Bringing Isaiah Home

WE hardly spoke over the next month, I pranced around, giddy and excited.  The spare room was turned into a wonderful childs room and I knew Isaiah would love it..  I had a thing about tradition so I painted his room blue.. made sense to me..

Mrs. KKK did her best to dissuade me, I wouldn't budge, her partner in crime, just didn't bother to speak, he was coming home, less and less, we didn't speak, we didn't eat together, we didn't sleep together.

I picked Isaiah up on a Sunday afternoon.  He gave me a warm hug and I felt my eyes well up.  Mrs. KKK inquired about the other person that occupied a house with me, I told her he was fine, I lied and said he was at home finishing up Isaiah's room.. She gave me a look, I'll just leave it at that.. a look,  b---h.

I stopped at the ice cream shop, that would be dessert after dinner.. I didn't want to get too many sweets, I wanted his diet, his life.. to be good, to be right, I wanted to give him what no one else would or ever did.

HE wasn't home when we arrived.. that was fine, I could focus all my attention on Isaiah. 

We ate, he seemed to like my spaghetti, he enjoyed the ice cream, I held him while we watched a couple of movies then, I got him ready for bed.  I lay him down and just stood there watching him.. he was angelic, he was beautiful, how could someone not love him..  I took my shower and crawled between the sheets.

I felt someone shaking me, I opened my eyes to see HIM standing there scowling at me.. HE pointed his finger and I looked down, there curled up into a little ball was Isaiah...   I picked him up and tucked him into the crook of my arm,  Looking at him I could see HE was not happy.. I shood him away, turned over and fell asleep.

Isaiah had come home..

The End

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