LCNWRIWE- The Noir side Options

[Frisk]

So yeah, I'm writing two. If that's a problem Shio can tell me and I'll drop one. If I do, I'd like input on which one to keep writing, but I guess it doesn't matter. *Ahem*


DAY 1- IN WHICH OUR PROTAGONIST IS A CHILD WHO IS NOT FOND OF RELIGION


“Hey, do you remember how we met? It seems like so long ago, that it didn’t actually happen. Like it was all part of a dream I eventually had to wake up from. Memories are weird, huh? People tend to smooth over the rough parts. It casts everything from our youth in a positive light. I don’t want to do that, but I know I will, like everyone else.”

Adam sat on the left side, in a row near the middle. He sat there every Sunday, without fail, next to his grandmother. He stared at the ground while older people came and went, commenting on his cuteness, his shyness, his intelligence. Anything they could think of, because that was the custom. Make a round and talk to everyone before service began. And every Sunday, his grandmother would brag about how smart he was; how his grades were the top of the class, how he was reading on an eighth grade level in elementary school. Even at that age, he knew she just wanted to inflate herself. Something about the way she talked, blowing up each and every achievement to anyone who would listen, aggravated Adam.
For the most part, church meant nothing to him. The ideas of heaven and hell, of a creating father and loving savior, were all just that to him: ideas. The fiery passion which his preacher imbued into every word, stirring the congregation with a fervent desire to repent for their wrongdoings… Swept by Adam completely. Honestly, he hated it here. The only people his age avoided him and thought he was weird, and he didn’t like being around adults. He wanted to just go home and never come back, but any mention of skipping church reduced his grandmother to tears. She was so sure that he would lose his soul. In the end, it wasn’t worth the trouble or the aggravation. He kept going, ignoring the people around him.
The floor of the church was a worn-down green carpet. He amused himself by running his foot up and down it, drawing designs in it. His forehead rested on the back of the pew in front of him, obscuring his face from the rest of the church. Sometimes his grandmother would lightly tap his leg and tell him to sit up straight. He didn’t. He slowly traced circles over and over. It was still about twenty minutes before church started. Twenty minutes of his life he would never get back. He sighed and leaned his face up to rest his chin on the pew, and his eyes met someone else’s, centimeters from him.
It was a girl, somewhere around his age. He had never seen her before. She had bright blue eyes, and they were staring at him curiously. She smiled at him, and he saw small dimples form in her cheeks. Her hair was brown, a really light brown, and it fell down in waves. They sat there for a while, neither saying anything.
“…Hi,” he finally said. She was silent. “What’s your name?” After watching him for a few more moments, she answered.
“Anne.” She started to say something else, but Adam’s grandmother cut him off.
“Christine! Is this Dana’s child? She is just the cutest thing. How’ve you been? Oh, I haven’t been too good myself,” shut up, “but you know how it is. Adam’s dad is up to his ways again. But I guess I can’t complain too much. I know the lord will see me through. So, how have you been, Christine?” Anne looked at Adam’s grandmother for a while, then back to him, still smiling. She turned from sitting sideways along the pew to facing her whole body towards Adam, sitting her knees on the pew. She began silently mimicking both of the adults talking around them. Adam couldn’t help but laugh. Then he noticed that her right arm was wrapped in a thick cast.
“What happened to your arm?” he asked.
“She fell and broke it when she was climbing a tree house,” Christine said. Anne’s face turned red, and she looked at Christine angrily.
“Mawmaw!”
“What?” Christine asked. Anne didn’t say anything, but she continued to stare sullenly at the old lady for a while. Then she suddenly turned back towards Adam, with a strange look on her face.
“Hey. Let me see your hand.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“No.”
“Pleaaassee,” she whined, utilizing every drop of cuteness she could muster. Adam had already lost.
“No.” But he could still fight.
“I can make your hand smell like flowers,” she said. And that was what ended it. Bear in mind that he was still in elementary school, and was quite an impressionable and naïve child. He stuck his left hand out towards her, and she began to trace circles around it in much the same way he had drawn circles in the church’s carpet. Then she started doing fancy loops. Finally she raised her hand and brought it down into a poke on the center of his. Curious and confused, he raised his hand to sniff. The instant he did, she smashed her hand into his. It hurt like hell. And she just laughed.
“Want to come over to my house after church?” she asked.
“That hurt.”
“Sorry. So, do you want to come over?”
“I’ll ask my grandma,” he said, rubbing his sore nose.

After a valiant amount of whining and arguing, Adam’s grandmother agreed to let him stay at Anne’s until church started again for the evening. Once the invitation to join our lord and savior Jesus Christ in blessed redemption had finished, he left the church with Anne and Christine. He sat in the back, watching the terrain pass by quickly and quietly. It wasn’t long before they were at Anne’s house. Actually, Adam remembered it vaguely. Maybe his grandmother had brought him here once before.
Anne led him through the house into her living room and pushed him onto a couch placed near one corner. She then ran to the opposite corner and grabbed a massive chest, straining to pull it with her good arm. Adam thought about helping her, but she had laid this seat on the couch out for him. It would be rude to just get up after that.
“O…kay. Here’s,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath, “all my toys.” She went to the back of the chest, and lifted the lid. The amount of toys was staggering. She had action figures, and dolls, and those weird little things made of wire and beads. You know the one. She had video game toys, and coloring books, and and everything. She looked at Adam and put her hands on her hips, smiling smugly. She was just so proud.
“Well? What do you think?”
“You have some cool toys. I guess.” Her proud look turned to shock. Payback for the face beating.
“What? I have the coolest toys. I bet you don’t have toys as cool as me. Don’t even lie.”
“Whatever you say,” Adam said, picking up a few action figures.

After several hours of intense action figure battling, Christine came in with a tray of pizza rolls and drinks for Adam and Anne. The two of them paused their play long enough to devour the food.
“You know what I like?” Anne asked, in between pizza rolls.
“Yes,” Adam said. Anne just looked at him, confused. “But just so you can tell me anyway, what?”
“I like eating noodles.”
“Me too. My mom used to make them for me and my older sister.”
“But I like them not cooked.” This girl was weird. She stretched out at the table and took a large sip of her drink. She was easy to talk to and get along with. She could be annoying, but she was fun to annoy back. He wondered why she had never come to church before. His grandmother had said she was Dana’s kid, so she must not be Christine’s. Maybe Dana was Christine’s daughter. He wondered if Christine was going to start bringing Anne to church every Sunday.
“Alright you two, start getting ready for church. It’s almost time to go back.” They finished up their food and got in the car.
No one said anything about the two of them coming to church together. No one even seemed to notice. The old people were too busy making sure everyone was okay to pay attention to two kids, and the other kids went right on ignoring anything to do with Adam. They went back to their pews and talked until service started. When it did, Adam kept himself distracted by watching every twist and turn of Anne’s hair as she moved.

“You know, after that, I didn’t really mind coming to church as much. I finally had a friend there. After that, I sat at the pew watching the door every morning until you showed up. As I got older, I was made an usher. I took up offering and sang in the choir, and all that other stuff. But every Sunday morning and night, I also helped at the front door, opening it and shaking hands. I waited for you to get there, so we could smile at each other. You made church bearable for me.”

[Shiokazu]

'tis a very nice reading vahn. keep it coming, please, ok?

[Frisk]

Day 2- IN WHICH THE PROTAGONIST HAS A SHITTY AFTERNOON

“What about my house? Do you remember what it was like? Even though it’s been who knows how long since you’ve been there, I kind of hoped there would be a little bit of it left in your memories. It was pretty run-down… My grandfather had it built himself, taking pride in every step of the way. It was barely more than a trailer; just one small hallway that connected to every other room in the house. We chased each other up and down that hallway constantly.”

Adam had barricaded himself in his bathroom, but he didn’t know how long he could manage. The door, full of holes from various beatings over the years and barely attached to the wall by one loose hinge, was being violently assaulted by Anne. Every second it took another attack, shaking it almost off the wall. In Adam’s hand he held a sleek black cell phone. He had forgotten he even had it with him until it started ringing. He picked up and tried to explain the situation.
“She’s going to kill me.”
“What? Who’s going to?” said the voice on the other end of the line. It was one of his best friends: Carlos, a Hispanic boy who went to school with Adam.
“Girl. Anne. Evil,” he said, basically summing up Anne’s character in a nutshell. It was pretty accurate too.
“Ooooh. Is it that one girl who’s at your house all the time? Is she hot?” Carlos asked.
“Open! Up!” Anne shouted, ramming into the bathroom door with her shoulder. It came open just a little bit, but Adam slammed his back against it, shutting it again.
“Yes, it is. No, she isn’t. She’s the child of the devil man. She’s breaking into my bathroom. She might have a weapon. She probably has a weapon,” Adam said while struggling against the door. Suddenly, Anne stopped attacking. This was definitely the calm before the storm.
“What’s going on?”
“She’s gone. I’m scared,” Adam answered. He wanted to open the door, but his better judgment kept him from it. He suddenly heard light footsteps coming down the hall, back towards the bathroom. He leaned back against the door, ready to defend it again. Anne put everything she had into an all-out attack, knocking the door slightly open for a moment, just like before. Unlike before, however, this time she thrust the wooden handle of a broom or mop through the crack. She lodged it in place, forcing the door to remain slightly ajar.
“Carlos! She got the door open! I don’t know how she did it but she did and she won’t rest until I’m dead. Call for help!”
“You’re on your own bro,” Carlos said, right before hanging up. A true friend. He looked back and saw that Anne had gotten her hand through the crack in the door and was vigilantly trying to claw at him. He finally gave up, moving away from the door to let her in. She stood in the doorway, breathing heavily and staring at him with a malicious look in her eyes. She raised a shoe she had been carrying, and descended upon him.

The driveway to Adam’s house was a worn-out dirt path that had been made after years of use. Beside it, there was a small stretch of asphalt that looked perfect to park a car on. Unfortunately, a broken down car had been stationed there since before Adam was born. Adam and Anne sat there, resting their backs against the car. Anne lay in Adam’s lap, watching him absentmindedly pick tufts of grass out from the cracks in the asphalt. An ant worked its way up a patch of grass onto Adam’s hand, and she lazily reached out and crushed it. The two of them had ran around Adam’s front yard for a while before settling down on the asphalt. Adam could feel Anne’s breathing grow slower. He looked down, noticing her eyes were closed. Resting his head against the car, he began to run his fingers through her hair. His own eyes began to grow heavy, and he willingly let the warm summer afternoon lull him to sleep.

“Adam! Where are you two?” He heard his dad shouting some time later. He fought himself back to consciousness. After briefly stretching his arms, he gently shook Anne awake. The two climbed to their feet and moved out from the car, heading toward Adam’s porch.
“What were you two doing behind that car?”
“Nothing,” Adam said, angrily watching his father.
“Yeah, you think nothing. You better not ever let me catch you doing ‘nothing’,” his dad said, staring right back at Adam. Adam quietly returned the glare, until his father went back inside.

“So, what should we do?”
“I dunno. What do you wanna do?” Adam said, laying on his back. His head dangled off the bottom of his bed, looking upside-down towards the slouching figure of Anne. He wondered where in the world her thoughts were at the moment. She seemed lost in thought, searching for a plan. She was always searching for a fresh trouble to find herself in. Her head was slightly cocked and her eyes were staring above Adam, at nothing in particular. He reached his hand up, out to her, and poked her gently in the forehead with his index and middle fingers. Her mouth widened in a slight O of surprise. She was staring at him now. They sat like that for a minute, watching each other. For some reason, seeing her watch him like that filled him with happiness. All eyes on him. He started smiling, and then she was smiling.
“I know! Let’s play house!” It was his turn to stare at her.
“Okay,” he said, humoring her.
They grabbed her infant sister, and walked outside onto his porch.
“Alright Macy, you’re our baby, so you have to lay down and be a baby, okay?” Macy agreed, and laid down on the blanket Adam spread on the porch for her. “And this is our dog,” Anne said, pointing at Adam’s pet, Rocky. The old pit bull looked at her lazily for a moment before continuing to sit on the porch doing nothing. She marched around the porch, performing that miracle that most people lose at far too young an age: pretending. Here was a sink and oven and it was their kitchen; over there was their dining room. Now they had to put the baby to bed. Soon Adam could see it all as well, every little detail. They made the porch their home, and they were quite the happy little family.

Even after getting into middle school, the two of them stayed together constantly. Anne had come over with her mom and was staying the night. She was also taking Adam’s bed, forcing him onto the couch that occupied his bedroom. He was currently sprawled out on said couch, trying to make sense of his science notes. Every few seconds his concentration would be broken by a dog’s yapping, or Anne’s shouts. She had just had to bring her precious new collection of puppies over. They were loud and annoying and he had a very important test to study for. A test that was the next day. A test he had yet to study for, per usual for Adam. And then a puppy jumped up onto the couch, onto Adam’s lap, making sure to circle around his notebook, tearing and crumpling a page of his notes, and Adam almost lost it. As soon as the puppy found its footing, it was off again, bursting down his hallway. It passed right by Anne, who pushed her way into his room, giggling. Several other puppies surrounded her, jumping up and nipping at her before darting off. Adam smiled when she turned her back. It was really frustrating, trying to study with this racket, but he supposed he could deal with it.
“Anne, you better not forget to clean up every single mess these puppies make before going off to school in the morning,” Anne’s mother called to her from another room.
“Okay mama!” She called back, nearly tripping over a puppy in the hallway. “Adam! Come play with them too!”
“Sorry. Can’t. This test is pretty important,” he said. She looked sad for a moment, but quickly took off towards the hallway again. “Hey! Come here for a sec.” She came back quickly, waiting for him to say something. He gently poked her in the forehead. She smiled at him before returning to the puppies.

It must have been around five in the morning. School didn’t start for around three hours. Adam had no earthly reason for getting up. He should just go back to sleep. Half-conscious, he repeated these thoughts as he scooped up a small pile of dog feces from his hallway. There were about three more piles scattered throughout the house. He picked them up too. He went back to his room and rested on his couch. He watched Anne, curled up in his bed with her puppies. She should be grateful.

A few days later, Adam came in from school feeling particularly exhausted. He collapsed onto his bed, feeling like he would just pass out. Then his hand felt something weird. And cold. And soft. Oh my god no, he thought.
Looks like he had missed one.

This post has been edited by Noir: Mar 28 2013, 12:37 AM

[Frisk]

Day 3- IN WHICH A SEVERED LEG MAKES AN APPEARANCE

“Every day back then was like a game. We were never at a loss for something to do, something to discover. Do you remember these things? All of these irreplaceable memories in my heart? I can’t, I won’t forget them. Even if you were to forget, I’ll hold on to them. So, just listen to them for now, okay?”

These fries were delicious. Salty and delicious and Adam was enjoying every bite of them. The only thing that beat them was the grease-filled kickass burger he was munching on. He took a gulp of his ice-cold, refreshing beverage. Fast food really was the best ever. He took another sip of his drink, looking over the top of it towards Anne. She was focused on her meal, squeezing out a packet of ketchup onto the food tray. About the time she dropped a ketchup-dipped fry into her mouth, Adam caught her eye. She looked back at him, dipping another fry into the sauce. Then she threw it at him, trying to catch it off guard. It worked.
“Lo~ser,” she said, barely able to hold back her laughter. In return, he jacked her burger, taking a bite out of it. Less than pleased at this turn of events, she made short work of Adam’s own burger.
“Why am I even friends with you?”
“I keep your life interesting,” she said, taking a small handful of fries.
“No arguing that,” Adam said. They ate in silence for a while. A few tables away, Anne and Adam’s grandmothers sat gossiping to each other. Macy sat with them, carefully inspecting her brand new toy. It stayed that way for a while, until…
“Anne,” Adam said, between a mouthful of fries.
“What now?” she asked.
“That car outside. Look at that car. Do you see it?” She had to see it. It was like… She had to see it.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, getting up from her seat to sit closer to him. She looked out the restaurant window. “What car? I don’t see-” she cut herself off. She saw it. “Oh my gosh! Is that for real? Adam, there’s no way that’s real.”
“It can’t be. It’s gotta be fake or something.”
“Adam what if they’re murderers what are we gonna do oh my gosh should we tell mawmaw?”
Sitting outside of the Burger King that Adam and Anne were currently dining at, a car had parked. It was your typical, average, run of the mill car. Adam couldn’t tell you what kind of car, of course. He knew nothing about them. But it was totally commonplace, other than the human leg sticking out of the trunk. It looked bloody. Adam examined it intensely for a while.
“It’s not real,” he said, finally.
“Like how can you tell?”
“It’s like a toy. The inside isn’t really a leg, it’s just something that’ll stay connected to the trunk so that when the trunk’s closed, it looks like a real leg.”
“Oooh, okay,” she said, satisfied. Her attention span was drained, so she drifted back to her food without giving the bloody leg a second thought.

“You really can’t?”
“No.”
“Seriously. You can’t?”
“I said no, Anne. Never have, never will.”
“I can teach you!”
“No, you can’t.”
“Yep. Come on, let’s go try. Just once.”
“If you think I’m going to go outside and-” Anne yanked him by the arm and forced him to his feet. She began dragging him outside, with him fighting every step of the way. It was a bright blue, sunny sky kind of day. Adam knew this was simply a ruse of God to convince him he was about to be spared from horrible physical pain. Anne momentarily disappeared around the back of her house, but soon came back. She brought with her a bicycle. It was a lovely pink color, with ribbons to match. Her smile seemed so innocent and believable.
Five minutes later, and Adam was atop the two-wheeled vehicle of doom. “Okay, I’ll push you some of the way, and when I let go you keep pedaling. Got it?” she said, holding on to the bike for him.
“… I really hate you.”
“That’s the spirit! Alright, here we go!” she casually took off, pushing Adam gently. After a few feet, she let go. Adam was going to do it this time. He was going to make it. All the way. Four inches. A new record! Before he could celebrate, he should really deal with the ground rushing up to hug his face.
“Are you okay?” Anne said, running to help him up.
“Yeah, I think.”
“You really can’t ride a bike,” she said. There were no further attempts at teaching.

They got older. High school rolled around. As the years slipped by, it became harder and harder for the two to stay close. They had always gone to different schools; Anne stayed at her hometown’s school, while Adam attended a school with a better reputation in the next city over. Their parents stopped associating with each other, and their grandparents fell on bad terms. Neither of them attended church often, and when they did they missed each other.
Adam sat in the bed of a truck, tucking his coat close to keep warm. The wind sailed through the truck, blasting him from every direction. He leaned back and stared at the sky. The temperature was starting to drop. Days were getting shorter. Anne had tryouts for color guard today, and he was on his way to watch her try out.
The girls were all lined up in rows on a small grassy field near the school. There were probably about fifteen of them, with only about five going at a time. He took a seat on some steps where a few parents were sitting, and watched. He felt completely out of place, sitting alone next to a bunch of southern moms. He drifted in and out of their conversations; who was doing what, why their child was the best, how this person’s daughter had messed up, how that person’s daughter had the try out in the bag. As their droning went on, Adam realized it was the same as the conversations at his church: mindless gossip and bragging. They danced around each other with words full of implications and unspoken accusations, and you could bet as soon as one got up to fetch something from their car the rest would pick apart every shortcoming she had before she returned.
What about him? If he moved, would they start asking about him? They would. Who was that boy? Do you know what family he’s from? Who’s he hear to see? Does he know what this is? Adam’s head started hurting, and he pushed the thoughts away, instead focusing on Anne.
After they finished, the girls ran up and down the walkway of the band room. In a few minutes the results would be posted. Adam held back from talking to Anne, uncomfortable being around so many total strangers. She mixed in and out of the girls with ease, consoling one who had slipped up, praising one who had performed well, high-fiving a close friend. When the results came out, she was among the girls who screamed in excitement. Not that there had been any doubt. Eventually she noticed Adam, and she made her way to him. They stood next to each other for a minute, not saying anything.
“Good job,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“Hey! Anne! Come here!” Another student called. She ran off to talk to them, only to return a moment later with something in her hand. Before he could blink, she had gotten behind him and slammed something into his back.
“What was that,” he said, trying to reach for it.
“My name tag,” she said, before running back into the crowd of girls. She was so hyper, running this way and that. In no time at all she was back, holding a soda in her hand. She leaned against the rail of the walkway beside him, drinking it.
“Let me have some of that,” Adam said. She looked at him, then at her drink. And then she chugged the whole thing, every last drop. When she finished she turned to Adam and smiled, swirling the empty can around before crushing it and throwing it in the trash. She walked away.
He shouted a bye to her as he left. Her face… Was twisted in annoyance. She watched him ride away with an agitated look for a moment before turning her attention away.

[Frisk]

Day 4- IN WHICH LIVING SITUATIONS ARE MADE APPARENT

“I hated all of them, you know. I couldn’t stand my family. Do you remember what my family was like? What they were really like outside of the sacred walls of church? Of course, your family wasn’t without its own problems. Maybe that was what made us so close at first. We were both in similar situations.”

It was much worse before Anne came into his life. Adam’s house was full of shouting. His father was demanding money his grandmother didn’t have. His grandmother was crying; begging him to stop. But in the end, she would give him the money he wanted and he would go out and everything might be quiet again. Or they might run from Adam’s house, seeking refuge at someone else’s. The places they stayed changed from day to day.
Then they would come home and it would all repeat again. It was a vicious cycle.
“Just go and buy your goddamned drugs! Oh Lord,” his grandmother began to moan, raising her arms to the ceiling, “Oh Lord, help me! Help me, oh Lord oh Lord help me!” A door slammed. His father was gone, it seemed. “Adam, let’s go. We’re leaving here.” Cool. Guess it was time to find somewhere new to stay.

“I’m not gonna let him do this anymore. If he thinks he can just walk all over me and treat me like a dog, he’s got another thing comin’.”
“No he doesn’t,” Adam said. He didn’t particularly feel like arguing, but he never missed an opportunity to point out that his grandmother was a liar.
“Oh yes he does. You wait and see. If he does this again I’ll get the cops out there and they’ll take his ass away.”
“No they won’t.”
“You wait and see. I’m not going to be treated like this by my own son anymore.”
“I won’t, and you will.”
That night they stayed at a friend of Adam’s grandmother. The house was old and had nothing interesting. No books to read, no games to play, and the only TV was being used. The next morning they went home and Adam’s father apologized. The same evening, he threatened to kill himself unless he got some money. He left with the money, and Adam and his grandmother went to the same friend’s. His grandmother swore that this was the last time this was going to happen.
A vicious cycle. Day in and day out, Adam watched. He saw and predicted. And this vicious cycle would lay the foundation for most of his childhood, most of his teenage years. It’s all the same. Nothing ever changes.

“Do you want to ride with me?” Adam’s dad asked. Adam sat in the floor, playing a video game.
“No! Now he doesn’t need to ride with you. Adam, you need to just stay here.”
“Where we going?” Adam asked. It didn’t matter, really. Anything to get outside of this place.
“Adam! You don’t need to ride with your daddy! Tell him,” Adam’s grandmother protested, thinking Adam’s dad would agree.
“It don’t matter! He can go if he wants to. Son, I’m going over to Dwayne’s.” Dwayne had a… Son? His name was Kade. He was a little younger than Adam, but they had played together a long time ago.
“Sure.” So Adam headed out with his dad, against his grandmother’s pitiful pleas.

Adam, his dad, and his grandmother all sat in one bedroom. His grandmother was at the bed, crying.
“Son don’t do this. You don’t have to do it. Please,” she begged.
“You heard what I said. I don’t care what you do. If you don’t want to give me the money that’s fine. Just know that I won’t be here in the morning,” he calmly and emotionlessly said. He sat on an armchair, staring at a knife he had been sharpening all day. Adam sat on the floor, near the armchair. He listened to both of them without saying a word. As they continued to bicker, he tried to inch his way unnoticed towards the arm chair. When he thought he was close enough, he made his move. He shot out towards the knife his dad had set aside, trying to grab it. He wasn’t fast enough. His dad lunged out and snatched it, bringing it up to Adam’s face. He held it there for a minute, daring Adam to make a move. Adam stood and left the room. Let him die, he thought.

Adam was exhausted. He was tired of running from place to place. He missed the quiet of his house. He was sick of his grandmother, every day, every year, all his life, dragging him this way and that. Swearing that no longer would they contend with his father. She was a liar. A hypocrite. Throughout his life, he would never meet someone more disgusting and vile.
These thoughts swam through his head like a rush of blood. They heated his face, made his breathing rapid. His arms were holding his knees to his chest. He could feel his nails cutting into his hands from the vice-like grip. His eyes were wide, staring fiercely at a particular spot in the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Her. Her voice. Soft. Not really understanding, but sympathetic. She stood above him, watching him sit there in the floor of Christine’s kitchen. He stared hard at her. Slowly, ever so slightly, his hands relaxed. His eyes took her in and softened, not wanting to scare her. He looked aside, almost embarrassed.
“Nothing.”

“Jesus Christ, you need to just get off my fucking back. You were all about us getting together before, and now you keep trying to keep us from being around each other. What if I do have feelings for Dana? Maybe I want to get to know her.” It was around the time Adam and Anne finished elementary school.
“You don’t need to go down there. She’s no good. You need to just get away and clear your head from this mess. You need to get cleaned up, and get a job.”
“I’m a grown fucking man.” And so on. They argued constantly. Adam’s dad was… Seeing Anne’s mom? They weren’t really dating, so he didn’t know what to call it. But his dad often went to Dana’s and would stay the night. He didn’t think they were having sex… Although, going by what his dad said, they could at any time. It was really more of an excuse though. Adam’s dad would use Anne’s mom for sex, and she would use him for pills.

‘Adam’
‘Wat?’
‘:(‘
‘What’s wrong?’
‘My mom’s gone…’
‘Where?’
‘idk… she left last night and she never came back.’
‘Its not like this is the first time. I’m sure she’ll be back.’
‘I love her :’( last time she went to jail’

“I don’t know what Christine is thinking. Dana has all kinds of men at that house all the time. I wouldn’t leave my child in a place like that. Who knows what could happen. Who knows what’s already happened,” Adam’s grandmother said. She wasn’t actually talking to Adam. She was talking to herself. He wished she would just shut up. “I just don’t understand her. I thought we were friends. I’ve never done a thing in the world to Christine, and here she is talking all about me. I can’t believe she would go tell the whole country my business. And can you believe she says I should call the law on my own son? Well, maybe miss Christine should take a look at her own family.”

“Now, you know I don’t mean anything by it, and I think the world of Christine, but sometimes she just does things to hurt me! And you know what…” She went on and on, spreading every single story she could think of. But she never did a thing in the world to Christine. Why? Why were people like this? How can someone act pleasant to someone’s face and then spite them so nastily when their back was turned? Adam felt rage, pure and white-hot, boil over him. His grandmother would insult anyone.

“And I’ll tell you another thing, that Anne is going to give Christine a run for her money. She’s gonna end up just like her mother, you wait and see. Just-like-her-mother.”

“She’s spoiled. She doesn’t have any discipline. Dana needs to beat her ass but she won’t listen. Her and her sister both are always crying for their mama. She’s going to give Dana a lot of trouble when she gets to be a teenager.”

And it just kept going. All these people wanted to do was ridicule someone else. Christine tried to tell Adam’s grandmother that his dad needed to be put in jail or rehabilitation for his problems, and she turned on Christine in an instant. Adam’s dad wanted to act like Anne was at fault for wanting the attention of a mother who left her all alone for drugs, sex, and pills. Anne’s mother didn’t care about anyone but herself. Useless. All adults were like this, without fail. They just fanned their own complexes and acted completely self-centered without regarding others.
At least… Adam and Anne didn’t have to go through this kind of life alone. At least they could look out for each other until the strain between their families became so great it was almost impossible to be around each other.