Post by sosa lola on Nov 10, 2009 14:13:02 GMT -5
Title: Against the Wall
Setting: Late season 3 of BtVS.
Summary: "Well, Xander, I could dress more like you, but, oh, my father has a job."
~*~*~*~
Xander was lying in bed, calling out for sleep, when his father's yell reached his room, "Hand me the money now!"
He heard his mother's miserable voice, "Where can I get it? The only money I have barely covers the rent."
His father's voice reached him quickly, cutting through the shade, "I don't give a ****, give me what's left."
"What about the rent?" his mother asked, tired.
He waited for the moment she would stand by his door calling out for support. She usually did it, and he had gotten used to it.
He forced himself up, walking out of his room with eyes not used to the light outside the dark room. "Are we repeating the same song again?" he asked, yawning.
His mother advanced toward his tall figure and held his arm. "Talk to your father. I can't stand it, anymore."
Tony didn't seem to care or notice how tall and broad Xander had gotten. He let out a mocking laugh that passed Xander's sloping body, reaching the side of his bed inside his peaceful room.
"What's up now?" Xander gritted out.
"I want the money," Tony answered in anger. "Can't have someone paying for my beer."
The words crossed into his angry, helpless soul, feeling the misery pouring out of his mother. Xander fixed his pajama, avoiding the ties holding his tall, useless body. He hated the moment where he felt he owed to reproach his father, knowing how that would end. Yet he started the fire. "Look for a job. Can't let mom deal with all the financial problems."
He anticipated his father's reply, which was why he found himself instinctively turn around ready for a long night sleep.
"Look who's talking? Maybe you should start paying rent, seeing that you ain't getting to any college. Can't let 'mom' keep feeding an eighteen-year-old, taller than both his parents."
Suddenly, his father snatched his mother's bag from the kitchen table, unaware of Jessica's protests. He emptied what was inside on the table and grabbed her wallet. Taking all the money he could find, the cold look in Tony's eyes softened, his firm shoulders loosened. He walked toward Jessica and placed an unwanted kiss on her forehead, before walking out.
Xander realized that the same sidewalks coming out of the harsh street were waiting for him again. Same rejection, same letdown, he was used to it. He needed money for his road trip, never thought he needed it to keep living. Never thought there would be life waiting for him once high school was over.
"You can sleep now," his mother said, keeping her voice neutral. But he could hear her accusing voice yell at him, 'Do something. Can't you see how exhausted I am? There's no bright future for you, so start helping the family.'
She dully took a quarter full bottle of beer and sat down on the kitchen table. He watched her with great sadness, picturing her working her ass off to keep the roof over the two big useless wastes of men in her life.
He was reminded of this man – clean-cut, chic, big office and all Cordelia looked for in a man – slapping him with words coming out of his charming mouth, "Sorry, no opening."
Another charming mouth saying, "Sorry, can't accept you until you get a college degree."
A mouth that knew nothing about charming refused, "You're not fit for it."
Fired from Pizza Hut, same went with Burger King, paper boy was also out. Who cared? He thought bitterly, heaving a sigh, shaking his head in sorrow.
Next day, his footsteps dug the burning streets with their constant crawl. The sun peered above his head, its flaming rays bored into his chest. The shops surrounding him were filled with expensive jewelry, their golden spangles danced through the shop front in detestable challenge. Guys would skip these shops as they walked with their girlfriends holding their arms, reminding him of his loneliness.
He leaned his back on the wall, gazing at the passing figures with seething eyes. He looked away when he spotted a girl from his school with her boyfriend, pointing at a fancy dress in one of the shops, telling him that she would buy it for the Prom. That reminded him of his friends, all leaving for college, all with significant others, all happy and content.
He glued himself to the wall, alone, cast-off. The air around him was still without a dream, days came and went quietly. His mother was slaving at the drive-in and his father was passed out on their living room couch.
He glued himself more to the wall, giving his rumbled, dirty clothes one last look, before he held out his hand, mortified. He felt the volcanoes inside him burst. His fingers didn't dare to lose the fist, until he forced them with hesitation. No one paid attention to his withered pose, his extended hand going further away from his body. His head hung in shame as he waited.
The End.
Setting: Late season 3 of BtVS.
Summary: "Well, Xander, I could dress more like you, but, oh, my father has a job."
~*~*~*~
Xander was lying in bed, calling out for sleep, when his father's yell reached his room, "Hand me the money now!"
He heard his mother's miserable voice, "Where can I get it? The only money I have barely covers the rent."
His father's voice reached him quickly, cutting through the shade, "I don't give a ****, give me what's left."
"What about the rent?" his mother asked, tired.
He waited for the moment she would stand by his door calling out for support. She usually did it, and he had gotten used to it.
He forced himself up, walking out of his room with eyes not used to the light outside the dark room. "Are we repeating the same song again?" he asked, yawning.
His mother advanced toward his tall figure and held his arm. "Talk to your father. I can't stand it, anymore."
Tony didn't seem to care or notice how tall and broad Xander had gotten. He let out a mocking laugh that passed Xander's sloping body, reaching the side of his bed inside his peaceful room.
"What's up now?" Xander gritted out.
"I want the money," Tony answered in anger. "Can't have someone paying for my beer."
The words crossed into his angry, helpless soul, feeling the misery pouring out of his mother. Xander fixed his pajama, avoiding the ties holding his tall, useless body. He hated the moment where he felt he owed to reproach his father, knowing how that would end. Yet he started the fire. "Look for a job. Can't let mom deal with all the financial problems."
He anticipated his father's reply, which was why he found himself instinctively turn around ready for a long night sleep.
"Look who's talking? Maybe you should start paying rent, seeing that you ain't getting to any college. Can't let 'mom' keep feeding an eighteen-year-old, taller than both his parents."
Suddenly, his father snatched his mother's bag from the kitchen table, unaware of Jessica's protests. He emptied what was inside on the table and grabbed her wallet. Taking all the money he could find, the cold look in Tony's eyes softened, his firm shoulders loosened. He walked toward Jessica and placed an unwanted kiss on her forehead, before walking out.
Xander realized that the same sidewalks coming out of the harsh street were waiting for him again. Same rejection, same letdown, he was used to it. He needed money for his road trip, never thought he needed it to keep living. Never thought there would be life waiting for him once high school was over.
"You can sleep now," his mother said, keeping her voice neutral. But he could hear her accusing voice yell at him, 'Do something. Can't you see how exhausted I am? There's no bright future for you, so start helping the family.'
She dully took a quarter full bottle of beer and sat down on the kitchen table. He watched her with great sadness, picturing her working her ass off to keep the roof over the two big useless wastes of men in her life.
He was reminded of this man – clean-cut, chic, big office and all Cordelia looked for in a man – slapping him with words coming out of his charming mouth, "Sorry, no opening."
Another charming mouth saying, "Sorry, can't accept you until you get a college degree."
A mouth that knew nothing about charming refused, "You're not fit for it."
Fired from Pizza Hut, same went with Burger King, paper boy was also out. Who cared? He thought bitterly, heaving a sigh, shaking his head in sorrow.
Next day, his footsteps dug the burning streets with their constant crawl. The sun peered above his head, its flaming rays bored into his chest. The shops surrounding him were filled with expensive jewelry, their golden spangles danced through the shop front in detestable challenge. Guys would skip these shops as they walked with their girlfriends holding their arms, reminding him of his loneliness.
He leaned his back on the wall, gazing at the passing figures with seething eyes. He looked away when he spotted a girl from his school with her boyfriend, pointing at a fancy dress in one of the shops, telling him that she would buy it for the Prom. That reminded him of his friends, all leaving for college, all with significant others, all happy and content.
He glued himself to the wall, alone, cast-off. The air around him was still without a dream, days came and went quietly. His mother was slaving at the drive-in and his father was passed out on their living room couch.
He glued himself more to the wall, giving his rumbled, dirty clothes one last look, before he held out his hand, mortified. He felt the volcanoes inside him burst. His fingers didn't dare to lose the fist, until he forced them with hesitation. No one paid attention to his withered pose, his extended hand going further away from his body. His head hung in shame as he waited.
The End.