{Parker Cannon} district three | finished

{ P A R K E R  C A N N O N }



Name: Parker Cannon

I watched him grow. He was once a hairless, toothless infant cradled in my arms. He didn't have many wants, just to be loved. And that stands true to this day. I watched him grow. A year later he learned to walk, getting into every possible thing he could. I was always terrified that he'd run from me as soon as he could, leaving me all alone. Thin strands of brown hair were just starting to sprout up from his scalp. He almost had all his teeth by this point, always chewing on his favorite toy, a plush bumblebee we nicknamed, "BB". I watched him grow. Time flew by before my eyes and he was four, head full of thick, chestnut hair. His eyes, bluer than the sky itself. He'd lost his one of his two front teeth and he was oh, so proud. He still had his baby fat that chunked up his arms, legs and cheeks. He'd look up and smile at me with his missing tooth and chunky grin and say, "I love you, mommy." This is the last memory I have of him where he still knew who I was. 

Now I watch him from afar. I still watch him grow, just quietly. Now he's almost a man. Everything about him is like his father. He's short for a boy, 5'7'' I think. His nose is a tad bulbous-y, but that was something I absolutely loved about his father. His eyes, like almonds and still as blue as ever. His eyebrows have grown to be extra thick, but it shapes his face well. His lips are thin and take on a shade of pink. He seems to have a tad of baby fat still on him because he still looks so young and innocent. But I suppose he will always look young and innocent to me. He's a sharp dresser, always keeping up with the latest district trends. There's so much character and personality in his face, I knew he was always meant to be funny and kind. Always meant to be a good person. He was always meant to be everything that I couldn't be.

Personality:

When Parker was fourteen, I got a job at the academy as a cleaning lady; cleaning hallways, classrooms and bathrooms. It was humiliating and dehumanizing but I just wanted to know him so bad I would have done anything. While sweeping floors and taking out trash, I'd always make a point to be near him. I'd listen in on his conversations and always be nearby if I ever heard anyone say his name. He never once made eye contact with me, but I feel it was better off that way. He was funny kid, so damn funny. I'd listen to him tell jokes to his friends in the hallways and try so hard to not laugh, so he wouldn't know I was listening. He had a sarcastic, dry sense of humor but somehow found a way to make his jokes relatable. He was caring, always lending a helping hand to a friend in need. He was wise, always gave the greatest advice to anyone who asked. He was smart, tutoring other children and always making exceptional grades. He was doing great. He was living his life just fine without me. He didn't need me.

My boy was quite talented. Occasionally I'd see him sitting outside of the academy, singing and playing guitar, surrounded by friends as they sang along. I don't know where he got this talent from because neither his father nor myself had any sort of musical talent. But there it was, living in him and likely the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I noticed he liked to paint, as well. I could never get a good look at any of his work but sometimes I'd see him sitting alone, drawing or painting in a sketch book. He seemed so engulfed in his work, like while he'd paint or draw, nothing could disturb him. He was in his own little world and nothing could touch him.

After weeks of watching him any chance I could, I came to realize that his life wasn't as perfect as it had seemed. I'd watch helplessly as time and time again some of his so-called friends would take advantage of how caring he was. I noticed Parker had become quite the hopeless romantic, just like his father once was. But every girl he took interest in only seemed to act interested in him to get answers on tests, money or a free meal. Parker was so blinded by love, or lust that he never questioned a girls motives. Time and time again, I'd watch my son sit, heartbroken, after every girl left once they got what they wanted from him. So badly, I wanted to sit next to him and hold him. Just like when he was a baby, just hold him in my arms as he cries, kiss his forehead and make everything better.

History:

    He was mine. He was my boy. Our life was perfect, together as a family. It was everything I could have wanted. When his father and I met Parker for the first time, the day he was born, we looked at each other and neither of us had to say it, we knew our life was complete. We spent the first four years of Parkers life in complete harmony. When I look back on it, it was paradise. Parkers father, Thomas, would leave for work every morning and I'd stay home cooking and cleaning and embracing my role as a mother and a wife. Thomas would come home right on time for dinner and we'd sit around the table eating and talking about our day. Parker would be read a bedtime story every night, be tucked in with kisses from mommy and daddy and the rest of the night I would spend cuddling with Thomas and realize how perfect our lives were. I am so lucky, I'd think every night before bed.

    There was no warning. The day everything changed started just like any other. I fed my boys breakfast and kissed Thomas goodbye as he left for work. I cleaned and prepared dinner for that night and played games with Parker while we waited for Thomas to arrive home. The hour that he normally got home came and went and I didn't think twice about it, assuming his shift at the factory ran late. Another hour passed and dinner was cold, I went ahead and fed Parker because it was getting close to his bedtime. Then another hour flew by and I started to feel a heaviness in my chest. I kept my composure as I read Parker a bedtime story and tucked him in. I sat on our couch, the first piece of furniture we ever bought together, as another hour passed. The feeling in my chest got heavier and heavier until I heard a quiet knock on our wooden front door. The sound echoed through my head as I anxiously answered it, expecting to find Thomas with some sort of explanation. Instead I find Gregory, Thomas' closest friend and coworker, staring into my soul with these sullen eyes and I already know. I manage to hear Gregory say, "There was an accident-" before my mind just shut everything out. My vision blurred with tears, I threw myself about the house, knocking things off shelves and sobbing hysterically. Gregory tried to calm me, holding me as I fell to the floor, my eyes burning with tears of misery and heartbreak. The last memory I have of that night is hearing Parker crying from the other room, woken by all the commotion I was causing, then everything goes black.


The following months are a blur to me, even now. The passing of Parker's father left me in pieces. Everyday I'd cry, Parker would tug on my sleeve and tell me he loves me and that we would be okay. Boy, he was wise for his age but he couldn't have understood the weight of the situation. I was so blinded by misery that there was absolutely nothing anyone could do or say to make anything any better. I'd shove Parker off and tell him to go play, please, please just let mommy be. There was no coping with this kind of pain, at least that was my mindset. I turned to alcohol, morphling, anything I could get my hands on to drown out this misery. The house was no longer clean, meals were no longer cooked, no more bath time, no more bedtime stories, no more goodnight kisses. I spent my days and nights on that couch, eyes closed, just wishing for death. Parker's weight withered before my eyes, he grew dirty, always looked tired and hadn't had a bath or change of clothes in weeks. The only source of food he had was whatever he could reach out of the cupboards that didn't require cooking. Oh, how I wish things were different. If I could have been strong, Parker would still be with me. I couldn't blame Gregory. How could I? When he came to check on how we were doing, it only made sense that he took Parker from me. He yelled, calling me unfit, irresponsible, selfish and everything else that I knew to be true. Even as I watched with my own eyes as Gregory packed up Parker's things and carried him out of our once perfect home, I couldn't bring myself to move, protest, anything.


I hadn't gotten myself together until Parker was ten, even then there were still cracks. I went to visit Gregory at work to try to convince him to let me see Parker. I was unsuccessful, but I still tried every few weeks to convince Gregory that I was better. In reality, I still consumed a fair share of alcohol and abused morphling, but no where near as much as I used to and either way, he didn't need to know. But I could feel that somehow he knew anyway because every time I'd beg and plead for him to let me see Parker, he'd just shake his head and leave me in silence. Working at the academy was the only opportunity I had to see Parker, but even then it just wasn't enough. Parker didn't know who I was anymore. I don't know if it was the age that he was taken or maybe my abuse traumatized him and he blocked those memories out but I just wanted so badly to just once tell him I'm sorry and tell him how much I love him.

He's sixteen now. Where did the time go? Where did my perfect life go? I watched him grow, I saw it all happen but I still won't ever understand what I did to deserve this life. The only happiness I've felt these past twelve years is seeing Parker living his life happily. I often sit and wonder what life would be like if Thomas were still alive. The thought makes me miserable but another dose of morphling takes care of that. I'm laying on that couch, the one Thomas and I bought together, the one I was sitting on moments before I got the news that changed my entire life, the one I laid on, inebriated, as my son was taken from me. A few more doses of morphling and this hell of a life can be over. A few more doses and I can see Thomas again. A few more doses and I can have my perfect life again. Just a few more doses and I-