Thank you for all that read the last chapter, especially those who reviewed - lisalilac, Lynne, mkmrider (whose stuff are pretty epic, so go read!). Here is another, following right after the last chapter, but in the third person POV. I may change POV as I write because all the characters, like Ella, needs more depth! Anyhoos, enjoy :D
Grey Room - Damien Rice
Grey eyes tuned to the darkness. Christian felt outside time, an escapee from his harsh reality – but not for long. His legs ached to be stretched – he shifted in vain. Blood was not getting to his extremities, but he'd rather face this darkness than his fiery fury. The shouting had stopped but the sound of sobbing passed through the wood of the cupboard.
Clutching his blanket tighter with his right grubby hand, he gingerly reached for the cupboard door, pushing it to allow a sliver of light into his safe haven. Sensitive grey orbs squinting to adjust to the outside world. Christian stilled his breathing, waiting and looking for signs of danger.
He's gone.
Carefully he opened the door wider, finally stretching his scrawny legs, his stiff muscles relaxing. Ungainly crouching on all fours, he moved towards the grey door, his blanket dragging behind him. Using the door frame, he stood himself up, keeping hidden from view of anyone in the bleak motel room outside.
Mommy?
He stole a peek outside the bathroom.
Mommy! Mommy's hurt!
Ella laid there on the stained carpet beside the couch, one arm clutching her stomach and the other sprawled above her brown hair. Christian ran to her.
Oh Momma. No.
Her crying ebbed into weeping, about her shit situation, about that fucking man, about Christian, her baby...but she couldn't even protect him let alone herself. She wallowed in self-pity and resentment. At everyone. At everything. At herself.
Christian lay beside her, forgetting about his blanket on the littered floor. He brushed his small digits through her messy mane. Tears trickled down his round cheeks. They lay there in silence, until gradually she was too exhausted to cry any longer. Christian was weary too, but he didn't mind being close with her and brushing her hair. Through the brown veil of hair, grey eyes met his own.
Ella saw a frightened little boy. In his eyes, she saw the fear, too much for someone so young. She also saw hurt, pain from the shit he did, shit she didn't do. But hurt that she was hurting. Concern. For me. She thought how pathetic this little boy was, his concern for her was useless – a little boy could never change anything. And moreover, it was not earned – she could never be enough to be a good mother, she never set out to be. This little boy loved her. How stupid, she thought. What does he know about love?
Despite all that, it was all a deflection – a denial of her true feelings. Ella wouldn't admit that she loved this little boy; she was confused by his existence in her life. Here he was, worried for her, even though she thought his existence was an inconvenience. She thought. Now she wasn't too sure. He was her son, who seems to love her endlessly, despite her shortcomings and her faults, unlike anyone else. It was nice to be loved. But unluckily she was his mother, who couldn't care for him. How could she? She was a drug addict who had nothing going for her. Like everyone else, there was an expectation. Her boyfriend expected a submissive whore, her son expected a mother. Something she couldn't be. This ineptitude of motherhood, her little boy so deserved, made her feel unworthy of his love. But it was easier to dismiss this love as obtuse, the little boy's lack of understanding of the world.
The throbbing in her stomach subdued but her heart still hung heavy. Her eyes were sore from the tears shed. Christian moved his fingers from her hair to her face, tracing the bruised lips. To Christian, she was an angel, his Mommy, his friend, his. There were days where she just slept throughout the day, coming home late from work or with her friends. Some days, she had to work longer hours with multiple customers and she couldn't get one of the other girls to watch over him, so she had to tell him to wait in the car. But there were times, rarely but sometimes, they spent some time together at the park or at the mall. Christian wondered when she didn't have to work again, when they could play tag in the mall or go on the swings. He hoped they would soon.
A trace of a smile etched on Ella's face, but it didn't reach her grey eyes.
