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by Adair Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Other · #1661812
Jacob seems like a normal little boy, but he has a dark secret waiting at home...
Jacob trudged home from his bustop in the lightly falling November snow. He pulled his hood up around his face to keep out the brisk wind and readjusted his Spider-Man backpack. He hoped Mommy was home already. The meant she was sleeping or being good. When Mommy came home late she usually brought men with her or was really angry. He hoped she was having a happy day.

As Jacob approached his house, a feeling of dread came over him. The dirty windows were gaping dark holes - Mommy wasn't home. She hadn't locked the door, so Jacob crept inside. He took off his worn coat and boots, making sure to put them away in the hall closet. Then he went to the kitchen and got a box of macaroni and cheese out of the cupboard so Mommy would remember to feed him later. Finally he sat down in front of the TV and started his homework. That didn't take long, so he fell asleep on the couch while trying not to think about Mommy coming home.

There was giggling and slamming when Jacob woke to Mommy and a man stumbling through the door. The man kept grabbing and kissing her as she wobbled to the fridge, playfully brushing his groping hands away. She set several bottles on the counter, knocking over Jacob's macaroni and cheese, then began to pour, spilling alcohol everywhere as her friend tickled her. Jacob got up quietly and slunk over to the kitchen. He picked up the box of macaroni and slid it toward his mother hopefully.

"Jacob, honey, isn't it time for bed?" Mommy asked. To her friend she added, "Excuse me, babe, while I put my little boy to bed. C'mon sweetie, let's go night-night." She grabbed Jacob's arm firmly and dragged him to his bedroom, tossing a sweet smile over her shoulder at the man grinning drunkenly in her kitchen.

As soon as the door was latched, Mommy slapped Jacob across the face. He stumbled back onto the bed. He could feel his nose bleeding but he tried to hold back tears. Mommy hated it when he cried. "You do not interrupt Mommy when she has a guest. Understand?" Her hand was poised for another blow.

Jacob cowered. "Y-yes Mommy. I was hungry."

"Hungry? Then feed yourself! Why do I have to do everything for you? Grow up!" She took a pillow and held it over Jacob's face. He struggled, which only made Mommy angrier, so finally he lay still so she would stop smothering him. "There," she said, satisfied. "Learned your lesson? Now shut up and stay here. Don't bother Mommy again. And remember, Mommy loves you."

When she had gone, locking the door behind her, Jacob began to cry quietly in the darkness. He loved his Mommy, and she wasn't always bad. Maybe if he was better, maybe if he wasn't so bad all the time, Mommy would be nicer. But Jacob was bad; he knew it. So, he cried softly until exhaustion and hunger gave way to sleep. He dreamed that a man dressed in white came and sat at the foot of his bed. He patted Jacob's leg and comforted the boy's fear and pain. Jacob liked him.

The clamor of his Scooby-Doo alarm clock woke Jacob in the morning. He slumped into the bathroom to brush his teeth, pulling the stepstool over so he could reach the sink. But when he saw his reflection, he dropped his toothbrush in surprise. Dried blood from his nose covered his face, his lip was swollen on one side, and his cheek was bruised. He cleaned off his face and tried not to cry, remembering again that Mommy hated when he cried. After brushing his teeth, Jacob found some slightly stale cereal for breakfast, then donned his coat and backpack and headed to the bus stop, pausing to kiss his unconscious mother on the way out.

Jacob had a good day at school. Teacher had taught them about invisible ink. It was like magic! He couldn't wait to show Mommy what he could do. The house was empty once again, but even that couldn't dampen his spirits. In the fridge he found sliced lemons Mommy sometimes used in drinks. He took one, found paper and a toothpick, and worked on his secret message. Finished, he looked for something to eat and, finding nothing but more stale Cheerios, he sat down to munch and watch TV.

Mommy was home late again. A man accompanied her, different than the previous night's. Jacob raced to the kitchen snatched up his message, and cried, "Look, Mommy, look! I made you a letter!" Then he held the paper up to a lamp. The words "I Love You Mommy" magically began to appear on formerly blank paper. Jacob grinned with joy, but when he turned around, he saw that Mommy hadn't been paying any attention. His face fell. Then his Mommy disentangled herself from the man's embrace. "I think it's time for bed." Now Jacob was scared.

Mommy gripped Jacob's arm. Hard. She tugged him away and forced him toward the basement. He stumbled down the uneven stairs. It was dark, but Mommy was able to find his neck and squeeze. "What did I tell you about interrupting? Huh? Why don't you ever listen to what Mommy tells you?" She shook him by the neck for emphasis while she spoke, and her strong breath nauseated Jacob. He felt dizzy, and his eyes had started to roll back in his head when she finally released him. He crumpled to the floor. Then she kicked him in the gut and yanked him back to his feet. One more slap across the face, then Jacob felt his head crack against the brick wall as he was thrust into it. Jacob was silent and enduring. Mommy left. He slid to the floor again, laying his bruised, throbbing cheek on the cool cement. He felt sticky liquid pooling around his face but the pain was fading. . . .

The man from Jacob's dream was back, his white clothing glowing faintly in the darkness. The man's clear blue eyes drowned Jacob in love and compassion, everything the boy tried so hard to get from his mother. The man sat next to Jacob, legs crossed, and lifted the boy's head gently onto his lap. He ran fingers through the boy's hair and began to hum a sweet lullaby. The white clothing was swiftly staining crimson, but the man didn't seem to mind. Jacob's eyelids drooped. His pain and hunger and thirst were quelled by the calm of the lullaby. He slept.

The next day Jacob did not go to school. His mother went to the basement to get a lightbulb when she found her baby on the floor and remembered. "Oh no. No. Jacob! My baby . . . oh, my little boy . . ." she sobbed and took his head in her hands, rocking back and forth. But Jacob did not wake. It was too late.
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