If you don’t have hope no more, you remember the time you gave up on it, the moment where you knew you weren’t like a lot of other people, because you weren’t still a fool like a lot of other people.
I lost hope about a week before Syrus.
Hell, I even remember where I was when I let that feeling forever abandon me.
There was this part of the kitchen in the old apartment where, if the light hit just right, everything’s made to look beautiful. Stand right over the sink when the sun is coming up, and the prettiest diamond don’t sparkle like the person standing in that light.
Only our place had this gift.
This one morning Sara was standing in the light.
She looked like what she probably did before I came along. Eyes not so full of hate and obligation. Could’ve even swore I saw a smile lingering on her lips. She was pretty to me in that moment. Looked like what I thought a mom could’ve looked like. Maybe she found some kind of peace or maybe she had a good meal. Maybe one of the men she brought home saw her as more than temporary entertainment, more than something to greedily grope at in the dark. I don’t know, but I wanted to hug her. Never really felt that way before, but I did that time. And before I could stop myself, I threw my skinny arms around her ample body, holding on to her with any part of my heart I might’ve had left.
I held on tight. Tighter than anything. Nothing happened. No tears. No struggle. Just a slab of meat sparkling in the window. Pretty and dense and rigid.
And I waited. I waited for something. For love, I guess. I thought maybe if I tried really hard one more time, something would happen like magic, and she’d love me. Fuckin’ stupid idea but it didn’t stop me from trying.
I let go. Didn’t even look at her. I walked out of the kitchen, out of the apartment. Went to Jackson’s house. The spare key was under a green flower pot. Auntie Vi told me where it was in case of an emergency. I had a lot of those when I was younger.
Their house always was tidy. It smelled like magnolias and whatever she was cooking. There Jackson sat with Auntie Vi and they were laughing about some such nonsense. Even though he didn’t have a dad no more, he had her. I didn’t know my dad, didn’t have a mom.
Killing someone might not be a sin if you want what they got bad enough. I wanted what was at that table even if it was half of what other people had. Still better than nothing.