So, it's the last chapter. Boy is Scales a cynical little kid...
Un-beta'ed, so quibble away.
- o – o -
Chapter three: Imaginary
Seven-year-old Scales knew, from an early age, that there was more wrong with him than just looking like a freak. For one thing, there was McClintock and his endless string of girlfriends (most of whom were drunk half the time, so they didn't count). For another, there was the fact that, unlike the rest of the circus brats, he didn't have a mother. (Or a father, but considering what day it was, he hardly thought that mattered. The todger didn't count as a parent.)
Today was Mother's Day. He didn't have one. His aunties didn't count—to be brutally honest, they kinda scared him, and they only liked him when he was hurt really bad. All of the other circus kids—the ones who had families that loved them—were celebrating it by doing something nice for their mothers. The meanest kids enjoyed teasing him about it, but Scales had learned to ignore them ages ago.
Besides, who needed a mother anyways? It wasn't like they were going to do anything important… (His mummy was probably the reason he was stuck in the stupid circus, being beaten by Mr. McClintock instead of making stupid cards that she'd like… Maybe.)
If he did have a mother who loved him, Scales wanted her to be tall. And blond—the elephant man's wife was blond, and her hair was curly and bouncy. She was nice (and slipped him cookies that kinda made his tummy hurt if he ate them too fast). Scales decided that if his mummy still wanted him and was looking for him, she'd look exactly like Mrs. R.
The seven-year-old curled up on the hard-packed dirt underneath McClintock's trailer and watched an ant crawl by, carrying part of a leaf. His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten. If he had a mummy, he'd have made her breakfast—eggs and toast, and hot chocolate. (That was what his aunties liked, when he got to stay with them. He usually only got toast, though.)
Scales sighed and rolled onto his back. Mother's Day was stupid and overrated. And who needed it anyways?
He didn't.
…but if he did, he'd have made a card for Mrs. R.
- o – o -
So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Want poor kid!Scales to finally catch a break for once? Drop a line and let me know!