How I Live Now

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Epilogue

Jeez, it's been a while, huh? Actually, I kinda forgot about this book. It got tossed to the bottom of a footlocker in my bedroom, and it's been there for… hmm… three, four months, I reckon. I'm sorry I don't write much anymore. I feel that I don't need to write anymore. The thing is, my life is actually looking up. Things are less than stellar, but alright. But I've been nervous about this day for a while. It's the big day. I've finished my community service, no more working out in the cold, no more late evenings, early mornings. I'm a free man. However, the whole ordeal wasn't too terrible; I've even learned a few things. The walking stick thing… the crutch I'd been using for a while, is also gone. I can walk without assistance. The physiotherapy has been working well, and I'm almost back to my whole self, not that I'll ever be like I used to be. Sometimes while I am sitting around, when my mind goes wandering. I can swear I feel the bullets still inside me. I have no reason not to believe them, the doctors. They said they got all the bullet fragments, but I'm pretty sure something is still inside me. I get pain in my back every so often, but thankfully not today.

I woke up with this perky mood. Crawling from the bed, I used the crutch, but once I was up, I didn't need it anymore. I showered, got ready, and put a shit ton of deodorant on. I'd be meeting Matias for the first time this month. I could only visit him once a month, which sucked, but at least I still got to see him in juvie. Last time he'd been pretty bummed out, he said the place was difficult, and Matias said he was afraid. Amy and I had been worried about him as he turned up with a black eye once, and he seemed reluctant to talk about how he got it. The look in his eyes confirmed this notion of how petrified he was inside. Yet, knowing Matias, he didn't let anybody else but me and his mom know about it. He has two months left before his release, and supposedly it's due to good behavior. I'd been thinking all day of that two-second hug. The only time where we are permitted to have contact. It's like every time I gave him a hug, he'd melt away, and it made me feel bad for even coming. Except, it's like he lived to see me. He was trying his very best to get out, so he could spend time with me. And, so the day started like all the other times, I visited Matias in juvie.

Mom had left for work. She'd been working two jobs for this piece of shit trailer we live in now. It was home, though, and it was away from dad. Not that he bothered to come looking for us, he just sent the divorce papers to my mom, and he tried to take everything she owned. She really did give up everything for me, and this whole perfect family shit was actually kinda working better than I assumed it would. Not that we don't have our teething problems, but she really was trying to set us up for a better life. I've even gone back to school, but today I got the day off. I'd be going to see Matias, and that's what mattered. I just had my breakfast cereal.

Cleaning the mess from the breakfast up, I figured she'd be outside any minute, so I stuck on my shoes and brought scraps to the bin.

I was getting stronger, so it was my duty to bring the trash out every day. Doing so, I noticed a letter sitting under a mug of cold coffee on the countertop by the bin. Subconsciously, I glanced around, making sure mom was away and then lifted the cup from the envelope. The trash bag dangled from one arm, and in the other, I raised the letter. Upending it, I noticed that it had been previously opened, the jagged tears poking out the flap. So, dropping the trash, I withdrew the sheet of paper inside, opened it, and then sighed. I'd forgotten about the hospital business, but those finances would hang over my head for the rest of my life. They weren’t paid, not that we had that kind of money just hanging around. If we did, I’d be spending it. Plus, I'd buy an upgrade, a better house than this tin can. It had been hard, personal space being a premium. I'm just happy to have a place called home and with everyone being alive. Mom is working herself to the bone, keeping up with the demand of being a single parent, and she's hell-bent I finish out my final year in high school. Mom never told me about the letter from the hospital; she still hasn't. I figure she wants me to keep looking forward, not worry about medical expenses.

Sighing, I returned the letter to the envelope, plucked up the trash, and headed out. Walking to the edge of the plot, I dropped the hefty bag of trash in the garbage. It was cool out, and the early morning air bit at my nose and ears. The sky was orange, with streaks of yellow sunlight bursting onto the blue canvas. The frost and dew were beginning to melt. It was then mom drove up the trailer, stopping on the tarmac by the plot we rented. We really went backward in the socioeconomic class. Mom was between jobs, and seeing that she was heading out that way toward the correctional facility, she said I could get a ride there. She beeped, then smiled when she saw me. I motioned for her to hold up, and I ran back to the trailer, got my jacket, locked up, and ran back to the car.

Mom sold the other car she drove to St. Clement in when she first got here. It paid for a months’ rent, six weeks of food, new shoes for me, and a pizza. The pizza was a treat. We do these things now, have treat nights, and it's kinda neat.

Hoping into the front passenger seat, I slammed the door. Mom grinned; her smile had something to it these past few months. It seemed like she was proud and perhaps enjoying the time we spent together more than she ever did.

“You nervous?” Mom asked.

Setting the car in drive, we started on our way. The vehicle wobbled as it traveled along the cracked and obliterated tarmac. It made the holes on the moon look pathetic, but these holes had been filled in with loose chippings to make the impact of navigating them less brutal. I shook my head, indicating that I wasn't nervous about the meeting. I always feared that Matias would wake up one morning and wouldn't want to see me, or he'd want to break up. We are sorta boyfriends now, but I'm still scared shitless. I've never been in love before or in a relationship. So, I don't know if we are doing things correctly. I also feared that he'd forget me, you know, since the visitations were so far between each other.

"What if he forgot me?" I asked as we turned onto the main road. Its condition is better than the trailer park lanes but held together with patches.

Mom chuckled, “you…? fat chance.”

The little compliment put me at ease, so I grinned back. I don't know why I was so worried about Matias forgetting me. I've been worrying a lot since I woke up. I've also seen a psychiatrist… or whatnot. It came with the community service. He thought I had some form of PTSD. I've been looking over my shoulder, feeling anxious about some things, but I know Salvatore is dead. He won't be coming back to get me. However, sometimes I think about that old guy Sonny. I wonder what he is doing? I never got to speak to Matias about what might have transpired. Maybe it's something we can talk about when we are on a better track.

Mom dropped me off in front of the building, saying good luck. Of course, we ran through that stupid list she keeps on her cell phone for every visit. Make sure to have your I.D., and your phone, your wallet, keys. I hugged her, exited the car, and made my way to the gate. Mom drove off to her next appointment; I'd see her later.

Amy met me at the gate; she'd been a little late. She had this graceful smile bestowed on her face; it just rubbed off on me. The officers probably thought I was high on something when we entered, smiling so damn hard as I laid everything I had in my pockets in a plastic bucket for the scanner. I showed my I.D. to the guard, and we were through to the other side. It's a pain putting everything back into your pockets afterward. But it was all worth it to see Matias. We eventually made our way out to the common hall and took a seat at the table and bench, waiting for Matias. Finally, Matias came out dressed in a baggy grey tracksuit featuring a wide wicked smile. A mixture of sadness and happiness flashed through me. He looked good, plus the black eye had healed since the last time.

Matias stopped shy of the table, and figuring I needed to make the next move, I stood, walked, and closed Matias in a firm hug. He'd lost some weight, but he still had the sweet smell, only it was soapier. God, I missed his scent. He looked at me quizzically when he saw that I was taking lungful’s of his fragrance. Yet, that smile broke out on his face. And not wanting to upset the guards, we separated. Matias stepped back and stood awkwardly. He did that weird thing with his feet. Of course, I found it adorable. It's his thing.

Soon, Amy couldn't hold out for her hug, and she went to get one. When we sat, we talked… like a lot about what Matias planned on doing once he got out. He joked that he wanted to be a baker, but we thought about it seriously after some ridicule and plenty of laughing.

We spoke about everything he missed. Everything I missed. I even learned what slop out means. It's a designated time reserved for prisoners to clean out human waste accumulated during lock-up times. It made us laugh, Matias learning prison slang. Picturing how full some folk's toilets would be. However, as long as he kept his head down and behaved, I'd see him in a few weeks, this time on my side of the fence. And so that's about how my day went, talking to Matias, sitting at the table with his mother. We never spoke about why he handed himself over or why he took all the blame. However, I think he wanted to protect me from himself. He needed a hard reset, and perhaps this was the only way he could do it.

And so… that's about the sum of it. I'm going to head off to bed. My first day as a free man starts tomorrow, no early starts. Sure, I have school, but no slave labor. I've only got twenty-nine more days until I get to see Matias again, and well… I can already anticipate how it will feel to hug him, my arms wrapped around him, inhaling his deep boyish smell of bubble gum and soap.

Talk soon,

Kyle

The End

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Thank you for reading. If you wish to let me know what you through of the story you can drop an email. I always try to reply, but good and bad feedback.

Send mail to danny2017writing@outlook.com

I have written many adventure, drama and romance books with LGBTQI+ characters. Visit my website to browse my full bibliography. You can also sign up for my mailing list to ensure you don't miss any fun future updates. 

View Website

Please rate the story on Goodreads ahead of its release, so, I can raise the popularity of the story.

Click Here