Never Going Back to Before

By Goldie

There was so much blood. He wasn't a scholar, or anything, or a doctor, so he shouldn't be so surprised that he wasn't aware, but he was a little shocked, still. So much blood. Who knew that a human head had that much blood in it? Who knew it wasn't mostly filled with brain? It was everywhere. Splattered over the furniture, and the walls. The curtains, and the glass behind them. Blood, and bits of bone, and char, and brain. His uncle, reduced to a mess he had to clean up. Not that the man had been kind to him. Not that he'd been comforting, or loving. He'd just fed him, and offered him a place to stay. His uncle, the brave war vet, who would wake him in the night, screaming. His uncle, who could finish a bottle of alcohol without even noticing what alcohol it was. His uncle, who could barely hold down a job, and pay the rent, and buy food. In the end, he was the one who took care of his uncle, and clearly, he had failed. His uncle was gone. And he was left to clean up the mess, once everyone who had come running at the sound of his own screaming had gone away.

The landlord hadn't bothered to help. The neighbors didn't bother to help, either. He was left alone to clean up, a boy 10 years old. And there was no cleaning most of the things in the apartment. Anything of fabric, anything that could absorb blood, or stain, was thrown away. He cleaned, and put everything else aside to sell. He didn't need any of it, he couldn't keep it, he couldn't afford to stay there, not all on his own.

His uncle had been the only one who wanted to take care of him, and without his uncle, he was going to be on the street. He was oddly alright with it. The street somehow seemed to only involve taking care of himself, and he could manage that. It was taking care of anyone else where he started failing.

He hadn't been able to take care of his mother or his father, but then again, he'd only been three when they died. He'd barely been allowed to wander around on his own, but he'd known his parents were sick, and he wasn't. And he knew they were cold, and weren't answering him, when they died. His uncle had stumbled in when the landlord sent for him, and he'd taken him home, grumbling the entire way there.

His uncle's apartment wasn't really a child-friendly place. He had a small cot, tucked into a corner, amid the empty bottles, the broken bottles, the crumbled up newspapers, and other related trash. There were no toys in his uncle's house. There were no children's books, he had the clothes on his back and nothing extra, and there were no children he knew in the neighborhood. He spent his days alone in his uncle's apartment while he was working, until he was six or so, and was given charge of a key of his own.

Having a key was a big deal to him. It meant he could go and come. But at the same time, he was also then in charge of getting food, and putting it together to make dinner. He got very good at working with what he had on hand, and if he made mostly stews and things that he could set to cooking and leave unattended for a bit, well...no one could really blame him.

And he was comfortable with it all. It took him years, but he learned to calm his uncle down when he was upset, learned to dodge when he was drunk, learned to clean and take care of the apartment, and cook. He thought they were settled. He thought...when he got a bit older, he could get a job somewhere, maybe, and he could afford to clean up the apartment a bit better, and maybe...

Well, now it didn't matter maybe anything. His uncle was gone, and he was alone. No more looking out for anyone else. No more cleaning up after anyone else. Once he'd managed to sell everything off, he was taking off, with whatever money he had, starting over, just him. He'd have to find a job, of course, and a place to stay, food to eat, so on. But...he would look out for himself, and just himself, from now on. Period.

Maybe newspaper selling...The boys he knew who sold papers were pretty carefree, and unattached. It seemed like it would fit him. Maybe. He'd have to see.