*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1009905-Mommy--Dearest
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1009905
A mother's deepest love
When Martin opened the door to the ratty trailer, he smelled death. It was raunchy and bitter. It fingered his nostrils and shoved itself into his throat. Last day of tenth grade and after a party at a friend’s house, he was at home with emptiness. His mother worked cal the graveyard shift at the Laundromat just up the road. It was opposite the end of deserted town that he had come from. He had missed her by an hour.

It was just the two of them. Martin would have loved to say that his mother had a day job or worked such a job to take care of him but he knew the real reason. She did not want to have to see him. He reminded her of his father. His father reminded her of the woman that she was, once upon a time. That was before Martin Senior took a dive off of the Flint Bridge ten years ago. It had been down hill since then and it had been a suck ass ride.

Martin tried to make his self believe that the stench was old garbage. His mom refused to flush the shit paper from the bathroom. It collected in the wastebasket and on the floor if he did not make a point to get it dumped to the can outside. He knew that wreaking odor was something more sinister. It was also the quietness. The silence that gripped his residence had a tight grasp on the entire trailer park. His stomach buzzed with uneasiness.

While Martin was making an attempt to enter his room, his only solace, he noticed a pool of dark liquid coming from the bathroom. It was a tiny bathroom; maybe the toilet had overflowed. Maybe that was the awful smell. He would have to get that fixed before his mother got home. She would accuse him, and rightfully so, of flushing the shit paper.

Martin retreated his foot from the entryway of his bedroom and walked further down the hall. It was not water that he was looking at; it was much thicker and darker. He could see more of the spillage darting the walls and ceiling. There was a small mirror on the outside of the door to his mother’s bedroom. The only interior door in the small trailer was opened into the room. With the moonlight bleeding through the blinds, he could see the reflection of a body.

Martin immediately vomited and ran sliding in the blood slicks in the tiny hallway. After what seemed like an eternity, he was out the front door. Puke streams still hanging from the sides of his mouth. He was sure it was his mother. He ran to the trailer in front of his and banged and hollered for help. He begged for someone to call 911. As he pounded on the door, it came open. He spotted a phone in direct view of the door and did not hesitate to run to grab it. He caught someone out of the side of his eye. When he turned to apologize and plead again for help, he saw a man sprawled on the couch. Martin was sure the man was dead. The victim’s guts were removed and hanging on the sconces the jutted from the wall. The blood appeared to be sprayed heavy on the walls. There were a few pools of it gathering. Martin was now terrified at seeing this display of inhumanity.

He backed in such a hurry of the trailer; he fell down the steps. Martin wondered if everyone in the trailer park dead? It was dark but there were occasional lights that were on. Most appeared to be nightlights, dim and sparse. Every four trailers or so, there were yard lights. He ran six trailers up the road; until he reached a trailer that was directly under one of the yard lights. Its blue hue was thick yet empty. Martin froze trying to listen for life. He feared he could not hear if over the noise of his panic. He did not hear anything. Then, heavy footsteps gobbled the silence. Deep in his stomach, Martin knew this was not good.

He fled in desperation. He ran out of the trailer park, that was at least a mile off of the state highway. He heard a vehicle start in the distance behind him. Terror snatched a hold of him again. Though Martin thought he was running for his life, giving it all he had. He found there was more to put forth when he heard the vehicle coming in his direction. Adrenaline raged out of him. He told himself that he had to run to the gas station. It was country block from where he would hit the highway. Alvin’s Gas and Gulp stayed open all-night and neighbored Lulu’s Coin Laundry where Martin’s mom was supposed to be working. Tears pooled and then flooded from Martin. He wondered what in the hell had happen. How could anyone do something so vicious? How could anyone slaughter an entire community?

The car or truck was getting closer. This monster had heard Martin and was coming for him. There were no survivors. Martin decided that he would have a better chance of living through this if he hit the ditch. He could see bright lights of Alvin’s Gas and Gulp. He decided that he would not make it, so he lay down in the ditch face up. He hoped that he could see the vehicle and maybe identify it. As he lay there, he was able to see a truck slowing down. It pattered along and then past. He could not identify it; it was an older model. Trucks had never been his thing. Martin rolled over on his stomach in the deep weeds and saw the truck put on brakes. He ducked down a little. Then the truck turned into Alvin’s Gas & Gulp. Martin crept through the trees towards the all night store. The night was still empty of sound. Martin noticed his heart beating louder than he had ever heard it before. His mind wondered to earlier in the night when he was at the party of Joey Hatters. Minx Lewis had cornered him off into a closet. He thought she was going to suck his life out of his dick.

A man pleading for his life broke through Martin’s erotic thought. Martin ducked behind the tree he was clinched to. He saw an average size figure pounding the night clerk with a bat. Martin began to weep. He could try to run further into town but what use was it. He could not out run the truck. He was going to be caught and killed in some violent fashion. An uncontrollable whale escaped from his gritted mouth. The psycho stopped beating the night clerk, who had been dead after the first whack and looked directly at Martin.

“Honey”, his mother’s voice came calling. Martin pissed himself from the most terror he had experienced all night. “Don’t worry babe, everything is going to be alright.”

Martin eased out into the light. His mother smiled and tossed the bat into the back of the truck. “Honey, I am sorry about the mess at the house, I know you are such a neat freak. I hoped to make it to you before you got home. But we’re going to find a new home, so it doesn’t matter anyway. I promise things will change babe.” She was easing closer to him. She could see tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh, sweetie, you must have thought that was me at the trailer. It was your father. He attacked me. It was an accident. I just grabbed the screwdriver on the windowsill, firs thing in site. I was only trying to defend myself. I just couldn’t stop. I was so afraid and so upset.” She cried.

“He had faked his death. He had left us all these years to fend for ourselves. Now, he shows back up. I don’t know if he was bored or broke. He told everyone in the park that we knew about it. He showed them photos from our wedding night. I could feel their eyes on me this afternoon. Your dad had traveled door to door putting me on display, trying to pimp me out like some kind of slut. I tried to find you.” Her bawling subsided as her tone turned toward anger. “When I went to the Hatters’ house, saw you go in the closet with that girl. That little whore. I won’t let her destroy you.”

“Mom,” Martin whimpered.

“Martin,” Her tone was blank as she pulled a gun. “Found this in your dad’s truck,” she said waving the gun. “I don’t want to hurt you baby but we got to get going. You’ll understand better later. Get in the truck. Catch a little sleep. I’ve got some clothes for you.”

Matin walked, in a state of unconsciousness, with his mother towards the truck. She opened the driver’s side door and motioned for him to get in. She explained that the passenger’s door did not open. It was probably a deliberate malfunction courtesy of his dad.

She slid into the driver’s seat and ruffled Martin’s hair. “Honey, everything is going to be fine.” She cranked up the truck and drove back in the direction of the trailer park. Martin relaxed once they had passed it but he was still numb. The night’s sky was so clear and the starts shown with boldness Martin could not recall seeing before. Soon, he drifted off to sleep as his mother hummed a sweet tune.

© Copyright 2005 miranda (mrndchrls at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1009905-Mommy--Dearest