It's a Little Sad (Pt. 1)

Brenda left Will with a kid that he never wanted and a hole in his heart he couldn't always bear. Though in all honesty, Will loved his son. Sometimes, though anger would never fix the fact that Brenda was now stripping in the great mead hall in the sky, Will still felt an all-too-familiar boiling frustration in the pit of his stomach. Brenda had successfully stopped taking birth control, and for six months he trusted that they were safe from what he perceived to be unwanted pregnancy. He, back when Brenda was more than a memory, often regretted trusting her with the only form of birth control they had decided to use, but for whatever reason, Brenda wanted to bring a child in to their little world. Will couldn't hold the baby once it was born, an utter disgust over his face as he watched Brenda dangle the son she called "Hayden" in front of his tightly closed fists. He had long ago agreed to help with the new baby when Brenda refused to abort, but if anything, it came from his love for her, rather than a desire to actually be a father to a child. Brenda was his life. She left him with Hayden when she died. Raising Hayden became a chore, though he left it to Brenda most of the time. With an honest heart, he knew it probably wasn't the best for his son to be raised mostly by Brenda. For a while, during his late toddler years, Hayden affectionally referred to his father by his first name. Will preferred this. Brenda hated it. She made it a point to call her husband by the title of "Dad" until Will grew inadequate. Unfortunately, inadequacy did nothing to motivate him to be a father. Hayden grew up attached to his mother. Will was the bank that paid for his clothes and school supplies. For a while, this appeased Brenda. At least he was trying. Maybe one day, she would think to herself, he'll come around and be a father. She left so suddenly, so surprisingly. Will didn't want to stop his life simply because she didn't have hers anymore, though the world around him said he should stop. Will wouldn't quit. He couldn't just quit, not now. Brenda died when Hayden was seven. The child had no way of seeing her death coming, but all at once, the only thing in his life was a man who couldn't handle being called "Dad" let alone raising him the rest of his childhood. Will, though deep in despair, tried a little to improve Hayden's life. He bought him things, things of great value, things of unimaginable worth. Will honestly didn't know what else to do. He didn't want his son, but somehow a morality grew within him. He couldn't just abandon Hayden. In the least, it was the last thing that Brenda hadn't ruined before she went. The night she died stayed clear in his head. It started just as any other night did for the little apartment. In the strangest sense, that had been the most comforting part of it all. Will took what little comfort he could in knowing that at least Brenda died doing what she loved, participating in her nightly routine. The shivers had set in not long after sunset, though it seemed they usually came later than that. Without hesitation, Brenda put Hayden to bed earlier than usual. She kissed his forehead and said she's always be there, an oddly-phrased admission of love, though Hayden never thought much of it until after the night had ended and the one thing in his world was over. Will smiled as Brenda closed Hayden's bedroom door and snuck into their master bathroom. This was the part Will remembered the most. A needle to the ankle started it. Brenda laughed as she pressed the needle's plunger down, a spine-tingling sensation developing as she slapped the skin around the needle's prick. Will followed suit and not long after, the shivers went away. Brightness filled his eyes. A dark laughter billowed out of his throat. He held her hand, the sensations flowing through his body like a stampede that ran from his fast-beating heart, straight through his fingertips, and into her skin. Brenda sent the euphoria back, her hands squeezing his as a state of pure ecstasy washed over their tired bodies. Will didn't remember when she took the second needle. He just suddenly knew that she had taken a second. He had vague memories of the third one, but only because it had been the last one she took before her body collapsed to the floor and her skin turned blue. It took him a moment to notice her lifelessness, the fact that her energy no longer sent him sensations. She was dead. He couldn't do anything about it now. At least he had his heroin euphoria. Nothing mattered as long as he was high. Brenda's body laid across the master bedroom floor. Brenda had found her way into the world where parties never ended, and every day felt like a drug, and thus, things in the living world had to be treated with much different care. Will touched her skin. No electricity shot into him, no euphoric energies, no nothing. He held his breath and felt an entirely inappropriate giggle reach out of his lips. He ran his hands through her hair, reaching everywhere over her body and searching for an energy within her. There was a sound of the house creaking. Will stood. He turned to the door, which swung around in his blurred vision. He opened it. With a staggering pace, Will opened the door to his son's bedroom. He rushed to Hayden's side. His hands hovered above the sleeping child. The energies felt like lightning across his skin. Will picked up Hayden and held him close in his arms, a sad laughter echoing from Will's lips as the addictive energy leaked into his body.