Page 5 of Hades

Kyle wasn’t allowed to attend a regular school, his mama said the state would take him away if she sent him, whatever that meant, he figured she was trying to tell him he was bad, and she was protecting him. One of his aunts taught him to read, that was the extent of his education, now he spent the nights reading the bible gifted from his father.

Father Xavier Abaddon came by once a month without fail to visit his mom, he barely paid Kyle attention, sometimes if he was in a decent mood he’d let Kyle choose a candy from the bag he stowed in his pocket, the candy was sweaty and misshapen but Kyle loved it, he’d save it for after dinner when he was watching TV really loud so he couldn’t hear the noises coming from his mom’s room, she liked to have loud conversations with his dad and it always made Kyle feel funny in his belly.

When he heard squeaking from the other room he turned the TV up as far as it would go. His mom got mad at him when he jumped on the bed.Beds don’t grow on treesshe’d yell. He knew they didn’t, they came from the store, beds would look weird on trees, who would put them up there?

“Bitch.” Father Xavier bellowed. Kyle’s belly began to hurt. “Slut! You’re a slut, Renee.” Squeak. Squeak. “Oh, my sweet bitch, my sweet love, give me it!” The shriek of the bed increased, Kyle looked towards the door before rushing forward and using the knob on the TV to turn it to its fullest. “Turn that fucking noise down, boy!” He frowned and did as he was told, slapping his hands on his ears, the candy forgotten.

Kyle tried more than once to run away from home. He thought maybe if he could get a job he would be able to buy his mom the medicine she needed to make her happy all the time and not just sometimes, but someone always brought him back and then she’d beat him before he could tell it was all for her, he was doing it to make her happy.

He went to bed crying all because he wanted to make his mom happy.

When he was nine it was the longest time he’d been away, he’d learned to evade cop cars and he slept in an alleyway with a man who smelled of trash cans who gave Kyle a half-eaten sandwich and all he had to do for it was let the man touch the front of his pants.

He’d disliked that man and he’d ran away again before he could ask about a job. The cops found him a day later returning him to his mom and aunts. The cop stayed a while for a loud talk with his mom in the other room.

That happened a lot.

“Look after your mom, son.” His dad told him. He was all red in the face, sweat beading his cheeks like his dad had been running. Kyle loved to run as well. He was super-fast, not like that fat boy down the street who didn’t run at all. “The devil is always here. Repent of your sins and receive salvation.” He’d nodded and told himyes, sir. He didn’t want to ask what repent meant.

It was the longest time later when Kyle made himself a jelly sandwich, long after Father Xavier left to go back to his church, when his mom came out of her room in her favorite pink robe tied with a blue sash.

Her eyes glassy as she shuffled by Kyle like she didn’t even see him.

“Mom, do you want half of my sandwich? It’s grape jelly, your favorite.” She said grape was the best because it tasted like wine. Kyle preferred raspberry, but she never bought him that one. She ignored him, moving to sit at the small kitchen table, crossing a leg over the other he saw purple marks all along her thighs, her fingers shook as she lit a cigarette. He didn’t like the smell but when he’d told her before she’d got real angry and told him to mind his own fucking business, so now he just learned to breathe through his mouth when his mom was smoking.

Nibbling on the crusts first, he sneaked glances over at her, red marks covered her neck like an animal attack. How did that happen? Maybe she knocked it again, it happened a lot.

“Mom, can we play a game tonight? Aunt JoJo said If I was good I could try her Gameboy!” He smiled with jelly stuck to his top lip, he was so excited, it looked so cool, he bet he could beat her score.

Without warning his mom flung the saucer she was using to catch the ash from the cigarette across the table, only because he ducked quickly did it miss hitting him in the side of his head, her face got real red, angry spit coming out of her mouth. “For god’s sake, Kyle, haven’t I told you not to ask people for things?!”

“But I didn’t—“

Whack. Her hand stretched across the table and thumped him across the face. Tears filled his eyes, his dad said to not be a big baby all the time, but his head hurt, he tried hard not to cry, he really did.

“Just be quiet and leave me alone. I swear, you get more likehimevery day, take, take, take, I’m sick of it, Kyle, I’ve got nothing left to give! I’ll beat it out of you if I have to. I should have given you up.” She yelled angrily grabbing her cigarettes and lighter, a different plate from beside the sink, and she hobbled off through the rooms slamming the door behind her. Kyle’s head dropped as he rubbed his sore cheek. Who was he like? She said that a lot and he never understood.

He tried so hard to behave, to not make noise, to go where she sent him and to do as he was told. But he guessed she was right, he just couldn’t be good at all, he was always bad as his dad said. He’d go look up what repent meant in the dictionary, maybe if he did what Father Xavier said, his mom would think he was good and wouldn’t hit him again.

I wish you’d never been fucking born.

Some days Kyle wished it as well.

CHAPTER THREE

“Fifteen…”

Most birthdays were more forgettable than others, like the ones from birth until he was fourteen, forgettable. Nothing special, just another day. While he saw other kids in the street with their expensive toys, and balloons decorating the outside of the house, sometimes they had bounce houses as well, and that one kid, spoilt little runt, got his own petting zoo for his birthday one year. Kyle snuck around the back of his house to watch all the excited kids petting lambs and holding rabbits.

Stupid animals.

He’d glowered, his face mottled, seething jealousy from his eyes and when the kids went into the house to fill their fat fucking spoiled faces with cake and ice cream he’d slipped into the garden and … well…what started as desperate revenge became something very ugly in seconds … when those fat runts had returned to the garden their terrified screams at discovering all those white bunny rabbits slaughtered in the cages was music to Kyle’s ears.Happy Birthday, dickhead.Maybe if he’d received an invite he would have been nicer, but no one ever invited Kyle to anything.

Mother’s saw him in the street playing by himself and would draw their kids away like he had the fucking herpes. Screw them, he never needed no one anyway.

Birthdays came and went, he didn’t care.

But his fifteenth birthday was special for a lot of reasons. Mainly three; who can say they had sex for the first time, murdered and joined a motorcycle club all in one day?

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