clapped excitedly and nodded his head. “I knew that’s what you wanted. Come on, you want to help me?”

Jate grabbed my arm and ran me to the kitchen, jumping up onto the counter and pulling out three boxes of mac and cheese from the cabinet. The counter tops were covered in empty beer cans and all of the pans were dirty so we couldn’t boil the water or heat the cheese. Not surprising.

“You know what? Let’s go out for ice cream,” I told Jate and his mouth dropped.

“Really? Ice cream?!” he clapped excitedly again and I nodded my head.

“Yes. I want some ice cream,” I laughed a little, “Now go put your jacket on. It’s a little chilly outside,” I said to him and he dashed to his room. The last time Jate and I had ice cream was about two or three years ago, when he was five, and when our parents were capable of going out somewhere without spending all of their money on drugs or making out with each other in front of everyone. Yeah, those were the days…

Jate ran out of his bedroom with his shoelaces untied and jacket zipped up halfway. “Come on! It’s going to closed before we even get there!” I smiled at my brother’s sudden excitement.

I have to admit, I was pretty excited too, because I can’t remember the last time that Jate and I actually did something together. A lot of our memories were gone when our old house burned down, and we had to fend for ourselves on the streets. Mom and dad reverted to selling drugs on the road and Jate and I had to sell all of our toys and belongings in order to get money to buy and live in a house. That’s when everything wasn’t terrible around us and we could actually walk around the streets and towns without having to carry a pocket knife or gun in our back pockets. I don’t know what I would ever do without Jate. Honestly, he’s like the only reason why I come home every day. I love him more than anything, and I would do anything to keep him safe and away from harm.

“Jate, slow down!” I yelled at him, laughing as I stuffed my pocket knife into the side of my rain boot. “Jate!”

“Okay,” he whined, grabbing my hand when I walked up beside him and he drug me across the street when there wasn’t any cars driving across it. “Look, there’s Ice Cream Corner!” he yelled, pointing to the ice cream shop about two blocks away.

“I see it,” I laughed and he tried to pull me faster but I wouldn’t go any faster. “Jate?” I nudged him with my leg and he looked up at me. “Do you… like it when mom and dad aren’t… around all of the time?” I asked and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know… I mean… it’s quiet,” he said, kicking a rock on the concrete away from him, only to meet up with it and kick it again.

“Oh,” was all I could say and I sighed. When we walked into the ice cream shop, there was a rather large man behind the counter, eating a sub from the Subway across from the shop.

“What do you want?” the man’s voice came out in a gargle and his snaggle tooth was showing, part of his sub flying out of his mouth and landing on the floor in front of Jate. Jate’s nose scrunched up and he stuck out his tongue.

“Two regular chocolate waffle cones,” I told the man and he rolled his eyes and ordered a small woman in the back to fix up our ice cream cones and she groaned loudly. People act like it’s such a big deal to get two ice cream cones. “Here you go,” I said to Jate before handing him his ice cream cone.

“Thank God. They were taking forever,” he complained and I laughed, running my hand over his hair as he took a bite of his ice cream. “Thank you for taking me out, sissy. Mom and dad never take me anywhere,” he paused and looked up at me, “You’re really the only one who plays with me anymore. I don’t have any friends.”

My heart panged and I reached down and grabbed his free hand, “Well.. sometimes you have to fend for yourself in life. Sometimes you have to be your own friend, and your own parent.”

Jate seemed to take a moment to let all of that information sink in, and he looked up at me again. “Is that what you did? Were your own best friend, sissy?”

“Most of the time, yes,” I bent down in front of him and he licked his ice cream cone, the chocolate spreading on his chin. I laughed and wiped it off with my jacket sleeve, “But you were mostly my best friend, Jate.”

Jate collapsed into my arms and sighed, “I love you, Parson.”

“Awh,” I rubbed his back and he licked his ice cream cone again when he pulled away, “I love you, too, Jate.”

Once we were done with our ice cream cones, we threw what was left of them away and started to walk home. It was beginning to get dark, and the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up. I didn’t like the way the atmosphere felt, and it was kind of worrying me. I shrieked when a squirrel ran across the sidewalk in front of us and Jate hit my thigh, laughing at me. I rolled my eyes and laughed at my own idiocy.

All of a sudden, a man stopped in front of us and I grabbed Jate’s shirt collar to keep him close to me. “Why are you two out here all alone? It’s a little late and dangerous, don’t you think?” the man was very tall with black hair, and he was firmly built, making me scared to even talk to him.

“What’s it to your concern?” I snapped, sounding confident but honestly terrified.

“I’m just looking out for you, that’s all…” he gasped when a van pulled up beside us on the street and my heart dropped, “Oh no. I told you it was dangerous.” I glared at the man and another walked up behind Jate and I, making Jate grab onto my hand and bury his face in my jacket. Two more men jumped out of the van beside me and I remembered that I put a pocket knife in my boot. My heart dropped again when one of the men behind me reached into my boot and took the knife out.

“No,” I said, not wanting to move―wanting to think that all of this was a nightmare. A really fucked up nightmare.

“Today’s your lucky day, kids,” the man that approached us earlier said before shoving me so hard that I landed inside of the van; the breath knocked out of me.

“Jate!” I screamed when I saw a bag being put over his head. “No!” I bellowed before a man gagged my mouth by tying a rope around my head to prevent me from screaming. “Jate!” I screamed again but it was muffled, and my spit rose up along with my tears. Fuck. “Let me go!” I screamed when a man stood in front of me, in front of the open van door.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying,” he said before telling another man to go somewhere with Jate, and I began to sob.

“No!” I screamed again and the man in front of me punched my cheek with a brutal force. “Jate,” I sobbed, although I couldn’t understand what I was saying myself.

The man tied my hands up with a rope and I began to kick my feet. “You little bitch,” he barked before tying up my feet and punching my cheek again. I curled up into a ball on the floor of the van to prevent from getting hit again, and the man put a black bag over my head before I blacked out from the pain he had caused me.

Notes

I am so glad to be back...

Kal xx