Halrloprillalar   hal@prillalar.com   http://prillalar.com/

April 29, 2002

RATING: PG13.

FANDOM/SPOILERS: X-Files. S6.

SUMMARY: Sketch of Spender. Reading.

DISTRIBUTION: Archive anywhere. Email forwarding allowed.

DISCLAIMER: CC, 1013, Fox, not me.


I AM NOT YOUR MOTHER, I AM A DOG, SAID THE DOG
by Halrloprillalar - hal@prillalar.com

Jeffrey had the book. It wasn't the same copy, though, with his
name written in the front in faded green ink and a grape Kool-Aid
stain on page five. That had been lost when those bastards trashed
his apartment. When they trashed his life.

But it was the same book. He read it when the pain in his chest got
too bad. He could hear her voice reading the words aloud, coaxing
him to recite along with her. He could see her fingers,
smoke-yellow, pointing out the bird, the dog, turning the pages. He
remembered how terrible she smelled and how much he loved her.

And when the pain got worse, he stopped reading.

Jeffrey made a cup of tea. There wasn't much around to eat, so he
put in extra sugar. He sat down on the couch and the springs
creaked. One of these days, it would break.

Last night, he'd stayed in his room because Alex had someone over,
some alien or spy or trick. Today, Alex was out and there were new
rings on the coffee table, glasses with a sad quarter-inch of
melted ice in them. The bottle of whiskey was still a third full.
Jeffrey drank his tea.

Alex had plans for him, Jeffrey knew, but Jeffrey had plans for
himself first. When he could walk further than across the room
without wanting to sit down, he was off.

First, he'd find his mother. They'd taken her and taken her, but
he'd get her back again and this time, she'd be safe. He'd find a
place for her and she'd be safe forever.

And then he'd find his father and make him pay.

On the corner of the table was an ashtray with six, no, seven butts
spilling out of it. Jeffrey wanted to take the ash and rub it on
his book, so it would smell right again. There was a half-empty
pack of Players, too, and a lighter.

Jeffrey read. "Are you my mother?" He closed his eyes and drank
more tea. Then he shook out a cigarette, lit up, and turned the
page.


F I N I S

Halrloprillalar   hal@prillalar.com   http://prillalar.com/