RP's and thoughts and letters
Larry awoke with a start at the sound of a loud scream. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, listening if he had heard correctly. A cry came from down the hall. He got out of bed and went to his son's room where Sam was crumpled up in his sheets, sweating and crying, as he slept.
“Sammy,” Larry knelt beside his son's bed and tried to wake him. “Come on Sam, you're dreaming. Wake up, buddy.” He shook the boy gently.
“No!” Sam jumped up sharply and put his arms around Larry's neck, his sobs taking over. Larry held onto him.
“Sssh, it's okay. It's all okay.”
“She didn't listen,” Sam sobbed. “I told her not to go, but she didn't listen!”
“It was a dream.”
“No!” Sam pulled away from Larry. “Leave me alone! Get out!”
“Sammy,” Larry said gently. He tried to reach for his son again but Sam kicked his arms.
“I don't want you! Go away! I want my mom! Get me my mom!”
Larry's felt a lump rise in his throat. “I can't.”
“I don't want you! I want Mom! Mom! Mom!” He screamed.
“Stop.” Larry got on the bed and forcefully took Sam in his arms, holding him tight to his chest. “Stop this, Sam.” He kissed the top of his son's head. “Just stop,” he added softly. Sam relaxed against him, still sobbing.
“I want my mom,” Sam muttered into Larry's chest. Larry lay down against the pillow.
“I know you do, son. I miss her, too.”
After the tears had subsided, they both lay on their backs, watching the ceiling. “Why didn't you love her anymore?” Sam asked softly.
“I did,” Larry sighed. “I always loved her.”
“But you left.”
“We had problems. We were better friends than anything else, and we were two friends who created an amazing child.”
“You didn't love her enough to live with her?”
“No, I didn't.”
“Why don't you date now?”
“Sam-”
“It is because of me?”
“No. Not...not like that. I would rather be at home with you than off looking for anything else.”
“That's stupid.”
“Your father is a stupid man,” Larry said quietly.
“When is everything going to be better?”
“We'll get there.” Larry put his hand to Sam's chest and closed his eyes. “We'll get to better in time.” Sam watched his father for a moment, then he too closed his eyes.
Exhausted. It was not a restful night in the Paul household. Doesn't matter, though. Just means we can both sleep the day away. Beats thinking.
I think we're through, Cora and I. That huge messy ball of confusion that was...whatever we were. Confusion or not, though...it was fun while it lasted. I guess I can't expect much more than that. I am going to miss it. And I'll miss her, because whether she likes it or not, I did-I do-consider her a friend. I was only kidding myself by spending time with her. She is young and beautiful and can do a hell of a lot better than messing around with a miserable man like myself.
Dear Mr. Paul,
I am writing in regards to your son, Sam Paul. It's been noticed that his grades are dropping significantly. When Sam transferred in we had high hopes for the bright mind we would meet. If there are problems at home, we would like to address them. If Sam cannot handle the material, we can find alternatives. I think we can both agree that this is not a good situation.
Sam's behavior is also showing to be different than expected. You are aware of the fight he was in a couple weeks back, but the problems seem to remain. He and this other child do not get along and they argue constantly. Sam talks back to the adults and snaps at his classmates.
This school would like to work with you and with Sam in finding a solution to all of this. Please call at your earliest convenience to set up a meeting with his teachers, myself, and the principle.
Thank you,
Shirley Appleton
Guidance Counselor