"Don't mess with me, for I am Saint Jimmy!", chapter 2
"Where's Mom?" I asked, passing Brad to walk into the kitchen.
"Bingo." He replied. I groaned. Mom always went to bingo and never won shit. But always lost our money. I swung open the fridge and gulped down some milk. "James, can't you act like a human being for once?!" Brad asked, standing right behind me.
"Pff...no." I capped the milk and walked away.
James Andrew Holt. The good kid inside me. The kid that used to draw Mommy and Daddy pictures during pre-school. The kid that used to help Mommy with the dishes. Well that kid was long gone.
When Saint Jimmy came around, it was all down hill from there. When Dad died, thats when St. Jimmy came. If he'd have lived, I'd probably still be that good kid. Yeah right. Aww hell, this is who I was supossed to be. God made me this way. If there even was a god up there.
I sat on the porch, smoking a couple fags and drinking some Jack Daniels straight. Its what I do when I get into one of my moods. I looked down at the dark wooded porch. I'd carved so many things into it. I ran my fingers over the carving I made when I heard Dad died. 'Hang 'em high and never forget.' I sighed and shook my head.
My dad was a poet, and he was in a band too. The Crashing Labs. Don't ask. He was the one who taught me to play guitar. My memories of him where long gone. He was my hero. But when he died in that car crash my heart broke into half.
Thats also when Mom got all crazy. And when that happened thats when my self-esteem was lost. Thats when all my trust disappeared. And all my feelings for love was crushed. I lost it all. I wasn't the average six year old. Thats when all that shit happened. Twelve years later and I'm still the same.
Mom's car pulled into the drive way next to my beat up car. She got out of the drivers seat and walked up the pathway. She glared at me and I asked, "Where'd you go this morning?" I already knew the answer.
A bar. What else is new? She huffed, "What are you, my mother? I hate to break it to you Jimmy, but my mom died seventeen years ago. It's none of your business!" She walked passed me and slammed the door.
"I wish that happened to me." I muttered.
She didn't win bingo. Thats why she was so mad. She'll get over it and just go again tomorrow. I watched the cars drive by. Some people from across the street walk out of their house to take the dog for a walk. They laughed. I remember when my life was like that.
***
"...hello, and goodbye to you..." Dad finished the song called, 'See ya in hell'. I sat in the old metal chair watching. I wasn't the normal five year old. Other kids my age couldn't sit still watching their Dad's work like I could.
"Okay guys, thats a wrap!" Dad said as he took off his 1972 black and white fender guitar. "C'mon Jimmy, time to go home. Mom's probably cookin' supper." I ran to him. He picked me up and carried me to the car. When we got home, Mom was passed out drunk on the couch.
"Oh Lydia." Dad walked up to her and carried her to their bedroom. I walked into my room and read the "Cat In the Hat" book.
"NO, NO, GET AWAY FROM ME!" Mom screamed.
"LYD, COME DOWN, ITS JUST ME!" Dad yelled back.
"WHO ARE YOU, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" I rolled my eyes. Mom was crazy and I knew it. Then there was a loud noise. I jumped up and ran into the living room. The front window was broken.
I stuck my head out it and saw a baseball. Dad must've thrown a baseball again. "Great, just great. Now we have to buy a new window, thanks alot Robert!" Mom screeched.
"What? Your blaming this on me? You made me throw it!" Dad sounded mad.
I walked back into my room, locked the door, and sat in the corner crying my eyes out.
***
The story of my life. Mom's the reason Dad died. He was drunk driving and crashed into a telephone poll. Right before he went to his bar, Mom and him had gotten into a fight. My fists clenched. I hated my mom.
"Bingo." He replied. I groaned. Mom always went to bingo and never won shit. But always lost our money. I swung open the fridge and gulped down some milk. "James, can't you act like a human being for once?!" Brad asked, standing right behind me.
"Pff...no." I capped the milk and walked away.
James Andrew Holt. The good kid inside me. The kid that used to draw Mommy and Daddy pictures during pre-school. The kid that used to help Mommy with the dishes. Well that kid was long gone.
When Saint Jimmy came around, it was all down hill from there. When Dad died, thats when St. Jimmy came. If he'd have lived, I'd probably still be that good kid. Yeah right. Aww hell, this is who I was supossed to be. God made me this way. If there even was a god up there.
I sat on the porch, smoking a couple fags and drinking some Jack Daniels straight. Its what I do when I get into one of my moods. I looked down at the dark wooded porch. I'd carved so many things into it. I ran my fingers over the carving I made when I heard Dad died. 'Hang 'em high and never forget.' I sighed and shook my head.
My dad was a poet, and he was in a band too. The Crashing Labs. Don't ask. He was the one who taught me to play guitar. My memories of him where long gone. He was my hero. But when he died in that car crash my heart broke into half.
Thats also when Mom got all crazy. And when that happened thats when my self-esteem was lost. Thats when all my trust disappeared. And all my feelings for love was crushed. I lost it all. I wasn't the average six year old. Thats when all that shit happened. Twelve years later and I'm still the same.
Mom's car pulled into the drive way next to my beat up car. She got out of the drivers seat and walked up the pathway. She glared at me and I asked, "Where'd you go this morning?" I already knew the answer.
A bar. What else is new? She huffed, "What are you, my mother? I hate to break it to you Jimmy, but my mom died seventeen years ago. It's none of your business!" She walked passed me and slammed the door.
"I wish that happened to me." I muttered.
She didn't win bingo. Thats why she was so mad. She'll get over it and just go again tomorrow. I watched the cars drive by. Some people from across the street walk out of their house to take the dog for a walk. They laughed. I remember when my life was like that.
***
"...hello, and goodbye to you..." Dad finished the song called, 'See ya in hell'. I sat in the old metal chair watching. I wasn't the normal five year old. Other kids my age couldn't sit still watching their Dad's work like I could.
"Okay guys, thats a wrap!" Dad said as he took off his 1972 black and white fender guitar. "C'mon Jimmy, time to go home. Mom's probably cookin' supper." I ran to him. He picked me up and carried me to the car. When we got home, Mom was passed out drunk on the couch.
"Oh Lydia." Dad walked up to her and carried her to their bedroom. I walked into my room and read the "Cat In the Hat" book.
"NO, NO, GET AWAY FROM ME!" Mom screamed.
"LYD, COME DOWN, ITS JUST ME!" Dad yelled back.
"WHO ARE YOU, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" I rolled my eyes. Mom was crazy and I knew it. Then there was a loud noise. I jumped up and ran into the living room. The front window was broken.
I stuck my head out it and saw a baseball. Dad must've thrown a baseball again. "Great, just great. Now we have to buy a new window, thanks alot Robert!" Mom screeched.
"What? Your blaming this on me? You made me throw it!" Dad sounded mad.
I walked back into my room, locked the door, and sat in the corner crying my eyes out.
***
The story of my life. Mom's the reason Dad died. He was drunk driving and crashed into a telephone poll. Right before he went to his bar, Mom and him had gotten into a fight. My fists clenched. I hated my mom.
