The Night My Mom Died

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The lights flashing over my closed eyelids didn't make me hesitate to sit straight up. My eyes blinked awake as I looked around the dark room, and I remembered I wasn't a kid, and the cops weren't at my house to take me for shooting my dad. It had only been a storm brewing outside. As I rid myself of the sweat-soaked shirt, I noticed a familiar head of curls wasn't lying next to me. My bare feet hit the wooden floors as I searched for my girl.

There wasn't a beam of light illuminating the hallway, so I didn't check the bathroom. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the acceleration of my heart started to pound with fear. As I hurried into the living room, my eyes were on high alert, but when I didn't see her sitting on the couch, I felt the last breath of air leave my lungs.

She wouldn't leave without telling me, right? Bo wouldn't slip out in the middle of the night. She wouldn't dare walk alone in the dark. Unless someone came here to get here, I couldn't imagine why she would leave. As I moved toward the end table to grab my keys, I snatched my hoodie from the couch.

It wasn't until I saw a bright light coming from the kitchen that I stopped. When I rounded the corner, I found the doors to my refrigerator open. My back leaned against the counter as my eyes followed up a pair of soft brown legs glowing in the shitty kitchen appliance light. Soft hums left her lips as she moved things around. It was as if she were searching for something specific.

When she grabbed the doors to shut them, I finally saw my curly-haired standing in my t-shirt. A silver spoon was pushed in between her lips as she held a large bucket of ice cream in her hand. The corner of my lips tugged upward at the oblivious girl; she hadn't realized I was watching her and how her hips moved back and forth as she ate her sweet treat.

Her curls whipped backward as she turned to see me, and the spoon fell from her lips as she let out a screech. My arms crossed over one another as I smirked at the woman who snuck off into my kitchen in the middle of the night to eat ice cream, and I wondered how I got so lucky? She furrowed her eyebrows as she slid the bucket onto the counter.

"So, I wondered why half of my ice cream was gone," I cleared my throat. "How is it that I never touched it, but some was missing? It turns out my curly-haired girl was sneaking off to the kitchen in the middle of the night to take it for herself."

When something dropped behind her, my amused gaze turned into a confused one. She harshly gulped as she looked for an exit. I peered down at the ground to see my bag of Sour Patch Kids that I swore I hid well enough for her not to find. Now I realize Bo is capable of so many things like scouting out hidden snacks.

My finger pointed toward the bag. "What is that?"

Her head moved back and forth. "Nothing."

"Are those my Sour Patch Kids?"

Her lips parted. "I don't know what you are talking about."

"Bo," I warned as I slowly moved toward the girl backing away from me. "Are you lying to me?"

"Me?" She pointed at herself. "Never."

I couldn't fight the smile on my lips. "How often are you sneaking to my kitchen?"

Her shoulders shrugged. "That is confidential."

My hands shot out in front of me, snatching the curly-haired girl. She let out a burst of laughter as I pulled her into my chest. My face dug into her neck as my fingertips pressed into her waist, tickling her until she couldn't breathe. Her body jolted as she threw herself further into me. Chuckles left my lips as I surrounded myself with the happiness that is Boston Bennett.

"I am sorry!" She gasped. "I am sorry!"

"That doesn't restore all of my favorite snacks you have eaten," I kissed her neck. "Now, does it?"

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