This is a fic about Scott as a child. It's pretty messed up.
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Morning sun. A pale hand pours the blue contents of one container into a mug of coffee. His hands are then clasped around the mug tightly, as he fears dropping it.
Slowly, the nine year old hands it to his mother, trying to hold back his smirk. He can see that she's trying not to glare at him, but he's not sure why. "It's about time you came back with my coffee..."
"Sorry, mom," Scott says, though it only took him about a minute to poor the coffee and add his 'secret ingredient'.
"You're not sorry about shit," she sits back, taking a long drink. Her face contorts with confusion and disgust. "Did you wash this?"
"Sure did, ma," Scott insists, "How about you drink some more?"
"Why? What'd you do to it?"
"Nothing." The lie rolls off his tongue easily, as would so many other lies.
She shrugs and takes another drink. Then the mug is literally tossed aside, hot coffee scorching the carpet with light brown. Scott feels his heart drop in that instant-- his plan has failed.
"You didn't wash the fucking dishes, you little shit!" His mother backhands him as hard as she can. Thankfully, by this point, Scott is used to holding back tears.
It's Windex, not soap! He wants to scream it at her, but he knows that will get him in worse trouble. So he settles instead for a feigned look of innocence as he tells her, "I'm sorry, Mommy, I didn't mean to."
"Bull fucking shit! I'll make my own damn coffee then..." Her eyes seem to darken, and she groans. "But... Come here, Scotty. I wanna tell you a story first..."
He goes to sit at the kitchen table, waiting for his mother to return with her coffee. When she sits across from him, the cigarette in her mouth is already lit.
The first words out of her mouth as she blows smoke into the air: "Do you know what an abortion is?"
"Nope."
She taps the cigarette on the table-- they have no ash tray. "That's when a girl's pregnant, but she doesn't want the baby, so she gets rid of it."
"Okay." He has nothing else to say. But she stares at him as if he must be putting two and two together... Upon realizing she must say the awful truth, she groans again, taking a drink and a drag.
"Well, I didn't have a doctor to give me an abortion. That's why you're here."
"Huh?"
She rolls her eyes. "You're a mistake. I only gave birth to you because I couldn't get rid of you."
"Why would you want to get rid of me?" he asks, still not fully sure.
"Because I knew you were gonna ruin my life. And I was right, like I always am!"
Scott lets the words sink in. So he was never supposed to walk the earth... He was unloved from conception... His own mother is telling him these horrible truths... He's a mistake.
And yet he doesn't care. After all, she's called him worse.
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Morning sun. A pale hand pours the blue contents of one container into a mug of coffee. His hands are then clasped around the mug tightly, as he fears dropping it.
Slowly, the nine year old hands it to his mother, trying to hold back his smirk. He can see that she's trying not to glare at him, but he's not sure why. "It's about time you came back with my coffee..."
"Sorry, mom," Scott says, though it only took him about a minute to poor the coffee and add his 'secret ingredient'.
"You're not sorry about shit," she sits back, taking a long drink. Her face contorts with confusion and disgust. "Did you wash this?"
"Sure did, ma," Scott insists, "How about you drink some more?"
"Why? What'd you do to it?"
"Nothing." The lie rolls off his tongue easily, as would so many other lies.
She shrugs and takes another drink. Then the mug is literally tossed aside, hot coffee scorching the carpet with light brown. Scott feels his heart drop in that instant-- his plan has failed.
"You didn't wash the fucking dishes, you little shit!" His mother backhands him as hard as she can. Thankfully, by this point, Scott is used to holding back tears.
It's Windex, not soap! He wants to scream it at her, but he knows that will get him in worse trouble. So he settles instead for a feigned look of innocence as he tells her, "I'm sorry, Mommy, I didn't mean to."
"Bull fucking shit! I'll make my own damn coffee then..." Her eyes seem to darken, and she groans. "But... Come here, Scotty. I wanna tell you a story first..."
He goes to sit at the kitchen table, waiting for his mother to return with her coffee. When she sits across from him, the cigarette in her mouth is already lit.
The first words out of her mouth as she blows smoke into the air: "Do you know what an abortion is?"
"Nope."
She taps the cigarette on the table-- they have no ash tray. "That's when a girl's pregnant, but she doesn't want the baby, so she gets rid of it."
"Okay." He has nothing else to say. But she stares at him as if he must be putting two and two together... Upon realizing she must say the awful truth, she groans again, taking a drink and a drag.
"Well, I didn't have a doctor to give me an abortion. That's why you're here."
"Huh?"
She rolls her eyes. "You're a mistake. I only gave birth to you because I couldn't get rid of you."
"Why would you want to get rid of me?" he asks, still not fully sure.
"Because I knew you were gonna ruin my life. And I was right, like I always am!"
Scott lets the words sink in. So he was never supposed to walk the earth... He was unloved from conception... His own mother is telling him these horrible truths... He's a mistake.
And yet he doesn't care. After all, she's called him worse.
