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clown-friend-gt · 6 months ago

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Up, Up, and Away: Chapter 5

Fun fact, the scene that happens towards the middle/end of this chapter was the first scene I ever thought of for this story. Or at least, some version of it. It's changed quite a bit since then, but I like the version I have now. I hope you do too!

Link to Masterpost

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Encouragement

1.8k words

(CW: Little bit of body horror)

Marta Castillo was struggling. Her son, Trevor grew more and more distant every day. He spent most of his time alone in his room, and only left the house to go to school. She knew she had to do something to help him out, but was at a loss as to what she could do.

She mulled all of this over as she walked the path to their apartment. The only thing she could think to do was to try and make him feel better about the changes he was going through. Maybe if she could show him that things weren’t all bad, he’d cheer up some.

A voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Marta, hey!”

She looked over to see her downstairs neighbor, Anne Murphy waving to her from the doorway to her apartment.

“Afternoon, Mrs. Murphy,” she said as she approached.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while, how’ve you been?”

Marta gave her a polite smile. “Well, thank you.”

“How’s that son of yours?”

Marta’s smile grew strained. She knew Anne was only asking to be nice, so she withheld an honest answer.

“He’s alright,” she told her.

“Good, good. I feel like I never see him around anymore.”

“Anyways,” Anne continued, “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. I keep hearing the floor shaking from upstairs, so I was wondering if everything was alright?”

Marta’s smile was slowly transforming into a grimace. “Everything’s fine, don’t worry.”

Mrs. Murphy didn’t seem to notice her discomfort.

“That’s good to hear. Do you think you could keep it down early in the mornings? The husband and I keep hearing it around 6 am. Of course, he doesn’t mind since he’s up that early anyways, but some of us like to enjoy our beauty sleep!”

She laughed as if she’d said something hilarious. Marta joined in nervously.

“I’ll—uh, try to keep that in mind. See you around,” Marta said, heading up the stairs to her own apartment.

“Alrighty, dear. Look after yourself,” Mrs. Murphy called up after her.

Marta shut the door behind her with a sigh, taking a moment to recover from the conversation. Then she called out to Trevor.

“Mijo, come help with the groceries!”

“…Do I have to?” came the response from behind his closed bedroom door.

“Come on, it’ll only take a minute,” she called back.

There was a brief pause. Then she heard the floor creaking as Trevor stood up and walked to his door. The door opened, and he bent over to fit through the doorway. He stayed hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling.

As he walked over to her, Marta could feel the thumping of his heavy footsteps. She’d have to remember to tell him to keep his steps lighter in the mornings for Mrs. Murphy. But that could wait for another time.

He stood over her, staring down at her, as he waited for her to tell him what to do. She wasn’t intimidated by his imposing figure; he was her son after all. But his looming over her did make her a little uncomfortable.

She opened the door and led him outside. He followed her down the old wooden stairs to the landing below. The stairs creaked ominously as they walked, but they held his weight.

Mrs. Murphy still stood in her doorway, reading her mail. She looked up with a friendly smile when she heard Marta coming, but it fell from her face as she saw Trevor following behind her. Her eyes widened slightly, before she gave him a curt nod and went back inside, closing the door behind her.

Trevor sighed dramatically. Marta did her best to ignore it.

She led him over to the car and opened the hatch in the back. Trevor kept looking around to the other apartments, like he was worried someone was watching him. She snapped her fingers to get his attention, then gestured to the groceries in the back of the car.

He gathered the groceries without protest, slinging multiple bags on his arms. He carried all of the groceries with ease. What would have taken her multiple trips was cut down to one with his help. She closed the door and grinned up at him.

“It’s so convenient having a son like you around,” she told him, patting his arm.

“Sure,” he answered indifferently.

He followed her as she led the way back to the apartment. She held the door open as he awkwardly squeezed through. With the bags hanging off of his arms, he had to scoot in sideways.

“Where do you want these?” he asked her.

“In the kitchen,” she said, closing and locking the door behind her.

He set the bags on the floor and began to shuffle off.

“Hang on,” she stopped him. “I need your help putting these away.”

Trevor shrugged, then turned back around to help.

She joined him in the kitchen and began unpacking all of the groceries. He helped out where he could. He watched with some discomfort as she brought out more and more packages of food, more than she could eat in a week.

“Mamá, you don’t need to keep getting this much food. I’m getting those meal-replacement thingies from the institute, remember?”

She gave him a doubtful look. “And how do they taste?”

“…Not good,” he admitted.

“Right,” she smirked. “It’s not an issue, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks,” he told her, though it wouldn’t keep him from worrying.

They settled into a comfortable silence while they put everything away. That is, until Trevor heard his mom struggling with something. He turned to see her with a jar of peanut butter in one hand, straining to reach the top shelf of the cabinet above the counter. Just when he thought she was about to start climbing, he stepped in.

“Here,” he said taking it from her hand. He stepped past her and placed it on the shelf, which was below eye level for him.

“See, isn’t that nice?” she said. “It’s nice to be able to reach this stuff, huh?”

“I get it,” he told her with a small smile. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better.”

“Hey, come here,” she said, spreading her arms and waving him towards her. He leaned down and wrapped her in a hug. It felt a little strange being able to completely envelop her in his arms. She rubbed his back comfortingly.

“Te amo, mijo.”

“Te amo, mamá.”

Marta leaned away to get a good look at him. She noticed some scratch marks on his neck that went under his shirt.

“What’s this?” she asked, tracing the scratches on his neck.

“It’s the shirts the institute gave me. They’re so itchy.”

“You don’t have to wear them. We can get you something else.”

“From where? I’m pretty sure the institute is the only place that makes clothes my size now.”

She frowned, but of course she had no argument. Trevor let her go, standing up again and going back to putting things away. Soon enough, she joined him, and they fell back into silence.

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Marta was up much too late that night. She had work the next morning; she couldn’t afford to be up on her laptop. And yet, here she was, tapping away at the story she’d been working on.

She liked to write in her free time. Little short stories, poems, excerpts from her life and all that. She sometimes dreamed of getting something published, but she knew it’d probably never happen.

Her eyes were beginning to feel sore from staring at the screen. She leaned back and rubbed her eyes to give them some relief. Then she stretched her arms above her head. As she did so, she heard a sound in the darkness.

She closed her laptop and listened carefully. Straining her ears, she could just barely hear the sound of Trevor’s breathing hitching.

Setting her laptop aside, she crept over to his door. She pressed her ear against it to try and hear what was going on. After a minute, it became clear to her what that sound was. Trevor was crying.

She knocked softly on the door. “Mijo, is everything alright?”

There was no response. She cracked the door open as quietly as possible.

In the low light, she could barely see. Trevor was too big to fit in his bed with the bedframe anymore, so they’d put his mattress on the ground for him to lay on. He was curled into the fetal position to fit on it as best as he could, but his legs still hung off the end.

He looked up as she opened the door, eyes shining with tears. She felt a pang in her heart as their eyes met. She rushed over to his side.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, kneeling next to him.

He sniffled; his eyes red from crying.

“Everything hurts, mamá,” he whined. His side rose and fell unevenly, his breathing ragged.

“Here, move over,” she told him. He did the best he could to make room for her, and she climbed in next to him.

“Come here,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her forehead to his. He sobbed quietly, shaking the both of them.

Underneath the sound of him crying, she could hear an odd popping sound. It was almost like the sound of joints cracking over and over. Every once and a while, after a particularly loud crack, he would flinch.

She struggled to imagine the pain he was in. She’d had growth spurts, sure, but nothing that came close to this. Her heart ached for him.

“Ay, mijo,” she whispered, stroking the back of his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her closer. She was wrapped up so tightly she could barely move, although it didn’t really matter. She had no plans of moving any time soon. The only thing that mattered right now was making sure that her son would be alright.

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Marta awoke with a start after starting to nod off. Trevor was still now, his breathing even. His side rose and fell slowly.

She could rest easy, now.

Figuring it would be best for her to go to her own bed, she tried to slip away without waking him. She let go of him and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. He must have felt her moving, as he only gripped her tighter.

“Mijo, I can hardly breathe,” she joked.

“Don’t go,” he pouted, only half-awake.

She sighed in defeat, but smiled softly. At his age, she never got to snuggle with him like she did when he was a kid. She’d take her victories where she could.

“I’m right here,” she told him. “Don’t worry.”

He let out a contented sigh, relaxing his arms enough for her to move again. She settled in, ready to pass out herself.

In the morning he’d surely be embarrassed to wake up like this. But for now, she’d enjoy this quality time with her son, both of them sleeping peacefully.

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