Connor (Operation Justice)

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Ok so I haven't written anything in ages. I haven't been on YWS in ages. However, you may tear this to shreds anyhow. By the way, I rated this 16+ only because of the ending with swearing.

How many times does a fifteen year old guy have to tell his mother that he’s old enough to make his own plate of food? The sweet smell of mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, pot roast, and corn on the cob filled the air and I wasn’t just going to sit at the table as my mother got the goods for me. I didn’t know much about the people who sat at the table with me (except that one had to be who my mom called Alison. Probably a sister) but I knew at least one of them was a good cook. It was either
A. A stout man who probably just went through his midlife crisis
B. A woman who’s neck resembled a giraffe (Aunt Alison?)
C. A little girl with uneven ponytails
D. A guy who my mom described to be “just about my age”
E. None
Like in most households, the mother usually does the cooking which is why I assumed choice B to be correct. You’re probably wondering why choice E is there. It’s for the small percentage of families like mine. Mom doesn’t do the cooking, Dad isn’t alive, and the lazy teenage son doesn’t know how to cook more or less want to do it. So, none. Coming to Aunt Alison’s house was a gift from heaven…at that point. I would soon learn otherwise.
“Mom, I can get my own plate, thank you.” I finally said as she was hovering over the stove with all the deliciously prepared food ready to devour, my plate in her hand. I anxiously got up from the table and snatched the plate from my mom’s dishwashing worn hands. She gave me the look.
I knew the look and I knew I was going to get it. Did that stop me? Obviously not. I smirked and picked up the spoon used to get the macaroni and cheese. “I’m fifteen now. I can do it.” I said, rolling my eyes. Why couldn’t she understand that I needed my independence? Mom lowered her head. She whispered, “You know I only try to be a good mother.”
I could feel the disapproving gazes coming from the eyes of the strangers around me like lasers all over my back. Pew Pew. “Yeah well, you’re failing.” I snorted, dropping a big spoon full of buttered mashed potatoes onto my plate. I paused in getting my food and the four strangers went around me to prepare their plates and walked back to the table in silence. Soon, it was just Mom and I standing up, not eating, and not enjoying ourselves. A lock of fiery red hair fell out of her sloppy ponytail as she wiped her forehead and sighed. She didn’t say anything. The only thing I could hear is the lasers of the strangers’ eyes shooting messages at my mom and me. Single moms are never good parents. Pew Pew. That boy is a problem child. Pew Pew. If his dad was still alive…
“And you know what? You would still fail if Dad was alive.” I spat out. The blood drained from my face when I realized what I had just said. Where did the old Conner go?
“I’m sorry.” My mom muffled under her breath.
I scanned the intruder’s faces. I had already given a horrible first impression. The man didn’t seem to mind or notice as he gulfed down his food. No wonder he was so fat. The woman had a hand over her mouth and tears were at her eyelids. Emotional fool. The little girl was asleep. Lucky duck.
If only I had enough time to analyze the guy who was “about my age” expression. Maybe this book wouldn’t have to be written. Unless destiny found another way. After knowing Jacus, I would say it was probably an evil smirk mixed with keen interest. Maybe I wouldn’t have stepped into the car if I had seen him for real. But, I didn’t. Mom took over focus.
“Go to your room.” She said quietly. Her eyes were red from a hard day’s work.
“Mom, we’re at Aunt Alison’s house. I don’t have a room here.” I said, sighing.
The woman with the giraffe neck burst into tears. “Abi, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was this bad. Maybe if I knew I would have taken Connor or did something…something more to help.” She cried out, hugging my mother.
Mom’s face was expressionless as she whispered, “its fine, Alison. It’s only a mistake. I’m fine. Promise. “
Aunt Alison didn’t respond and motioned the fat man over. “Take her to her room upstairs, Robert. Make sure all is well until I deal with the son and then I can personally take care of Abigail, myself.”
Deal with the son? I figured she meant me. Aunt Alison turned to me with a frown. “Your mother…” she started but I stopped her. “I know. I live with her.” I replied, putting my hands in my pockets.
She opened her mouth as if to say something but then closed it and opened it again. “Well Jacus here is going to a friend’s house tonight and I advise that you go. I need to have a time with Abi…your mother, alone.” She said slowly as if I was some kind of deaf retard.
The boy “just about my age” snorted. “That of course is Jacus” Aunt Alison said, smiling. It was a face smile. I nodded as in to agree to go with him to the “friend’s house”. Aunt Alison nodded and pushed me towards Jacus. “Splendid. Jacus, this is Conner. Conner, this is my son, Jacus.” She said, smiling again. “The car keys are on the hook on the front door, just get it when you’re ready to leave. Have fun you two!” and with that Aunt Alison hurried upstairs.
Car keys. He could drive. This means he has his license. This means he’s at least 16. A year difference…not too old. I put my hands in my pockets and stood there awkwardly. He lifted his head at me in greeting and then immediately turned around and headed for the front door.
“I guess we’re ready to leave?” I said, more to myself than the stranger in front of me. Jacus had an intimidating look to him. Answering questions didn’t seem like his thing. I walked behind him in silence. His hair was ebony and cut in a way that made him look like a girl but the same style that all the actual girls rave about. Emo they called it. I prefer the term “stupid”. His bangs were midnight blue and of course they covered one of his eyes. He wore a checkered hoodie and jeans and last but certainly not least, a pair of checkered Converses.
How original.
Jacus effortlessly slipped the car keys on his finger and headed out the door, leaving me behind. I hurried to catch up and Jacus stopped in his tracks and looked me dead in the eye.
“I just want you to know that this is a party we’re going to. After seeing your performance with your mother, I think your attitude will do you fine so I don’t have to go and save your butt from motherfucking jerks that will be here. Don’t follow me around, use protection, and if the cops show, hide. Now get in the car, don’t touch anything, don’t be nosy or I’ll damn right kill you.”
Give hugs not bombs or whatever that saying says




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Points 2358
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Hmm... This is... interesting. I'm not really sure what to think. Seems almost Fight Clubesque, but in a very good way.

Its too early to tell what the plot will be, or how the title will relate, but so far you've painted a pretty clear definition of all of the characters, which is great.

I am NOT good with grammar or spelling, so I'll see what else I can help with, but I'm not sure what I can say that wouldn't just make this a useless review. My only complaint is that the main viewpoint character is not completely likable, which isn't always a bad thing. My favorite book's main character isn't very likeable, but its important to note the balance between dislike and outright hate. Even for a teenager this guy seems overly rude and just cruel to a mom who is obviously worked to death. He seems to appreciate none of it and only give her spite and hate back. What made me keep reading was how I could tell he was conflicted. It may not have been the intention, but its there. I think you should play with it if you continue writing.

Anyways, very interesting, and as always, keep writing.
Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne




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Points 2256
Reviews 78
Thanks Rider! I laughed to myself when you said how its too early to tell anything, and it is. I felt like I had to start from the beginning with all my characters instead of actually writing about the main plot. Anywho, thanks for the feedback!

JC
Give hugs not bombs or whatever that saying says



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