So Norma had moved. And she hadn't even told Dylan, her own son. It didn't surprise him, but as he stood outside of her former home, the one that held nearly all of his dirty little secrets in those stained walls, he couldn't help but notice a familiar sting in his chest. She had never loved him. Not really. He had always been her biggest mistake.

Dylan took one last puff of his cigarette before throwing in the yard in disgust and then turned away from the house, walking back to his beat up old bike. He sat there and glanced at the old house, half expecting to see Norma standing in the yard screaming at Sam as he got in the car, hollowly threatening to never come back. Dylan spent so many nights praying those threats would become solid one day.

He pulled his phone out and found Norma's contact. His finger hesitated over her contact, which resided in his phone by the name of The Whore. He had been wasted when he named it, as he often was these days, but he decided to keep it, seeing that it was truthful.

After what seemed like an eternity, he made himself press the green call button. It rang so many times that Dylan began to think she would just ignore his call. It wouldn't be the first time she had. Just as he had given up hope of her answering, he heard Norma's voice, familiar and haunting. He was flooded with memories in an instant. Norma coddling Norman in the room next to Dylan's, giving him all the affection Dylan had ever dreamed of having, but was glad to let his brother have so he didn't have to suffer like Dylan did. Norma spitting in Dylan's face when he came home drunk at twelve years old. Norma yelling at Norman to leave the room as Sam beat the shit out of Dylan.

Dylan had an immediate urge to hang up. Just the sound of her voice on his phone made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He could find another way to get some money fast. He would find a way to survive. He always found a way. But he knew in his gut that Norma was his last chance. He swallowed and took a deep breath.

"Hello, Norma." Dylan said, as snide as possible. "I see you've left town. Or at least that's what the new owners of your house say. They also say a tragedy happened here. It seems Sam was killed in some sort of accident. You must feel so distraught, Norma, losing your husband and all."

The line was silent on Norma's end, except for the sound of her no doubt angered breathing. Dylan smiled a little. He felt victorious, happy even, knowing that he could cause her anger. He didn't know why. Something about knowing that he could evoke any emotion in her made him feel... Well, like he meant SOMEthing to her.

"I lost my job, Norma." Dylan said it with more caution than he had intended. He cleared his throat. "Where are you?"

There was a long pause on Norma's end. "Leave us alone, Dylan," Norma finally responded. "You're a disease, and we've been sick long enough. Stay away." The line clicked, and there was silence.

Dylan closed his phone and sat silently for a few moments. Her words echoed in his head, blocking out everything else. Dylan was a disease. That sounded about right. His whole life he had never been anything more than Sam's punching bag and Norma's knife rack, each word she spoke bore into him, leaving more scars than he could have ever imagined possible.

Dylan pulled out another cigarette and lit up, breathing in a long, deep, refreshing cloud of smoke. He closed his eyes and thought long and hard about how to find Norma. She was his last chance. If he couldn't find her soon, he didn't know where he would go, what he could do. Staying with friends was out. He had none. Dylan was never one for serious relationships, so staying with a girlfriend was impossible. He was more prone to have one night of wonderful drunken sex with the first cheap girl he could find at whatever bar he found himself cowering in, then getting his shit together, leaving without so much as a "have a nice day."

No. He had to find Norma. One way or another, he would find her. He had survived twenty-one long years of torture and misery. This would not be his downfall. He would find Norma, and he would save himself. And maybe, just maybe, he could save his little brother in the process.