IX

My point, and I do have one, is this: It was always me and Muv—Muv and her Junebug—just the two of us. We were separate. Special. Different from the common man, and thank God for that. I had always been very proud to be included in her short list of acceptable companions, and secretly terrified that one day she would tire of me, and banish me from her charmed little circle forever.

Which, of course, is exactly what happened.

I should have seen it coming; I should have seen the signs. I knew her moods, or spells, were getting darker and lasting longer. She was often angry, confused, paranoid. Given to fits of froth and frenzy. WATCH OUT!

But that shouldn’t have affected US. We still needed each other. I wasn’t jumping ship. I was used to her behavior. Besides, I enjoyed her company too much. I’m not like those kids who hate their mothers and need to rebel. That’s not me. I loved my muv. I secretly found her madness exhilarating. A LOT OF WORK, and not always appreciated, but exhilarating. So I was perfectly fine with US. Apparently, she was not.

Because.

One day.

THAT day.

She turned on me.

 

CHOKE.

 

But that.

That.

That I don’t remember.

That I can’t see.

It’s covered in darkness.

Just darkness.

The memory is gone. Mother is, too.

Once again, it’s just me and the inky black silence of the void.

 

A little boy lonely as God.

 

FADE OUT.