I must have been obviously upset. I raked my fingers through my hair. ‘She’s angry?’ ‘I think so, yeah.’ ‘Then let her calm down a little. Text her later.’ Mum, of course, could sound completely calm and logical. But it wasn’t that simple. It… fuck. Violet couldn’t go back to that environment. I had no idea what she was going back to. I had no idea what was going on. Mum’s hand stroked soothingly over my shoulder but I couldn’t accept it. I pulled away, retreating up the stairs. ‘Mate?’ Wesley asked. ‘The fuck?’ I ignored him and went straight to my room, but he followed. Shit. Shit. Why was this fucking happening? I wanted to get dressed and chase outside after her, but some fear was stopping me. The way she’d looked at me, I felt like she’d leave me forever. ‘David. Mate. What was that about?’ I sat on my bed and buried my face into my hands. How had it happened? I had some faint, lingering memory from last night – Violet sitting up in bed, light of her phone’s screen on her face.. I guess I'd better tell you a little about myself. I was born in a Midwestern town. I was an only child. After WWII it was very prosperous, but as the years passed the town suffered a drop in prosperity.My Mom and Dad were in the lower middle class income bracket at the start of the decline. When the factory my Dad worked in closed, so did his employment opportunities. We lived on his separation pay and what little work he could find. One of is part time jobs was the overnight cleaning of a local bar.I guess that job was his downfall. He started drinking. At first it was just a beer before starting his overnight. It progressed to hanging around in the morning for an "eye opener". Finally he spent all his waking hours in the bar drinking. We soon lost the house, but the bar owner took pity on us and made a small shack by the rail yards part of his pay. My Mother and Dad fought all the time they were together. My Mother wasn't there one day when I returned. I never saw her or heard from.
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