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It was dark in the house, it always was when Momma was home. Which was a lot now, but Nick didn’t really mind, he just wished she would get off the couch and play with him again. But Momma was always very tired, busy, or too angry with him to even roll around the idea of playing with the kid.
Nick was currently quietly sitting in his mostly empty room, most of his furniture having been sold off long ago so momma could pay for stuff. The room was once colorful and full of toys, but now it was just grey-white walls and a lingering feeling of melancholy drabness that dripped from the walls. Like they were acidic tears that should have gone dry a long time ago.
His small mattress was pressed into one corner, a few blocks and books littering the ground next to a lamp that Nick kept mostly turned off unless it was nighttime. The only current lighting was a window upon the wall with curtains pushed apart, letting some light shine in from the cold winter frost outside, still letting some chill seep inside like icy claws stretched out to snatch Nick up and drag him into the frigid woods for the wolves to feast on.
It’d been snowing all day and all night, but there was no laughter from kids playing in the fresh blanket of white outside, only dogs barking and cars revving like the distant sounds of beasts snarling as chains looped around their bodies like metal snakes. Nick never liked winter time, even with its dead beauty.
He preferred the warmth of summer and spring, things always seemed nicer in summer. Especially because then Momma would be moving around again, and she’d stop drinking bottles of wine all day. Most of their money ended up going to wine, or to this white powder that made Momma jittery and more aggressive than usual.
Nick was reading a book while sitting cross legged on the floor, eyes scanning over pages he’d read thousands of times over by now, the same words, the same images, the same everything blurring together into meaningless nothingness before his eyes. Like the page was melting into a smudgy mess of black and white ink. Maybe Nick could find something else to do around the house, especially since Momma had just left to go shopping for stuff.
Nick got up slowly, moving towards his bedroom door and opening it slowly, making sure the house was truly empty before turning on the light into the hallway. He shut the door behind him with a quiet clicking sound that echoed through the silence like a gunshot. His bare feet padded slowly across the linoleum flooring, the false wood floor feeling like it was sticking to his feet like glue trap on a rodent.
Nick entered the kitchen, stepping over some brownish shattered glass in front of the fridge that came from who knows where. Lots of pills were strewn around the space next to the dirty dish filled sink, making him wrinkle his nose in disgust as the smell finally hit him. Something must’ve died in the sink again, probably one of the many rats taking up residence in the ceiling and walls.
Nick wasn’t focused on that though right now though. Instead, he was focused on finding where the box of Cheerios went. He hoped a rat didn’t get to them first again. Nick spotted the cereal box that sat seemingly untouched but atop the fridge, exactly where he couldn’t reach them. Rats, he’d have to climb on the counter and try and grab them. If he didn’t get spooked by a rat or something and fall off the high surface into the broken glass below, that’d be painful.
Nick struggled a little to even climb up the stone counter top, he was short for a nine year old so it was a bit harder push himself onto the cool marble. He stood up shakily, arms reaching out and grabbed it while standing on his very tippy-toes. His balance was terrible from being underfed and cooped up indoors, so he ended up falling off the counter narrowly avoiding landing into the glass. Good thing he didn’t fall in, that’d hurt a lot.
But it still did hurt when he landed on the floor with a dull ‘Thump!’ Making pain shoot through his body at the searing ache in his tailbone. Nick didn’t cry though, even though he wanted to burst into tears and cry for his Momma (even if she wasn’t home). He stood up, gasping and letting out a choked sob burble up from his throat as he felt it ache even harder.
At least he had his food, Nick thought as he limped off to his bedroom, face creased into a pained expression as he slowly melted onto his mattress, pulling a blanket over his body while wondering if the Cheerios were really worth it. Which they were when Nick really thinks about his hunger outweighing the pain of the fall.
Nick laid on his stomach for a long while, the sun was going down, and it was snowing again from what Nick could see out his window. Maybe when Nick felt better he’d get up and go play in the snow a bit. Yeah. That sounded good, Nick thinks as he began to open up the box of cereal and eat it slowly, it was a rare occasion to get real brand cereal after all.
Once full, Nick managed to curl up despite the pain in his butt, pulling a drool stained pillow close to his chest as he finally began to drift off to sleep. Maybe Momma would be back when he awakened.