I Love You Mom

by marineproductions100

Rating: mature
Tags: Slice of Life, Dark, Sad
Length: 2083

Film has a mother who thinks that he doesn'tlove her. How pathetic right? Film usually loes in his room and cries until one day. He hears his momma crying and he goes downstairs to prove his love to his mom. But guess what? She doesn't care

Film comes home to his mother and Film's mom thinks that her son does not love her. Film steals her vodka and goes upstairs and cry over his mother's hatred. Until one day Film hears sobs echoing through his empty house and its not his. So he goes downstairs to see his mother lying on the couch crying into the pillows. Film tries to comfort his mother and prove to her that he loves his mother.

This story is my second first person view. This story is for my mother. Even though I am a "pathetic quiet drunk little fucker" I still show my love towards my mom. No matter how badly she treats me.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-04 04:40:03 UTC

Chapter 1: Sunday

I Love You Mom

Inspired by real feelings and some true events "some"

Chapter 1: Sunday

I slowly open my eyes with tears on my pillow. I look over to my left and see that the TV was turned off. My head felt dizzy, but it's probably from the alcohol I stole. I slowly lifted myself from my bed until I sat up straight. I looked around my bedroom and saw my door opening.

"Good morning." My mother greeted me. Thank god she didn't start anything this morning.

"Morning mom. Where's dad?" I asked. He's actually my step dad but I call him dad because he watched me grow up.

"He's downstairs." She replied.

"Hey mom. I was wondering about something."

"Sure, what is it?" She looked at me straight in the eyes.

I felt guilt inside of me. Because every time I look at my mother in the eyes. I feel like a piece of shit of a son. I feel ungrateful and pathetic. I feel like as if I hold her back from her true dreams. If she had any. But If I never knew that I wasn't planned then I guess I might feel better. But then again, I still would have felt the same way. There was silence in my room and complete silence downstairs.

"I was wondering how did Shea (Shay) leave us. Why did he leave us?" I finally broke the silence.

"He...He just left. He tried to take you but I couldn't." She answered.

"Your telling me he just left like that?"

"Well....Yes Film. He did." She stopped making eye contact with me and hid herself behind my door. "Dad's cooking breakfast."

I heard her hoofsteps walk down the stairs. Once I was certain that she was gone. I started to talk to myself, again.

"My biological father just walked out. He left her alone. That...that...that motherfucker." Anger started building up inside of me. "No no. He's gone and there's no reason to think about him. You got your answer and your not going to do anything stupid." I looked on the ground and saw a glass bottle of vodka. It was half full. "Better to take your mind off of it with a little help from the throat burner."

I picked up the bottle with my right hoof and opened the lid with my mouth. I put my lips around the top and tilted my head back. The alcohol slowly made it's way into my mouth and onto my tongue. Once it touched my tongue, I immediately remembered the taste. I decided to let the alcohol make a mouthful because I wasn't fully awake. Once my mouth was full, I slowly pushed the bottle away from my lips and accidentally spilling some on my coat. I looked down at the damp mat on my coat and wiped it away with my left hoof. After a couple seconds of wiping, I lifted my head to look at the ceiling so I could swallow the alcohol. I took a big gulp of all the alcohol in my mouth all at once. I immediately felt the pain of something burning in my throat. Once all the vodka went down my throat, I started coughing lightly so nopony could hear me.

"That's what I like about you." I stared at the bottle. I didn't realize that I chugged down half the bottle. "Goddammit Film you did it again. You pathetic quiet little drunken fucker." I named myself that every time something like this happened. I blamed myself for everything that happens but mainly because it always is my fault or that's how I feel at least.

I put the glass bottle under my pillow to hide it. I'm lucky that my mom didn't see it or else I would have had to explain why her vodka was in my bedroom. I walked over towards the door and placed my right hoof on the door knob. I twisted the handle and walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Once I reached the bottom, I entered a door that was right in front of the stairs. The door led to the kitchen where I found my dad making us biscuits and gravy. It was something we did on Sundays but not as much as we used to because we're low on money. We live in the poorest community, but we're not the poorest family. Nor the richest, because all the rich people have these big ass yards and houses that make our house look pathetic like me.

I took pride in my house because it was made over a hundred years ago and it's still in good condition. It's lived through two centuries and I hope it survives through three. I walked over towards the refrigerator to get something to drink. I grabbed the handle with my left hoof and pulled it open. It made it's way towards me in a 90 degree angle and I let the door drift away into a 120 degree angle. I looked at the filtered water in our fridge but underneath it was Coors light beer. So I grabbed one and cracked it open while my dad stood there still making the gravy. He heard the sound that the can made and he looked over at me while I took a sip from the beer.

"You didn't ask if you could have that." Dad said to me.

"Oh, sorry. Do you want one?" I asked.

He sighed and looked at me in the eyes. I felt fear form inside of me. Because every time I look at him, I'm always flinchy around and I feel like out of nowhere he's going to hit me. Even though he never has done it before. "Yes."

Once I heard the response, I immediately grabbed a beer can and handed it to him. "There you go."

"Thank you." He cracked open the bottle and took a sip from the can.

I took another sip and all of a sudden I heard the door open and somepony walked in the room. I didn't know who it was until I turned around and saw my mother. She stared at me and at the can in my hoof, every second. Her mouth was starting to open and her eyebrows started to slant down towards her eyes to show the expression of anger.

"Film Maker why are you drinking beer!" She yelled at me.

I took a couple steps back and gazed at her in the eyes. I felt tears trying to form into my eyes but I held them back, even though I was scared. She took a couple steps towards me when I took my steps. You did it again Film Maker. You just couldn't help yourself from grabbing that beer could you? I guess I am a pathetic quiet little drunken fucker.

"I..I...I." I stuttered trying to make words. I didn't like excuses so I told her the truth. But only because I don't like lying to my mom. "I wanted one." I lowered my gaze towards the ground so I wouldn't make eye contact with her.

"You wanted one! I don't think you realize that your not an adult. Your still fourteen years old. Your still a colt. Plus you didn't buy that and that's not yours. That's me and your dad's." She looked up at my dad. "What do you think his punishment should be?"

I turned around to face dad. He was still making eye contact with my mom. "He can go mow the lawn and we can take away his Xbox for two weeks." He looked down at me with no expression on his face.

"That sounds fair. What do you think Film?" She asked me?

Why would you ask me about my punishment? It's obvious I don't find it fair but of course I'll say yes. "Yes." I mumbled.

Mom took the beer can away from my hoof and started chugging down the beer. I walked towards the back door and placed my hoof on the doorknob. Before I could twist the handle, I was stopped when I heard my mom say something to my dad. "That'll teach him."

After hearing those words, I stood there for a moment and then I quickly turned the handle and walked outside. I had tears forming in my eyes and I couldn't stop thinking about the words that my mom said. They kept on echoing in my head. I felt like as if she doesn't love me. I felt like as if I was a piece of shit to her. I felt pathetic and sad. Two emotions mixed in me at once. The hatred for being so pathetic and the sadness of the hatred that my mother has towards me. I walked down a little sidewalk we had next to a small set of stairs next to the backdoor. I was making my our to our garage because that's where we kept the lawn mower. I walked up to the garage and saw that it was lock and that I needed a key. I sighed and looked back at the lock.

"Fuck you Film." I said to myself

................

Three hours later I got done mowing the lawn. It took me three hours because we owned two acres of land and the grass wouldn't cut down to the right size. so I had to do it multiple times. I was walking up our little sidewalk while wiping sweat from my forehead. I walked up our small set of stairs and made my way to the backdoor. I placed my hoof on the door and slowly opened it. I entered the kitchen and saw an empty plate sitting on the kitchen counter. I looked over towards the oven and saw a biscuit laying on a tray. I walked up to the kitchen counter and grabbed the plate. I walked over towards the biscuit and placed it on my plate. I saw a pot next to the biscuit and it had very little gravy inside the pot. The pot had a spoon sitting inside the pot so I could scoop up the gravy. I grabbed the spoon and scrapped against the sides of the pot to get as much gravy as I could.

I had a spoonful of gravy and I gently poured the gravy onto my biscuit. I placed the spoon back inside the pot and picked up my plate. I walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs so I could be by myself. I walked up to my door and slowly twisted the handle. The door slightly moved once the handle twisted all the way. I had to push the door open and walk inside. I placed my plate on the bed and before I could start eating. I walked over towards my stereo that stood next to my door. I started to play some "Ponyville undead" and put on a specific song. I pushed a button that said "disk 3" because the stereo allowed three CDs. I put on a specific song from the album and pushed the repeat button that was next to the button disk three. I walked over towards my bed and started to eat my breakfast even though it was noon and my family started lunch.

The song was playing over and over. Once I finished eating my breakfast, I placed the plate next to my stereo. I turned off the lights in my room and made my way over towards my bed. I slowly laid myself down under my covers and laid my head on my pillow. The words from the song started to get into my mind when I actually started to listen.

"Oh my desolate soul, in my desolate home, it's my desolate role." That's the first thing I heard out of the stereo.

"Fuck my life." I whispered to myself.

I felt a tear escape my right eye and stream down my cheek. I didn't bother to wipe it away. No, I just let it streamed down my face and onto my pillow. My pillow was already stained by tears and I didn't care anymore. I slowly turned onto my left side making me stare out my window. I closed my eyes and tears started to escape my eyes and my mind started to drift away. I felt the need for sleep aching in my body. And soon I was asleep.