Poor mam

Kian

The evening was darker than usual, the kind of dark that made everything feel heavy and suffocating. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional car driving by, the sound of tires slicing through puddles. It was the perfect night to do what I had to do without being noticed. But that was always the case, wasn't it?

I pulled my hoodie tighter over my head, making sure the collar was up so no one could see my face clearly. The last thing I needed was to be recognized. Not when I was dealing. Not when things were already tense enough.

I wasn't proud of it, but the money was good, and it kept my head above water. I had to do it—there was no other way. The house needed repairs, Mam was barely holding it together, and I sure as hell wasn't going to let that mess of a man—my dad—sink us further down.

I checked the time on my phone—just past midnight. Perfect. The meet was set, and I'd be in and out before anyone even noticed. I kept my pace steady as I made my way through the alley behind the old pub where the deals usually went down.

The familiar smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke wafted in the air. It was a reminder of all the shit I'd seen over the years, and yet, I couldn't seem to escape it. As I rounded the corner, I saw a figure standing by the dumpsters. It was Danny—one of the local dealers. He had the kind of grin that made my skin crawl, but I kept my cool. This was business.

"You got the goods?" I asked, my voice low.

Danny looked me over, eyes flicking over me like he was sizing me up. "You got the cash?" His tone was casual, but I knew he wasn't playing around. I pulled the money out of my pocket, careful to not show too much, and handed it to him.

He nodded, counting it quickly before pulling out the small plastic bag I'd been waiting for. I exchanged the money for the bag, slipping it into my jacket without a second thought. Business was business, after all.

"You know, kid," Danny said with a sly smile, "you're getting too comfortable. You keep this up, and you'll be stuck in this life for good."

I froze for a second, feeling the weight of his words hit harder than they should. Was that really what I wanted? To be stuck in this mess for the rest of my life? I didn't answer. Instead, I nodded and backed away.

"I'm good. Don't need your advice," I muttered, turning to leave.

Danny laughed behind me, but I didn't care. I'd heard it all before. The warnings, the judgments. People loved to tell you what to do when they thought they had it all figured out. But they didn't know. They didn't know how hard it was to get out of this shit when it was all you had left.

I made my way back through the alley, clutching the bag tightly, when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Mam.

I hesitated for a second, then answered. "Mam?"

"Kian, where are you?" Her voice was shaky, as usual. "I need you to come home. I'm—I'm just... not feeling right."

I took a deep breath, rubbing my forehead. "I'll be home soon, Mam. Just hang in there."

"I'm just so tired, Kian. I don't know what to do anymore."

My heart sank at the sound of her voice. It was the same thing every time. It felt like I couldn't be in two places at once—trying to make money and keep things from falling apart at home. But I couldn't leave her alone, not like this.

"Hang on, Mam. I'm on my way," I said, ending the call before she could say anything else.

I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and looked down at the bag in my hand. There was a part of me that hated this. But I didn't have another choice. Not really.

I took the long way home, keeping to the shadows. The streets felt colder now, and the familiar hum of the city seemed further away than ever. When I finally reached the house, I didn't even bother to knock. I just opened the door and stepped inside, knowing that whatever was waiting for me, it wouldn't be any easier than the last time.

I stepped inside, kicking my shoes off at the door and bracing myself for what I might find. The house was too quiet—too still. I could hear the faint murmur of the TV from the other room, but the air was thick with something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

"Mam?" I called out, walking into the living room. No sign of her.

I glanced toward the kitchen. Nothing. I wasn't sure where she was, but there was something off. Something in the air told me she wasn't okay.

I walked down the narrow hallway, heading toward her bedroom. The door was cracked open, and I could see a dim light spilling out. I hesitated for a moment, then pushed it open. My stomach twisted when I saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, her face drained of color, her shoulders slumped in a way I hadn't seen in a long time.

"Mam?" My voice was softer now, worried. She turned her head slowly, her eyes red, as though she'd been crying.

"Kian..." she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached for her stomach and looked down, as though she was trying to make sense of something. "I... I'm pregnant."

My heart sank, and the room suddenly felt like it was closing in on me. Pregnant? Again? The word barely registered as I processed it.

"What?" I managed, a little more sharply than I intended. "How... how is that even possible?"

Her eyes flicked to mine, and I saw the pain in them. "It's your da," she said, her voice trembling. "He... he got me pregnant again. And I don't know what to do, Kian. I don't want this. I can't do this again."

I stared at her for a second, completely frozen. My mind raced, but no words came. She looked so fragile, like she might crumble if I said the wrong thing. I wanted to scream at her, to tell her that she didn't have to put up with this—that she deserved better than him. But the truth was, she didn't have a choice. Neither of us did.

"I'm sorry, Mam," I said quietly, finally breaking the silence. "I... I didn't know."

She shook her head, her hands trembling as she wiped at her eyes. "You shouldn't have to deal with this, Kian. I don't want you to see me like this. I don't want to drag you into it."

I sat down beside her, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say. It wasn't the first time Dad had done something like this, and I knew it wouldn't be the last. He always promised he'd change, but the same patterns kept repeating themselves. And each time, Mam was the one who ended up stuck with the consequences.

"I'll help you, Mam," I said, trying to reassure her, even though I wasn't sure how. "I'll make sure he doesn't hurt you. I'll figure something out."

Her eyes met mine, searching for a glimmer of hope, but I could tell she didn't believe it. I couldn't blame her. I didn't know how I was going to fix this either. But I couldn't stand seeing her like this. I couldn't stand that she was so lost in this mess that she couldn't see a way out.

"I don't want him here," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I don't want this to happen again, Kian."

I nodded, squeezing her shoulder gently. "I won't let him near you. I'll make sure of it."

She nodded slowly, her head drooping as she leaned against me. I knew she was exhausted—physically, emotionally, every part of her was worn thin. And I hated seeing her like this. Hated that Dad's mess had dragged us down even deeper than before.

But as much as I wanted to make everything better for her, I knew it wasn't that simple. The truth was, I wasn't sure if I had the strength to change anything. But I wasn't going to stop trying. I couldn't.

"I'll make it right, Mam," I said, even if I wasn't sure how.

She looked up at me, a faint trace of hope in her eyes, and nodded again. "I'm counting on you, Kian. Please don't let him break us."

I didn't know how to respond to that. But in my heart, I made a silent vow that I'd do whatever it took to protect her. Even if it meant going up against Dad for the hundredth time.

The next few days felt like they dragged on forever. Mam barely left her room, and when she did, she looked like a shell of herself—tired, pale, and always with that look in her eyes like she was trying to figure out how it all went wrong. I could barely look at her without wanting to break down. She wasn't the woman I used to know. I knew she wasn't the woman she used to be either.

Dad was nowhere to be found. I hadn't heard from him since that night at the bar when everything went south. It wasn't like him to disappear like this. The silence was unsettling.

I spent most of my time either at the garage or out walking around the streets, trying to clear my head. I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to get a whole lot worse. I couldn't protect her from everything—especially not from the mess that was my father. I wasn't stupid; I knew he'd be back, and when he came back, it wouldn't be pretty.

It wasn't until I was at the garage, running a few errands for Joey, that I heard the knock on the door. It was subtle at first, barely audible over the hum of the engine I was working on. But then it came again—louder this time, more demanding.

I opened the door, expecting one of the usual customers, but my stomach dropped when I saw who was standing there.

Dad.

"Get inside," he said, his voice low and thick with something I couldn't quite place.

I froze for a second, staring at him. The tension in the air thickened instantly. He wasn't acting like his usual self. Something was different about him today.

"No," I said, voice steely. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

His expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he stepped forward. "You don't get to tell me what to do, Kian," he muttered. "You're coming with me, whether you like it or not."

I could feel the anger boiling inside me. I had no idea where it came from—whether it was the frustration of everything that had been building up or just the sheer hatred I had for him. But I wasn't about to let him dictate anything anymore.

"Not today," I said, stepping back and closing the door in his face. I knew it wasn't going to be that easy, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of making me feel small in my own damn garage.

I stood there for a moment, heart racing, and listened for his next move. He didn't knock again, but I could feel his presence on the other side of the door, waiting, watching. I gritted my teeth, taking in a deep breath.

This wasn't over.

I knew it was only a matter of time before he tried again. I couldn't just hide in here forever. I had to face him. But not today. Not when I was barely holding everything together as it was.

I turned back to the engine I was working on, trying to push all thoughts of him out of my head. Joey had been busy with some repairs, and I knew he'd be pissed if I didn't finish the job.

But as I worked, the feeling in my gut didn't go away. The uneasy silence of the garage made me feel like I was waiting for something—waiting for him to come back.

And I had a feeling he would.