Just Go

A child is listening to his parents argue one late night, not understanding what was going on.

"I can't believe you!" She screamed.

The rain was pelting down on the roof now, the leaking ceilings splattering water into small tin buckets. The room held an air of frustration and anger, which was bubbling up the sides of its container, slowly threatening to burst. The rain hit the framed windows, washing away the soot from the nearby construction sites.

Her face was getting red now, her fists clenched at her sides. You could almost see the fire of hate inside her eyes. Her blonde hair looked as if it hadn't been washed or brushed in a number of days, which would make any person immodestly take a few steps back from her.

"Well, what did you expect? You married me, me of all people, and expected me to be-"

"To be loyal!" She interrupted , screaming so loud it caught in her throat. "To be there for me - for our son! But you're never here!"

He crossed his arms and leaned his back against the hallway wall. "I never meant for it to end this way,"

"Oh, darn me, you're just ending it?" She shook her head, frizzy hair bouncing. "I can't believe you. I can't even look at you. Just go!"

The little boy clutched his blanket in his arms as he watched from the small apartment's stairway. He barely understood what the fight was about, but knew that he might as well have something to do with it. Guilt bubbled in his stomach. His eyes watered.

"Mommy?" He asked softly, calling for his parents attention.

The mother's eyes widened. "Oh, honey-"

"Mommy," the little boy swallowed. "I can go instead,"

They were silent for a few moments. It seemed that all of the tension had leaked from the old, rusty room. Questions were bubbling inside of every body, but no one voiced them. 

The father shook his head. "That's not how it works, son."

The mother gathered her son in her arms, tucking some hair behind his ear. "Don't worry about us," she said softly, tears in her eyes. "You're not going anywhere,"

"But what about you? What about daddy?"

The mother sighed. "We don't know yet, we don't know,"

Author's Note

This was just one of my depressed stories, you know, the ones you just let leak out onto the paper when you are feeling that cold, ignorant feeling - sadness. I'm not usually this gloomy, but sometimes you just have to let it out.

Reviews

[Sam]

Wow!! that was really good! I enjoyed reading it so much.