Eric Donahue:

Freddy's complaints about the food being distasteful are audible, even through the closed doors of our house. The badge of his school gleams on his stiff collar, the fierce light causing me to blink rapidly.

Auntie Caroline catches me looking and turns away, but not without letting out a loud hmph. Her hair has escaped the clutches of her bun and is falling into her eyes as she attempts to pour salt from the salt shaker onto her son's plate. Smacking the bottom of the shaker with the palm of her hand, she grinds her teeth, applying all her strength but to not avail. The salt remains clumped inside, refusing to come out. I would have told her to put some rice in the shaker to help absorb the moisture so as to avoid the clumping, but I don't because she thinks everything I say or do is my stratagem at trying to make them poor like my own father.

Some days, I like to blame my father's poverty for everything that goes wrong in my life too. If he weren't poor, I wouldn't be struggling to survive at Auntie Caroline's mercy or allowing myself to be beaten up by the measly little Freddy, who by the way, is four years younger than me. My life would have been completely different had my dad toughened up in his youth and studied like his brother, whose house we are living in.

Some days, I also like to blame Uncle Roy. He is my dad's brother after all—couldn't he have stopped my dad from loafing around in his youth? But it is really hard to blame Uncle Roy for anything because he is a pretty cool dude. It is a pity his job as a marine engineer entails travelling around a lot, so he is rarely home. In his presence, Auntie Caroline and Freddy both behave themselves. In fact, he is the only reason Auntie Caroline has kept us in this house. If it were in her control, she wouldn't even spare a split second to throw us all out.

And then there is Mom. She is the epitome of wisdom. She is also really gorgeous and so great at heart; I sometimes wish she would have married Uncle Roy instead. Not because I would replace my dad due to his poverty, but because my mom deserves the world. She says cool stuff which makes it impossibly hard for you not to love her. I have never told her or Uncle Roy that I wished they would have married each other because, boy, would that be weird, but I still secretly hope that they will. I don't know what will become of Dad when that happens, but I guess I'll stay with him in his old age because his limbs will become weak and his teeth will fall out and somebody would have to crush his food and take his dogs out on a walk for him.

"Eric! Are you home?" I hear Mom calling out to me.

I rush upstairs to her crummy room, where I find her sitting on her lumpy bed which voices its protests against the weight on it in creaks and groans. I notice that she has removed the torn up roller blinds so that the sunlight from outside shines unfettered into her room. She is sitting in all the mess; walls with the cracked paint, broken floorboards, cramped room, patched up clothes, like a queen waiting to be recused. Her black hair is tied back into a fierce ponytail and I imagine her wearing a crown. It fits her head like Cinderella's shoe, like it was made just for her.

I beam at her. "Hello, Mom."

"Hey, Eric," she smiles back. "How was school?"

"So much fun! Mr. Keating is probably the best teacher ever." She motions me to sit, patting the space in front of her. I comply, then decide to lie down, placing my head on her lap. I look up to meet her gaze. "Mom, did you know that the sun is also a star? Also, remember that you forgot to take the spice from the deep freezer the other day and you tried to open it immediately after closing it but it wouldn't budge? That is because of pressure difference."

She ruffles my hair and listens intently. "Really?"

"Yes. Opening the freezer causes the cold air to move out and that gets replaced by the warm air. When we close the door, we seal the warm air inside and it contracts as it cools. This creates a negative pressure which prevents the freezer from being opened immediately."

"Then why does it open after a while?"

"Because more air is drawn in through drain tubes and the pressure inside the freezer returns to the room pressure over time."

"Woah!" she says, tucking my fringe behind my ear. "That is so cool, isn't it?"

I sit up. "Yes! There are so many other things I learned too. I can't wait to tell you all of them."

"And I can't equally wait to listen!" she squeals. "But first, are you hungry?"

I nod. "But I don't think Auntie Caroline is going to give us any food today."

Mom scrunches her eyebrows. "Whatever makes you say that?"

"Freddy was complaining about the food being bland when I came home. I am pretty sure he was lying to get you in trouble with Auntie Caroline because I know you make amazing food."

Gently, Mom reaches out to lift my chin up with the tip of her index finger, levelling my gaze with hers. "Eric, honey, what did I tell you about assuming things?"

"But Mom-"

"No arguments. Give Freddy the benefit of doubt. Maybe my food is bland to him. Keeping yourself away from negativity like this will only make you happier."

"I think I made a new friend today, Mom."

She smiles widely so that her teeth are showing. "Really? Who?"

"Well, it is a girl."

"And that is nothing to be ashamed of. Correct?"

"Correct."

"What's her name?"

"Carla." I point to the window in Mom's room from where you can view the cemented wall of her house. "She lives next door."

"Oh, Carla," she says, nodding. "I know her. I mean, I have seen her walking down the street some times. She seems like such a nice girl."

"Yeah, I think so too. Do you know her parents?"

Mom shakes her head. "I am afraid not. They rarely leave the house, but then again, it is not like I go out every day myself." She sighs, then waves a dismissive hand. "But none of that matters anyway. She lives right next to us, so your father and I don't have to be concerned about your safety. You can easily go to her house over the vacations as well."

I look down at my hands. "But I can't invite her over to mine?"

She takes my hand in hers. Her hands are callused and rough, raw from all the acid in the dishwashing soap. They have the texture of worn out leather, but they are still warm and welcoming, just like her voice as she consoles me. "You know the rules, Eric," she drawls out my name, squeezing my hand. "No guests when Auntie Caroline is around. She is strictly against having anyone around."

I try to pry my hands out of Mom's hold. "That's unfair. Auntie Caroline and her cronies get to come over all the time."

She smiles sadly. "Well, it is her house, Eric. We are nobody to tell her what to do."

"But that's. Not. Right," I yell, drawing each word out with forced emphasis. Succeeding in releasing my hand out of Mom's grip, I spring off the bed in a sudden motion. "Just because she is in a position of authority does not mean she gets to do everything she wills."

"Unfortunately, Eric, that's exactly what it means. And I don't want to sugar coat this situation for you, wrap a bitter truth up in washy paper so it appears nice, but your auntie can do whatever she wants because we're living under her roof." Mom extends her hand out, and I take it. Her voice is velvety and soft when she speaks. "I am sorry it has to be this for you, honey, but we are trying. Dad's trying. We are all working hard and saving up so we don't have to rely on anybody's mercy."

I swallow through the pressure in my throat and look up to see the shimmer of tears in Mom's eyes as well. She envelops me in her arms, planting a kiss on my disheveled hair. The despair at our situations attempts to push itself out of my body through a single tear, and my mom whispers to let it all out. She carefully swipes her finger through my moisture laden lashes, all the while whispering that together we will make it okay, that Dad's working hard and I'll have to work hard and this is how stars our born. I lean my head against her shoulder as she continues to console me, her optimism and belief battling the despair in my heart; a single light slowly fighting away the dark negativity with a dazzling radiance.

****

Author's note: Hi guys! I am INCREDIBLY sorry for missing update day. Honestly, college has just started and the unbelievable amount of hours I have to spend interacting with humans is already beginning to stress me out. Sucks to be introverted when you have to spend 9 hours being social and friendly. But enough about me. Tell me about your day, your writing projects, your goals & your stories. I hope you are updating them properly and not slacking off like myself.

Also, important notice: I am shifting update day to Sunday because it's the only day I don't have college/club/student council meetings and naturally, I have more time to write up the next chapter for you.

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to spill your thoughts on this chapter. It always makes me a bit queasy to write a sad scene because it isn't exactly my area of expertise. But I hope it wasn't too bad. Do let me know what you think!

Until next time,
RZ.