“I'm gonna say this once, and I'm only gonna say it once. If any of you breathe a word of what we're about to do, I'll kill you." 

The sound of Captain America's voice filled the living room, coming from the TV. It was one of my favorite avengers movies, and i couldn't help but smile as i awaited for Thor's signature one-liners. 

Here it goes; "We should go over it again. I wasn't listening. Hahaha!” I found myself speaking along with the characters in the movie, laughing like a crazy person. 

I kicked my feet up in the air and brought them down again, getting caught up in the moment. I was completely immersed in the movie, oblivious to the outside world. It was as if I had been transported into the movie itself.

Tweew!

I was so absorbed in the movie that I jumped when the TV suddenly went black. "What the...?!" I yelled, shocked by the sudden interruption. 

Power failure!

The room grew darker, and I felt a sense of loss as the characters on the screen disappeared. 

"Ya!" came a loud, angry voice from the doorway. I turned to see my mother standing there, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. "Why are you wasting your time watching this nonsense?" she demanded, looking at me with disapproval. 

She was always quick to criticize my interests, dismissing anything she deemed unproductive or a waste of time. I knew better than to try to explain myself, so I just sat there, trying to contain my frustration.

I plastered a wide, fake smile on my face and said, "My angry birdie!" I went over and gave her a big hug, even though I was still fuming inside. "What time did you get back?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light and friendly. "And who made you so angry this time? I'll kill them!" I joked, not meaning it of course.

I wrapped my arms around her, my broad chest pressing against her lean frame. 

She squirmed in my grasp, pushing me away as she yelled, "Why haven't you done the dishes yet?! It's been two days since those dirty plates and cups have been left there! They're an eyesore!" Her voice was shrill with irritation, and I could see the steam coming out of her ears.

"Mom, I've got that covered, okay?" I said, trying to lighten the mood, but Mom wasn't having any of it. At times like this, she goes haywire.

"For f**k sake, Fred Rogers, you're twenty-seven years old! When are you going to start acting responsibly?" Mom yelled, her voice shrill with frustration. She threw her hands up in the air as she spoke, her gestures full of exasperation. Oh well, Here we go again.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I gasped, though it was more for effect than anything else. "Mom, you swore," I said, trying to sound scandalized.

"Quiet, Fred!" Mom snapped. "Just look at the living room - it's like a pigsty in here! Do you think we're raising pigs?"

I was about to let this tirade go, let Mom vent her frustration until she was out of steam, but then I remembered our neighbor. The one who lived next door - the lady with the sensitive hearing. Oh boy.

I edged closer to Mom, urgency propelling me forward. I reached out to cover her mouth with my hand, but she knocked my hand away. "Mom, you can't let Maisie hear these profanities," I whispered, gesturing at our neighbor's house. "You'll embarrass yourself."

If you're thinking I'm crafty and cunning, then know that my mother, the woman who gave birth to me, was even more so. With a lightning-fast movement, she bit my fingers, drawing blood. "Ouch!" I exclaimed, retracting my hand and cradling it to my chest.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Mom asked, her hands on her hips and a pout on her lips. Only then did I notice the makeup on her face. She was definitely getting ready to leave the house.

I let out a long sigh, tired of explaining myself for the umpteenth time since we'd moved into this neighborhood. "Maisie is not my type," I said, my voice laden with boredom. "Black Widow is."

Smack!

The slap landed hard on my cheek, jerking my head to the side. Mom had struck me again, just as she always did whenever I made that comment. And then she'd say:

"A widow is not who you'd marry," Mom scolded, her words tinged with anger and disgust. "Since when did you start liking black girls?"

That was different from what she'd said before. Mom had always been a bit racist, but this time she sounded more so than usual. 

I sighed again tiredly because I'd be embarking on another phase of explaining things to Mom. “Black Widow is a lady in the Avengers, not a black skinned wife of a dead man.” 

"Grow up, Fred!" Mom snapped, her words hitting me like a slap in the face. "Your father didn't want you to be a slob. He wanted you to be a hero, to save the world like he did, but here you are, acting like a child and making excuses. It's always either the cat's fault or the house's fault. Stop blaming others and take some responsibility!"

I dropped my head, unable to meet Mom's gaze. Any other topic, I could have continued to argue, but when it came to Dad, something in me cooled down. I knew she was right - I needed to take responsibility for my actions.

Oh and yeah, just to be clear, when Dad said he wanted me to be a hero, he meant like him - a low-ranking police officer. He didn't mean I should become an Avenger or anything like that. I know my imagination can run away with me sometimes!

If Dad were still here, I think Mom wouldn't have been so distant towards me. I think our family would have been whole, with just the three of us. 

“Where's Mylo?” Mom asked, her throat parched. I made her cry. Sigh!

Oh yeah, Mylo is our cat. Mom's cat actually. Dad got it for her and right now I don't know where he is. I gave Mom that look again - that ‘i do not know, I'm sorry’ look and she growled.

“Oh, Jesus! Fred!”

“Mom, chill okay? He's probably around here somewhere,” I tried to get her to relax but well, I don't know. It kind of worked.

Mom snatched her bag from the coat rack, shooting me a glare as she did so. "I'm going to the usual place now," she said, referring to the local coffee shop where she liked to spend her afternoons. 

"Find Mylo, give him a bath, and wash yourself, too. And clean up this house!" she added, giving the messy living room a disgusted look.

Mom slung her bag over her shoulder and said the words I loved to hear. "I made enough food for you to last a week. Make sure you..."

"Ugh, I love you too, Mom," I groaned, rolling my eyes. I wrapped my arms around her in a tight hug, knowing it would annoy her.

As soon as she left, the smile I had plastered on my face disappeared. I had been living like this for the past fourteen years - Mom coming and going, her presence in my life never consistent.

Mom had remarried after Dad died fifteen years ago. She had another family now - a husband whom I didn't feel comfortable around and a son who was always trying to get my attention. I tried to pretend that I was okay with the way things were, but deep down, I knew I wasn't.

Light!

Finally, the lights flickered back on. I let out a sigh of relief, forgetting all the worries that had been swirling around my head. 

Forgetting all the chores I had to do, I grabbed the TV remote like it was the most important thing in the world and flopped down on the couch like a wrestler at the end of a match.

"One...two...three...Eee! And Freaky Freddy wins! Woot woot! Freaky Freddy's the greatest!" I cheered, clapping my hands and laughing at my own ridiculousness. That's just the way I am.

Time to watch Avengers: Endgame again! It's been a year since the movie came out, and this would be my seventeenth

time watching it. I know, I know - I'm obsessed! But can you blame me? It's a great movie.