Friday, May 20, 2011

Pie

It's not that long of a walk from work home. It's a lonely walk, 3 in the morning, dark and cold. Even more dark tonight without the power. Everything seems so deserted in Watershed Heights lately with out the lights of the diner, the tv's blasting. The only noise you can hear are the cars, and of course, my dear April. <--the loudest thing here. While I walk, I smell a faint smell of apples. The closest apple orchard is way far out of town, kind of close to where my parents live. I've grown quit familiar with the smell of apples because of being raised so close to one. I smell the apples, cinnamon, dough. It smells like home. Who could be cooking this? The power's out. I see a line of people in front of the diner. It must be them. Sister Topaz wouldnt mind if i was a few minutes late, right? it's already 3. I'll bring her home a piece. I approach the line, i spy many people I know. I here the faint cries of a baby. It rings a bell in my head. Others thought the pie to be cherry, blueberry, pecan. But no, definetly apple. No doubt about it. I reached the back of the line only to see Leland Jack holding my baby. I was puzzled at first, and ran to see what was going on. He calmly stated that Sister Topaz was in the bathroom and needed someone to hold April. I grabbed April and could see the sleep in her eyes. It was 3 am. Why would she be up right now?
Sister Topaz returned, and immediatly uttered the words, "i'm sorry" from across the room. Leland offered us a spot in line in front of him. We got our pie. Apple, of course. And returned home where silence struck yet again as April took a bite of her pie.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Birthdays.

Yet another meal out with April. Let's just knock on wood we don't come across another severed man's head this time. Although, luck never worked for me before. Let's just hope.
I got off work tonight, it's April's birthday. So I figured what kind of shitty mother would I be if i didnt help her celebrate. So i'm taking her to the bar. They have a cheap kids menu during the day. Gotta make due. We walk in, were greated by lovely Topaz. It wouldn't be a celebration if she weren't there. They accept anyone at the bar. We get our table for three and our waitress exclaims that they don't have high chairs. "Why in the hell would we have high chairs at a bar?". Once again, got to make due. April can sit in my lap. I don't have money for me to eat anyways. I smell a funny smell. Not completely abornamal for watershed heights, but a homeless man walks in. Someone greets him by saying Remus. I assume his name is remus. April, crying, stops and looks at him. A moment of silence. I like anyone or thing that can get her to shut up. He turns around. I get a wiff of urine and dirt. He seems to be bloodied on his face. A broken nose perhaps. We get our menus and April chooses spaghetti. I know damn well that she won't eat spaghetti. But, the kids gotta get what she's gotta get. I never stop spoiling her. I just hope that one day something will make her happy enough for her to shut up. The guy i learned was remus, walked around the bar for awhile, asking to do work. He was pushed aside and looked quite dischevaled. The waitress came with the spaghetti. Silence.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Confused.

As I walk to the Vietnamese Restaurant to meet Mikayla, April again, throws another fit. Lord only knows what this damn baby is crying about. Cause I sure as hell don't. I just tend to block it out, and accept the rude looks. Anyways.. While I was walking to eat, I noticed icky, brown sewage water flowing out of our sewage system. Yet another charming aspect of Watershed Heights. I ask myself once again why I'm here. April stops crying. A sense of confusion rushes my mind. She starts to laugh, even more confusion arrives now. To add to my confusion, i look down to see a mans severed head lying on the ground, clogging the manhole. Being as I am numb to most grusome things, I walk off. Right when April takes her eyes off of the dead mans head, the crying begins again.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Stress.

April won't stop crying. I don't get it. I do all that I can do to be a good mom. All that I can do as a 17 year old at least. A single mom, at that. I don't get off work at Second Chances until 3 A.M and by then, April is already asleep. I've tried everything I can to maintain a good life for April. One that my parents never gave to me. It's forced me to turn to things that aren't necessarily good for Aprils' life. All my friends have moved on and I am stuck here living on the 4th floor at Watershed Heights. Sister Topaz is very very helpful to me. She watches April when I'm working for extra tips at work.