Ghost in the wind calling you to take me home

Ghost in the wind crying, "where do I belong?"

Can anyone hear me now?

Can anyone hear me now?       - Birdy “Ghost in the Wind”

The sound of the leaking tap resonates around the bathroom, hitting each wall creating a deep echo. “Shut up” his raspy voice screams “just SHUT UP!” Then there was darkness.

      “Mommy, mommy...” the little boy hesitates, “Mommy, are you okay?” He taps her shoulder once more and her lifeless body falls into the puddle of vomit next to the bed. A stench fills the deteriorating apartment, the combination of rust and sickness is overwhelming. Tears begin to fall down his face as the busy sounds of the street fade away and his small frame trembles in the corner.

The woman’s screeching could be heard over the clamorous workings of the police station, “ I will not be responsible for his actions, he has to go!” Just like the times before, an officer approached the young boy and began to question him of his whereabouts the week before and why he did what he did. And just like all the times before Annie came to his rescue. Annie; the one person he could trust, the one person that was a constant in his life, more than just a social worker she was his only friend.

“What happened?” the overwhelming emotions were evident in her voice.

“Nothing... that asshole just started talking about my mom again.”

“Adrian, you can’t just attack someone every time they say something that you don’t agree with, this family has put in a request for you to move to a different house.”

“Fine! Not like I want to stay with those fucking idiots anyway.” His cold voice boomed in the boxy office.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice or swear at me ever again.”

He fell back into his chair, accepting his defeat. His warm eyes were hidden by the sternness of his features. His thick brows pulled into a constant frown, while his full lips were set in a straight line. Annie was the only person that received a smile from the broken boy, which in itself was a rare occasion.

“You’ll be moved to a different foster home on Wednesday, I’ll go to the Ryerson’s and get your things, you can stay here until then, there is some food in the fridge and a bed in the office next door.” Her motherly tone was endearing yet strict, the embers of her fiery hair completed her fierce personality while her bright blue eyes hid a deep sadness behind the sparkle. Sleep took over Adrian the instant he set his tired head on the rough surface of the pillow, and just like that he drifted into a deep slumber.

“Mommy, mommy... wake up!” The young boy screamed, “Wake up mommy”. Then came the creatures, from every corner, every dark room his past demons appeared, once again rearing their hideous masks. “No!” the little boy cried out, “No, leave her alone!”

“No!” he screamed,

“Adrian” Annie shook him, “Adrian wake up.”  

Conscious from his sleep he wakes up, sweat covers his shivering body and tears fill his dark eyes. It was that dream, a dream that he dreaded as much as he loved, one that reminded him of his misfortunes but gave him the chance to see his mother just one more time. Annie did not question him nor comfort him, she’d seen him have this dream before and knew that no words of consolation could fix what happened. Adrian shuts the bathroom door behind him and the dim light flickers on, the buzzing of the light bulb fills the silence along with the dripping water from the leaking sink. He strips off his sweat-soaked clothes and throws them in the corner, the taut skin of his body was covered in marks, each set of marks symbolizing a different foster home. The first were the whippings of a belt that blistered his skin and left deep scars on his young back. A trail of burns drifted up his right arm, the smaller ones from cigarettes and the bigger ones from cigars. Yet the one that hurt the most was the scar travelling from the top of his hip to the bottom of his knee. The mark of his father. A man that hated his own son so much that he killed himself rather than take care of his child. Adrian hated himself more than he hated anyone, a cursed child that’s what he was. He felt disgust at the reflection in the mirror, horrified by the sad face and dismembered body A knock at the door took him out of his haze, followed by Annie’s concerned voice, “Are you okay? It’s been a while since you’ve been in there.”

“I’m fine.” he grunts back and after a moment or so the shower clicks on and the rest of the world disappears. Each worry, each mark, each of his demon’s are temporarily washed away. Steam fills the bathroom as he exits the shower, the foggy mirror distorts his already disfigured body, after changing he exits and returns to Annie’s office.

“Was it the same dream?” She timidly questions, as if testing the water.

No response

“Are you okay?”

No response

“Come on, ta-” before she can finish her sentence Adrian bolts out of the building, running as fast as he can as if he were running away from his problems.

“Adrian, wait come back here, lets just talk this out, I’m sorr-” the sound of a horn stops Annie mid sentence as it comes rushing towards her, the screeching brakes are of no use and in a second the only person that loved him is gone. Her body crippled under the car of a reckless driver. Adrian feels himself drop down next to her and release the tears he’d been holding back for years. All those tears from his beatings that never got the chance to fall, all those tears every time he had the dream, all the tears he never got to cry; fell. Standing, he limps back to the building and returns to the same bathroom. His tear-streaked face in the mirror reflects back at him, showing him who he really is; a lost boy with nowhere to go and no one to love. Gathering his strength he reaches under the sink and feels for the bag, at last his hand feels the smooth plastic and he rips it from the counter.

The tub is filled halfway, with water as cold as his gaze. The feeling of desolation fills his empty heart as he grabs the razor, removing the blade. Blood trickles down his hand from the tiny scratch on his thumb. Taking one last breath, he releases his last demon; himself.