The walk home was short, peaceful even that was until I rounded the corner to the street I lived on.

"Why do I have to go home?" I say to myself.

The weight of my backpack becoming even heavier and heavier with each step closer to a home that could care less about me, let alone treats me with respect. Sure my dad is in the guard and has been since he was my age just out of high school, I wish he would retire so I don't have to upheave my life every six to ten months and move to whatever town or base he's stationed at.

Leaving behind friends, lovers, family, or even comfort just so dad can get a glimpse of a potential promotion that will never happen. The guard dangle the carrot just to give out false hope then transfer us to wherever they see fit at the cost of our sanity and whatever semblance of normal we have achieved.

As I reach the driveway I can see that my mom is home probably cooking dinner or having another bottle and is passed out on the couch or at the table holding it close for comfort.

I don't say a word as I slowly open the door and gently close it behind me as to not make any noise. I see that mom is drunk again and trying to make dinner, most likely burnt to fuck and looks like slop that even hogs wouldn't eat.

"Oooohhh Alllleeexxxx, y-you're home," my mom said through a heavily slured speech. "H-hhow was sch-ool baby?"

"Looks like you waisted no time to crawl in that bottle this time, smells like a fuckin distillery in here. How many did you drink this time?" I say as I hang my bag on the hooks by the door.

"Now is tha any ways to talk to y‐our mommy?" Mom struggles to say as she sways and damn near stumbles over her own feet to greet me.

"How many mom, because I might need to call the paramedics like last time since you'd rather live in a bottle rather than deal with the problem," I say as I make my way to her so I could carry her to the bathroom just incase.

I put my arm around her waist and try to help her walk, "oh you h-hav-nt t-touched me like this in a l-lon ti-iimeee," mom says in a little giggly voice almost flirtatious tone.

"Mom you're hammered, and judging by the half filled blender you've been drinking all day again," I say as I help her to her bedroom, not getting more than two steps across the dining room/kitchen area before I feel her hand slowly make its way from my shoulder jently and sensually trace the muscles on my back.

"Y-yo look l-llik your father when w-eee were your age," she slurs out while tracing small circles between my shoulder blades, "you just have longer hair jus like your mommy,"

"Okay, looks like we are doing this again, for the third time this week," I say aloud.

Not getting more than a step or two across the room while being felt up, I do the only thing that seems to work without the unwanted physical touch by the person who's supposed to be my mother. Throwing her over my shoulder I hear a little squeal of excitement escape my mom's lips and then a long moan as I wrap my right arm around her waist.

"I don't want to do this again mom, you're too drunk and pent up to act like a mother," I say with barely a strain in my voice as I slowly make my way to her room to lay her down.

"Tha not verrryyyy nic-ce to say to your mommy. You never say anythin nice anymore, I'm home alone all day when your father is at the base and with you at school I don't ge to see you until you get home and when you are you're so cold to me, it's not fair." My mom says holding back tears.

"Great here comes the emotions again," I say under my breath as I slowly set her down.

I feel my mom grab the hem of my shirt and drag it over my head, after her feet are on the floor slightly shaky from the sudden contact my mom leans into my chest as she plants small kisses on my collarbone and neck.

"Why don't you love me, all I see is an ice cold gaze and your tone when you speak to me sends shivers down my spine, not the good kind of shivers either," my mom says as tears dampen the sparce hairs on my chest. "I can make you feel like you're the only one, make you feel loved all night when you get home, your father and I haven't been intimate for years because we are constantly moving from town to town." My mom says not realizing that I've been repeating her word for word.

I look down at the woman clinging to me crying as I slowly walk her over to the couch to have her sit down.

"Why dosn my baby bo lov me anymore?" She says through slured speech and ugly crying.

"You and I both know that you and I will never have that type of relationship, no matter how horny you are because dad is too busy with his job to properly show you the time of day, I don't want to have an insectuace relationship with my mother it's wrong on so many levels and you know that mom," I explain to her the best I can when she's drunk, "I'll make dinner for us okay then we can watch a movie or something okay?" I tell her as I give her a kiss on the forehead.

"I'm sorry baby boy," she says to me through tears.

"This is nothing new mom, I just wish you wouldn't drink like this. You won't make it long like this." I reply as I get up from her side.

There's nothing in the fridge, freezer, or cupboard; looks like I'm ordering out again this week. Shaking my head I mutter under my breath "I fucking hate it here," as I start to clean up the mess in the kitchen.

Scorch marks on the bottom of the pan, the stove still on high, and a burnt mess that is starting to smoke like the dying embers of a fire.

"Yet another pan I'll have to buy, and explain to dad about what happened,"
I sigh with frustration, "should I check her into a rehab or let her drink herself to an early grave?"

○●○

After some takeout dinner and a documentary about one of my favorite bands struggles on the road and the constant stress of their label pushing them to record more albums, mom passed out half way through and curled up on me like a cat asleep in a sunny spot on the floor or in a chair.

Carrying my mom to her room, gently laying her on the bed and cover her with the bed sheets I get a text.

From: Dad
Hope you're doing fine, sorry kiddo, I know how your mom can get.

I should be home late wednesday eveing so until then keep your mom away from the booze, its only 5 days so dont go postal.

Love Dad

"You son of a bitch, you're gonna get an earful when you walk through that door." I mutter as my mom grabbed my arm and trapped it to her chest for comfort, "Looks like it's another one of those weeks, hell of a Friday evening."

I slowly maneuver my hand from the surprisingly vice like grip of my drunken mother, walk to the other side of her bed and collapse onto the inviting comfort of sleep.

Author's Note

Didn't think it would take this long to get chapter 2 written but life gets in the way sometimes.

I'll try and keep to a regular release date for new chapters