[ IP ] I 'm Done As Promised < 3 Mom [ possible NSFW ]

**DARK** 
 
 Right after band practice Marcus rode his bike back home, hurried upstairs and locked the door behind him. 
 Meanwhile downstairs his father, or `` Paul'', as Marcus used to call him, was skimming bills; his mother, respectively Martha, playfully pacing from one side of the kitchen to the other. 
 Done with his careful calculations, Paul slapped the last bill to the table and snuck behind Martha, wrapping his loving arms around her whilst taking in a the hearty smell of stew in the pot. Martha turned around and slid her soft palms along Paul's scruffy face, gently running her fingers across his face while he kissed her. 
 She smiled and said, `` Honey, the boy has n't brought his grades home yet.'' 
 Her smile vanished and was quickly replaced with a dark expression of concern. 
 `` Do you think he will fail again?'' she asked. 
 Paul let out a worried breath. `` You cook. I'll go...'' 
 He steered his glance onto the floor, ``... talk to him.'' 
 `` Talk to him,'' Martha repeated as she sighed. 
 Paul shook his head as he caressed Martha's cheek. `` The boy just needs a little pep talk by his father. He's smart, do n't worry.'' 
 Martha made herself smile, unclear of whether she believed in it or not. 
 
 
 Upstairs Marcus was chatting on his phone. 
 The rustling of the doorknob startled him, causing the phone to fly over a set of untidy sheets onto the pillow. 
 `` Marc? Would you open the door, please?'' Paul asked from the other side. 
 Marcus slid open the window, snagged his phone and climbed out of his room. He keenly pressed forward, quickly pacing away from his house and into an entirely different neighbourhood. 
 
 
 Late evening, twenty unanswered calls by `` mum & dad'' later. An adolescent man kicked a can off the pavement as Marcus closed in. 
 `` Hey,'' Marcus said. 
 The adolescent and the group of peers surrounding him greeted Marcus with a nod. 
 One of them stepped out of the circle they had formed when they were talking and approached Marcus. 
 `` Aye, Marcus, man. What's up?'' 
 Marcus smiled and fist-bumped him. 
 `` Ey Eric, Not much, not much. They're after me at home, father's gon na kill me,'' he said, laughing. 
 `` Psh, you're sick my man,'' Eric responded in his typical, lazy tone. 
 A while in, the group dissolved and left Eric and Marcus sitting alone on the edge of the sidewalk. 
 `` Ey you should try this,'' Eric said, carefully turning a sly gaze towards Marcus. 
 `` What this?'' Marcus curiously inquired with his eyes set on Eric's hand. 
 Eric slowly lifted his hand out of his pocket and quickly made the small package disappear in Marcus' jacket pocket. 
 `` Try,'' he said. `` Just - eat it, man.'' 
 Marcus got up, looked left and right and quickly walked off behind one of the big grey buildings that decorated the dull landscape. 
 He anxiously unwrapped the tinfoil like an innocent small child would open his christmas presents. He swiftly examined the brownish dry mushrooms and immediately chewed and swallowed them like there was no tomorrow. 
 
 `` Ey, alright? Good stuff, ugly taste,'' Eric said as he saw Marcus reappearing from behind the big grey building. 
 Marcus smiled as he dragged his feet onward towards Eric. 
 `` Fink it's cold, ey. Let's go somewhere better, ey man?'' Eric suggested. 
 Marcus took a deep breath, remembering his mother and father sitting at home, worrying, wishing nothing than for him to get his shit together. 
 `` Mh do n't know man, you sure?'' 
 ``'Course man. I got a friend who's got a sick apartment right around the corner.'' 
 Marcus tentatively came to agreement with Eric's plan and followed him. The warm morning sun had long faded and left the door open to a cold breeze that took over the streets. One breezy cold gust of wind later they had entered another one of those bulky grey project buildings. 
 They hurried up the stairway and stopped only when Eric had reached his destination. 
 `` Here,'' he said pointing at a door. He knocked and an old, perhaps 40-year old, man opened. 
 `` Ah, Eric,'' the man said with a big grin on his face. `` Come in my friend, come in. And you, too, boy,'' he added. 
 The boys entered, leaving there jackets by an improvised coat hanger in the hallway. The apartment was reeking of sweat and incense. 
 `` That's Morris,'' Eric said to Marcus as they sat down on the couch - the only furniture in the entire living room. 
 Morris sat down next to the boys and offered them something to drink, to which Marcus expressed his polite refusal. 
 Eric turned to Marcus and drew a confused grimace. 
 `` Ey Morris, ey, play some music, alright?'' 
 Morris nodded with a slight grin and put on some music on his computer. He quickly got back up again and disappeared in the kitchen for what seemed to be quite some time. 
 Marcus' eyes curiously scrolled left and right, his mind not able to comprehend how someone could live in that kind of a hole-in-the-wall. He started feeling... different. 
 His mind began wandering off, promptly bringing strong images to his thoughts. The vivid visuals soon carried on to be his father, old, troubled Paul. 
 `` Dad,'' Marcus thought in despair. He shook his head in surprise of his own thoughts. 
 `` This stuff's weird,'' he whispered to Eric. 
 `` Ey, it's cool man. Morris knows, man, he gave it to me, chill,'' Eric said. 
 Marcus took a deep breath as he absorbed the chaos in the small apartment. He could see his father and he could feel his father talking to him without using a single word. 
 He could n't explain it but in his mind his father's worried eyes told him that this was how he was going to end up if he did n't change his ways. Shaken by this sudden realisation Marcus entire body gave in to a sudden jolt. 
 `` Ey, chill, chill man,'' Eric said in a cold tone. 
 
 `` Okay guys,'' Morris said as he walked in with two glasses in his hands. `` Enjoy.'' 
 He had a big smile on his face as he handed the glasses to Marcus and Eric. Eric's glass was filled with what seemed to be a blend of cheap vodka and energy drink. Marcus' was purely transparent. Marcus leaned his head towards the drink and smelled it. 
 `` Water,'' Morris explained. `` Just plain water. I respect that you do n't drink, big man.'' 
 Eric chuckled, then broke into a short fit of laughter. 
 `` A'ight, ey man,'cheers'!'' he said, mocking Marcus, and broke into even more laughter. 
 Marcus smirked. `` Fuck off, mate,'' he said and took a sip of his water. 
 He felt light, and heavy. It was an indescribable feeling. He got up and moved around the apartment. Suddenly everything seemed beautiful. All the papers lying on the ground, the tobacco that was chaotically laid out on the little wooden table, the one or two dirty plates. 
 `` This is amazing,'' Marcus said. 
 Morris leaned over to Eric and whispered something into his ear. 
 He felt as if to say `` fuck you guys, no secrets from me,'' but his ignorance to who and how Morris was advised him to watch his tongue. 
 
 An hour later Marcus was silently sitting by the couch, deeply entranced, and staring at the wall. All the time, just the wall. Everything else seemed to fade into double vision. 
 `` I- I do-dun fill so well, eh,'' Marcus struggled to say. 
 He turned his gaze to Eric who was packing up. 
 `` I'll be back in five, ok? Ey do n't vomit in Morris' apartment, all right. Bye.'' 
 For a moment Marcus felt betrayed by his friend to be left alone by his friend. But then again, his barely functioning mind explained to itself - `` everything's all right.'' 
 Marcus smiled numbly as he laid back on the couch's backrest. 
 Morris' eyes penetrated Marcus' and did n't wander for even a second. He started asking questions, many questions. Questions Marcus did n't consciously grasp but still answered to. 
 `` When was your first time?'' Morris asked as he got up. 
 `` I dun no man, I think I smoked pot when I was like eh, mh, eh...'' Marcus fought a tight war with his tongue to roll out the last words to complete his sentence. `` Thirteen, eh.'' 
 His field of vision slowly narrowed significantly. Morris gestalt walked in and out of his field of vision, his smile constantly creeping into his perception. 
 `` And with a man?'' Morris asked, taking off his pants. 
 `` I.. have n't... I dun.. no...'' Marcus mumbled. 
 All he could see was the wall. From every direction just the wall. No thoughts, just the wall. His mouth made grunting noises, but he was just the wall. Nothing else. In his mind he saw the phallus, a very unusual symbol for his young boyish mind. And yet, it did n't leave him alone. He saw as it was moving, in a very animalistic thrusting motion, not leaving him alone. Once in a while the disturbing image faded to his own tears rolling down his cheeks. His crying more and more brought him back to what was happening right there, in the room. 
 He opened his eyes and was sitting on a chair in the hallway. He was crying. What had happened? He held just an idea of it in his mind. 
 `` I'll... go home...'' he said. 
 Morris nodded. 
 
 
 With sloppy steps the boy carried himself for miles until home. He entered the house to find his mother sitting by the kitchen table, anxiously awaiting his arrival. 
 `` Are you ok?'' she asked, her face overran by tears. 
 Marcus' lower lip was trembling, but he nodded. He silently walked up into his room, giving a short look back when he reached his room. 
 `` Where's dad?'' he asked, trying to control the shaking in his voice. 
 `` He's sleeping, honey,'' his mother replied in a worried tone. 
 Marcus dragged himself into bed and closed his eyes - but he was far too awake inside to do anything. 
 His entire being was trembling. If there was a soul then he had found it inside and it was bleeding and broken, and breaking, over and over again. 
 His mother opened the door and slid into bed behind him, hugging him like she used to when he was little. She bit her lip as a tear rolled down her face. Marcus felt cold and he was subtly shaking under her embrace.
