Hello and welcome back readers.
Yes it is me again; the one and only crappy writer who has managed to obtain 400 views on his story. 400… FOUR FRICKING HUNDRED
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Right. Story. Below. Enjoy X)
Midnight Madness- Amber
TO FRICKING LATE FOR THIS SHIT!
Motherhood, or in my case sisterhood, has a very humanizing effect on you. Many people have stated this before, and many more will continue to say it. The annoying fact; I doubt there will ever be a day in this world, in which it does not ring completely and utterly true. It's a strange, amazing, terrifying, life changing, experience for anyone to go through. One that not only permanently changes you, but does so without you really noticing.
Your mind slowly switches from a selfish, survival of the fittest mentality, to a selfless caring one. You go from gorging yourself on food and drink whenever you can, to skipping or giving up full meals, just so your other half doesn't have to go hungry. You even end up lying to them to make sure they don't suspect what's going on, and don't fret or feel bad for your sacrifices. Suddenly your working day in and day out, not just for yourself, but for the good of both of you. Taking on extra jobs, or extra risks, just so you can guarantee their survival. It's no longer about your own comfort and survival, but theirs.
You can't explain the experience to anyone, nor will there ever be words that will let you do so. I know that better than most people, especially after living with Hannah for so many years.
I've pretty much given up trying to explain to others why I protect and care for her. To them, she's nothing more than another mouth to feed and a liability to their own safety; thus not worth the time or money. So when asked why I would "cripple" myself like that, I usually just giving generic open ended answers or pretending that she's actually family. Seems if there is one thing that people always understand, it's the strength of family ties. Bloods thicker than money after all.
Not that she made it easy for me to justify looking after her, what with being the little trouble maker she is and all. I've lost count of the number of times I seem to swoop in at the last possible moment to save her from one sticky situation or another. Be it wild animals she was "trying to befriend"; rival gangs who think she heard something sensitive, or even from a rabid cat she decided she "had to have".
It was that specific thought that made me pause outside the door to our little apartment, keys loudly jingling and ringing up and down the deserted hall way of the beat up old building.
It was more of a habitual pause at this point, than anything else. Serving no other purpose than to give me just a few more seconds of reprieve with which to prepare my mind, for the possible cacophony of chaos that may lay just behind this door.
Not that I could really blame myself for this slightly paranoid habit. No, not after the incident that resulted in the addition of that fat fur ball, Hannah calls Millie. Honestly how was I to know, that there was a six pound mass of fur and sharp claws perched on top of the door frame?!
Ever since then, I have never once come home knowing exactly I would find behind that door. Most nights, it's Hannah simply making a small meal for us before bed. Other evenings, she could have very well pissed off the god damn Mafia, and be in the midst of surviving an assassination attempt.
Taking a deep breath, I attempted to do my usual mental prep, trying to make myself as ready as possible, for the multitude of possible surprises Hannah may, or may not have waiting for me behind door number one.
I say attempted because in reality my physically exhausted body, and even more mentally drained mind, decided at that moment that prep work was for "losers", and with no time to even debate it, went and shutdown on me. Leaving me alone, and unable to do anything else but drunkenly stager through the doorway, and into our little apartment.
For a blissful few seconds upon entry, I honestly thought that everything was ok, that there would be no surprises for me this evening, and I could go straight to bed no problem. It wasn't until I was a solid few steps into the apartment that my brain started to notice that something was up.
Looking back, honesty I should have seen the warnings and prepped for what would eventually come. But then, in my current mental state, I considered simply not collapsing onto the floor in a sore, tangle heap of flesh and bone, to be a herculean effort.
The first warning light went off when I saw the random stranger, lying unconscious, or dead, on the floor next to a rather complacent and bored looking Hannah. Second warning light was tripped when I noticed the temperature and the sheer amount of sunlight that filled the apartment.
The red lights and sirens went off as my gaze was dragged up to the roof, ready to take in the rather nice new skylight that must have been installed to allow all this extra sun light in. Only instead of a nice new skylight, I was met with a large, gaping hole, roughly the same size as the boy who currently occupied our kitchen floor.
I'm sure I looked very attractive standing there with my mouth hanging open, much like a gaping fish out of water. Shaking and shuddering in anger and confusion, wondering, among other things, just how in the HELL Hannah could have possibly pulled this off. Failing that, praying that I was either hallucinating or had simply gone completely insane.
Between the ramped thought running wild in my head, and my own exhaustion, I damn near almost convinced myself that I must have passed out on the train and was simply dreaming.
Of course it was Hannah, sweet, little, innocent Hannah, who just HAD to go and burst my fantasy bubble with her simply darling question of "how was your day". Her beautiful little voice acting as an excellent wake up call, and reminding me just how much I wanted to KILL her, right after I my explanation of what in the hell happened.
My eyes bored holes into her skull as I stared her down. Willing my questions directly into her brain. Demanding answers soon and promising pain if the answer is not up to my liking.
I watched her slowly falter under my gaze. Grinning like a mad man as she kept shrinking back further and further, until finally she spoke again.
"It was totally NOT my fault this time it was all him I swear on my mother's possibly existent grave and you can ask him as soon as he wakes up what happened but I am telling you it was not me this time."
Her words came out so fast I barely kept up with the pace she was setting. Her nervous voice turning into more of a panicked babble the more she talked. My eyebrows practically shot to the sky the longer she spoke, more out of disbelief of what she was claiming.
I raised a hand slowly up in front of me, and waited for her babble to finally start to slow and then stop.
"Let me get this straight", I spoke softly, straining every syllable in an attempt to sound calm. "You were doing nothing more than playing up on the roof with Millie, saw this guy jump from the building next to us onto our apartment's roof, he nearly hits you doing so, ends up going through said roof and dragging you down with him, and is now he is unconscious on the floor? Is that about right?"
Hannah practically beamed as she nodded in agreement; happier to hear that I understood she was not at fault for the destruction…. This time anyways.
I let out a small sigh as my sleep deprived brain slowly processed all of the new information I was being given, trying to find a solution to the mess that had literally fallen in on us.
"Alright two final questions. One, are you ok? Two, he's not… dead right?" My voice cracking a little as I tried to maintain the calm tone I was using.
A quick pat down and thumbs up was my answer to the first one, and a fast flurry of nods and yes's was my answer to the second. She practically yelled most of them at me before explaining how she had checked for a pulse to make sure, and thought he would probably just injured and knocked out from his fall. Her explanation of his condition quickly turning into more of a ramble as she spoke of the mess he had made.
My heart swelled with pride, as I listened to her explain all the details of the encounter and his possible leg related injury, how she had cleaned up as best she could before I arrived home, and how mad she was that he had messed up her previous surprise cleaning, and how she wasn't sure what we could do with him, and how she needed my help to move him.
It was moments like this that she always seemed to shine. Her natural intelligence and memory serving her to their full potential and acting as a sort of anchor, keeping her calm and collected during situations where most people would have panicked. Twelve years old and she seemed to speak and act with more maturity than I do at times.
"I was thinking we could move him into the bedroom, until he wakes up. That way we can keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't try to bolt before he pays for the damage he caused", She explained, eyeing the culprit as if he was moldy piece of bread, rather than a person. Not that my first impressions of the guy were any better at this point.
"Bedroom eh?" I spoke softly and slowly, giving myself plenty of time to ponder and pick away at the idea she had just given me. A quick glance at senior dead meat himself yielded no real threats, and a tired brain yielded no other real options, other than the window.
"Alright." I agreed with a sigh, quickly moving to grab his arms and literally drag him into the other room, not really caring about the rough wood floor he was being dragged across. After all, I reasoned that splinters would be the least of his problems when he finally got around to waking up.
I dumped him on his back, in the floor space beside our "bed", making sure to at least not bang his head on the floor, out of fear it would keep him unconscious for even longer. I let out a long sigh of frustration as I looked down and inspected our impromptu guest.
He really was a mess after that fall. His skin and clothing were all completely coated in a fine layer of dust; his hair was completely disheveled and filled with bit of drywall and wood chips, hell, he even had a few minor scrapes and cuts along his arms and legs. Nothing serious, but enough to warrant a band-aid and some disinfectant when he got home, where ever that was for him.
Originally when I first saw him, I pegged him as a rich kid from the upper part of town, mostly because of the music player he had. Now that I was seeing him up close though, I decided that description didn't fit. His cloths were all lose fitting, and not name brand, more function than fashion by the looks of it, and he had no jewelry or other electronics on him. His darker, short cut hair didn't have any gel or other product in it, nor did it smell like he was wearing any cologne. Or deodorant for that matter, as my nose wrinkled at the smell of sweat, dust and dirt. Not a great combination by any standards.
Not that any of that mattered really, after all, so long as he repaid them for the damages he caused, she didn't care about his story or life or name even was.
A small creak of the floor boards was all the warning I got, before a couple of warm arms snaked there way around her waist. Their owner nestling up against my back affectionately as she snuck her arms all the way around for a tight hug.
A smile crept to my face, as I stood there, trapped in the loving and dreaded bear hug of my little Hannah.
"Amber?" Came the soft voice from behind me.
"Yes honey?"
"You should sleep." A small yawn emanated from my back as she finished speaking.
"Seems today's dramatic events took a toll on someone as well." I teased softly, earning me a couple of tired giggles in response.
"That bed does look pretty enticing" I admitted slowly, glancing towards the bundle of yoga mats, blankets a clothing we called a bed. Slowly taking a step towards it with Hannah still attached to me.
Sadly though it was at that moment, my legs, my wonderful hard working legs, which had be such troopers all day, decided to give out. Knees buckled from under me, and with Hannah still latched to my back, I could do nothing more than fall face first onto the mats with a muffled "womph".
Being the loving and caring sister she is, Hannah of course decided that instead of checking up on my condition, and making sure that I was ok, that she would instead roll around on the floor laughing for a few minutes.
"I can really feel the love right now" I muttered dejectedly, as I dragged myself into a more comfortable position on the bed, waiting patiently for my little troublemaker to finish laughing at me so we could sleep.
Still giggling, she slowly crawled under the blankets to join me, before making show of snuggling up right next to me, and using me as a human pillow.
"Comfy?" I muttered dryly, the hints of a smile playing on the edges of my mouth.
A small hum of approval was her only response.
"Sleep well" I whispered, planting a light kiss on the top of her head.
A soft hum was the final sounds she made before sleep claimed her.
My own rest claiming me but a second later.