!TW: Abuse, child abuse, mature content, etc. !<

Chapter 1- Mama

Dean stared out across the front yard into the vacant lot at the end of the street. Several kids were running around playing with each other. He wished to join them but his mama had said dinner was almost ready and to not leave the porch. He didn't understand why he wasn't allowed to go play but he always listened to Mama.

The kids squealed and ran around in circles chasing each other. Dean wondered what kind of game they could be playing, maybe tag? He had heard of the games, tag, hide and seek, ring around the roses, etcetera. He had always wanted to join in but nobody ever invited him and when he asked Mama to go out she said no.

She said kids would be mean to him because he's different, dumb. She said she loved him because she's his mama but other people wouldn't understand and would punish him worse than she could. He hated her punishments and didn't want to know what was worse than those so he listened. Still he wished for friends.

The front door opened, his Mama's head popping out. She didn't have to say anything he already knew that meant dinner was done so he stood up and followed her silently. As he closed the door behind him he glanced one last time at the kids in the lot and felt his heart sink a little. Maybe one day he could go out there.

He took a seat at the kitchen table and felt his stomach drop, Pork chops. He hated pork chops. It always felt like he was trying to chew through a rubber rope covered in hot sauce because Mama loved her spices. The rest of the meal was perfect, mashed potatoes, black eyed peas, and carrots. He could eat two or three helpings of each of those, easy, but not the pork chop.

“Quit your pouting before I give you a reason to." His mama snapped at him.

She noticed he hadn't immediately dug in and was eyeing the pork chop. She knew he hated them but still made him eat every bite. She said he was a growing boy and needed all his protein and vitamins to be strong and healthy. She also claimed it would make him smarter so one day he might be smart enough for friends.

He picked up his knife and fork cutting his pork chop into bite sized pieces. Slowly he started chewing his way through it, pausing between bites to take a sip of milk or eat a bite of one of his sides. He always tried to eat the pork chops first so he could enjoy the rest without worry.

Mama finished first and whisked her dishes away to the sink. She turned back to stare at his half eaten plate then shook her head while clicking her tongue.

"When you're done playing games you can wash up the dishes and get ready for bed." She snarled.

She turned to walk out then paused, “You have 15 minutes or you'll spend tomorrow morning in the den." A small smile spread across her face as the color drained from Deans. She left the room without another word.

Dean began shoving food into his mouth and swallowing as quickly as possible. He almost choked twice but used his milk to wash the rubbery meat down his throat. He quickly took his dishes to the sink and scrubbed them along with his mom's and the pots left from dinner.

He had about two minutes once done to get to his room and switch into his night clothes and brush his hair. The whole time his heart beat against his chest and he tried not to panic. He didn't want to spend the morning in the den.

He changed and then stared into the mirror on his dresser. His shoulder length sandy blonde curls were nearly impossible to brush without a shower first. He grabbed the brush yanking it through anyways.

In the distance he heard his mama get up from her spot in the living room and head towards the kitchen. She would check his work there first and then come to tuck him in. He had about 45 seconds now before she made it to his room for bedtime.

Just as she walked into his doorway he set the brush down and turned to greet her with a smile. She silently stared at him and then walked in a circle around him to check him over. She seemed satisfied.

“Bed, now." She demanded. He immediately climbed into his bed as she tucked the sheets and blanket in around him. She leaned down and brushed her fingers through his hair, messing it up again.

“I love you, munchkins. Bunches and bunches. Sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite." She purred lovingly. She kissed his forehead and gave him a soft smile.

He smiled back, “I love you too, Mama. Bunches and bunches. Hope your dreams are as sweet as you are to me."

She straightened back up still smiling, then turned the light off while leaving the room. This was a typical routine. The same thing every single night as long as Dean could remember. Nothing changed unless he got in trouble.

He laid back and stared at his ceiling in the dark. Sometimes he fell asleep instantly. Other times he laid awake just listening to the sounds of the house around him, and the storms.

The storms came nightly, after dark. Loud rain, wind, and thunder. He would close his eyes and listen, it was calming and he felt safe in his bed. It was like a lullaby eventually putting him to sleep.

Tonight was no exception. As the light faded into night, the storm came on slowly. The rain pattered against the roof and his window. The wind howled quietly in the background while the thunder rumbled deeply in the sky above.

Deans eyes shut and he breathed easy. He felt safe and comfortable in his bed, warm and dry. Nothing could get him here especially with his mama just a few rooms down in the living room again. Sleep came on fierce and suddenly, sending Dean into the dream world.

‘WACK…BAM!’

“You stupid piece of shit! Blow your load for fuck sake! I've never had any complaints before."

Dean awoke suddenly to the sounds of his mother beating on something and yelling. For a moment he worried it was a man. He hadn't seen one in awhile but they would come at night to see his mother. Many times he had been awakened to their slaps, screams, and odd noises. He didn't understand but the one time he tried to ask, Mama said to mind his business or else.

Dean wasn't allowed out of bed until Mama came to get him, so he lay there listening to her angry struggle. It grew quiet after a few minutes, Dean thought maybe it was a man now on his way out after all. He had his eyes closed so he didn't notice his doorway grow slightly darker.

" Donald Dean! Get up this minute and fix the ice box!” Her voice rang out with a sharpness that could put a knife to shame. It echoed around the room, chilling Dean to the bone as he heard his first and middle name spoken, that meant trouble was coming.

He shot up from bed and fast walked, because no running in the house, to the living room where his mother had been. The air conditioner, ice box as Mama called it, sat in the window next to the lounge chair. It was her favorite spot in the entire house and the space around it was cluttered with her belongings, clothes, pills, drinks, books, everything she found important to be within arms reach of her.

The motor in it was still loudly roaring but as Dean came up on it, he realized it was not blowing air at all. He turned it off and back on, unplugged it and replugged it up. He hit it like his mama had. Under his breath he cursed it for doing this to him. If he didn't fix it Mama would surely fix him and he was scared of that.

Finally his last option became the only one left. The outside portion must be blocked off. It was still dark out and storming though so he couldn't go out and clear it. Behind him his mama sat tapping her foot impatiently and commenting on how hot it was. He turned and explained to her what he thought he needed to do to fix it, hoping she would give him some grace until morning.

She threw a newspaper at him, which he caught and stared at unsure of what it was for. She stood up in front of him and turned around. “Unbutton my dress, Donald."

He gently unhooked the buttons and watched as she pulled the 50s styled dress down and off her body. Underneath she wore a white bra and skin colored stockings that came up to her thighs. No underwear, instead she had a mound of dark hair to hide her.

She laid back on the lounge and stared up at him waiting. He realized she expected him to fan her until morning, however long that might be. He wasted no time and began to fan her. He knew he had to do whatever Mama wanted him to, even if he didn't want to. There was no arguing or fighting Mama, she was the boss here.

Luckily it was only 3 hours until daylight. As soon as the sun came up Dean tossed down the paper, fast walked to the front door, then sprinted around to the back of the unit. He was right, the storm had blown leaves and grass into the back of the fan. It was caked in debris. He grabbed the porch broom and quickly set to work clearing it.

Once it looked clean he went back inside and checked it. The cool air felt nice against his face and hands. Mama still laid on the chair uncovered, watching him lazily.

“Oh what a rough night we had Dean! Of course you got some sleep where I didn't at all. Surely you can handle the house chores, laundry-” She eyes his dirty pajamas that he had forgotten to change out of. "And preparing the steaks for dinner tonight while I get a bit of a nap?”

Though framed as a question Dean knew it wasn't one. It was a demand and he had no choice. He nodded at her, then turned and left the living room. He made his way back to his room where he changed into day clothes, Mama had them laid out already, and made up his bed.

He threw his clothes along with his mother's into the washer then set it to soak like she had shown him before. They needed to soak for an hour then they could be washed, dried, and put away. Laundry was easy but he had trouble remembering to reset it to wash after the hour. This led to clothes getting soaked too long and fading or breaking which landed him in trouble.

After the washer was set he headed for the kitchen where more dishes had mysteriously appeared since the night before. He washed and dried them, putting them away. He wiped down the counters, the table, the stove, the fridge, and the microwave oven. Then he swept and mopped the floors.

When he mopped he mopped himself out the front door so he could work on the outside chores while the floor dried. He hauled several trash bags his mother had piled by the door out to the dumpster. Dean wondered why he didn't just take the trash out daily but his mother insisted this was better because he would only have to go to the dumpster once a week. The dumpster was at the end of the street and he had to make several trips back and forth, he didn't understand but didn't argue either.

After his trash run was done he planned to sweep the porch. At first he couldn't find the broom and then he realized he left it by the ice box. As he walked around he noticed some kids playing a few doors down. One kid was in his neighbor's yard, squatting near the bushes by the back porch.

Dean watched as the other kids looked around trying to find the boy. He wanted to join them so badly. He glanced back at his house wondering if he could go say hi without his mama finding out. She was asleep so there was no way she would know.

He dropped the broom and walked over to the boy. Startled, he stood up quickly, “Oh sorry! I was just hiding from my friends." The boy sputtered as if he had been caught in trouble.

“It's fine, I just wanted to say hi. My name is Dean. Who are you?" Dean replied and held out his hand for a handshake. The boy stared at him hesitantly, then softened and took his hand.

“I'm Freddy, it's nice to meet you Dean."

“I see you guys playing all the time. I wish I could join y'all. My mama doesn't let me around strangers though." Dean said, shuffling his feet.

Freddy stared back at him seemingly confused then said, “Yeah, my mom's like that too but then she met my friends." He paused, then asked, “Do you really want to play with us?"

Dean nodded vigorously, “Yes, I've never had friends to play with! Like I said, mama's a little strict with me."

“How come you can talk to me right now?" Freddy asked curiously.

“She's actually napping and I had to do outside chores and I saw you so I came over to say hi really quickly. If she catches me I'll get in trouble." Dean glanced back at his house, suddenly feeling anxious. She could wake up at any minute and he wouldn't know it.

“Maybe you can sneak out the next time she takes a nap, meet us at the vacant lot over there. That's usually where we are, we just came over here today because Mike bet me ten dollars he could find my secret hiding spot." Freddy pointed out where they had played the night before when Dean was watching them.

Dean looked up and saw a boy and girl searching the tree line behind the houses. They were inching their way down to where Dean and Freddy were. “Get down or they'll find you. I've got to go but I'll see you later maybe. Good luck!"

Dean walked back over to the broom and swept the porch. He watched the kids search for about 20 minutes before yelling that Freddy won the bet. They quickly switched back to the vacant lot where a furious game of tag broke out. Dean could hear the screams and laughter from his porch. He hoped his voice would soon join theirs in the fun. He needed to figure out a way to play too.

Finally he went back inside and set the washer, it was definitely longer than an hour but hopefully nothing would be harmed by it. He silently kicked himself for not remembering sooner. He set the steaks out, bathing them in his mother's homemade marinade. His list was pretty much completed, besides drying and putting away the laundry so now he had nothing to do but wonder about the house like a ghost.

He drifted to his bedroom, eyeing his books. He had read them all a dozen times or more now. He then drifted towards the den, peaking in at the bare room before quickly moving on. He didn't even want to think about it.

He peaked in at his mama, still sleeping on the lounge. She had dropped a blanket across herself at some point. The window unit groaned in the silence of the room.

Dean was sitting at the kitchen table, bored, after putting the laundry away, when Mama came in from her nap. He was abstinently staring out the window across the backyard at the treeline, lost in thought about the boy he had met. He didn't hear her enter until she smacked her hand against the table, “Anyone home Dean?" She asked with a smirk.

Dean sat up straight and shook his head before turning his full attention into her. She stood directly beside him and her back to him. " Fix my hooks, my dear.” She said.

There were 6 of them on this dress. The top two were easy, three and four were a struggle, but five and six were impossible. He tried hard but neither would get close to hooking.

“It's fine! I'm just fat. That's what happens when you're a single mother with such a useless child!" She finally snapped and turned to face him.

Dean recoiled at the hate in her voice. He always felt bad that his mama was alone and stuck with him. He knew he wasn't much of a son, yet she let him be because she loved him. He didn't deserve to be loved, that much was true.

“You're not fat Mama! You're beautiful! I must have messed up the laundry, the dress just shrunk, that's all!" He hadn't washed this dress today, but he hoped she wouldn't notice.

“You forget them soaking again, Donald?" She asked, using a mocking tone.

“I'm so sorry Mama, I got distracted." Dean wailed.

“Distracted by what?" She demanded to know.

Dean swallowed, tears rolling down his face now. He was scared. He didn't want to be punished. He didn't want her to lock him in the den.

"I watched the kids play. I was doing my outside chores and watched them play hide and seek.”

Dean decided to tell the truth, but only what she really needed to know. He really had been distracted watching them. There was no point in making things worse by admitting he had talked to one, at least not yet.

“DONALD DEAN BURKHARTS You know better! You can't be watching those kids play! You can't go play either! This just proves my point! You're too dumb to listen to your own mama! How do you think you can possibly make friends to play with if you can't even do that right?!" Mama began to pace as she ranted raising her hand a few times as if ready to smack him.

Dean sat as still as possible wishing he could disappear. He watched her pace, tears streaming down his face. His heart beat fast in his chest, fluttering Everytime her hand raised. He could hear his own blood pounding in his ears as she spoke. He prayed she would calm down.

“I don't know what else to do to get through to you Donald Dean! I'm at my wits end! Now my favorite dress is ruined to boot! This is unacceptable. -" She paused after her last words then muttered again, “This is unacceptable."

Her pace stopped at the kitchen sink where she appeared to stare out the window. Dean continued to sit still in his chair, watching, waiting, and praying. Slowly she turned back towards him.

“Go. To. Your. Room." She said calmly, pausing at each word.

Deans heart dropped in his chest and for a brief moment it felt like it had stopped beating completely. Then it started back pumping faster than before. He rose from his chair and walked to his bedroom. It was in his best interest to listen and do as she said, there was still a small chance in his favor that this wouldn't end up in the den.

Dean sat on his bed, placing his hands under his legs to stop their shaking. The house was quiet, he could still hear the groans of the ice box pumping it's cool air through the living room. He could even hear some birds chirping outside his window. Yet he couldn't hear a sound from the kitchen where his mama was, which terrified him.