act I, opening: “find her.”
229 Words
WHAT KIND OF PERSON left their own son?
Clayton supposed it wasn't to be much of a shock. His dad was only there in flesh, normally when Clayton looked at him he saw a weeping heart but lately, he just looked dead.
Clayton stalked up to his father's room, the tears welling up in his eyes with each step up the brown rug covered stairs.
He was a d**k. How could he just leave? Even though the only thing akin to time together was sitting side by side, as they watched the game on weekends, a large meat-lovers pizza from Ronnie'sbetween them and Budlight on the table in front of them, Clayton likedit.
He even liked hearing the door to his dad's room open and close when he came in late in the night. After all, it was not until then that sleep would finally take him in it's peaceful arms.
But forget all that and just run off somewhere right? Clayton's lip curled into a scowl.
What was the use of staying in this house? Maybe he should go somewhere too.
Clayton pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and unlocked it, his thumb scrolling through his contact list to Mom.
Jitters filled his stomach as he listened to the dial, waiting for the woman who had birthed him to pick up her phone.
- Writer
