Maxwell the Spider

A SHORT STORY

I have no doubt this short story spewed forth from my fingers because I grew up with a screaming mother until my dad thankfully divorced her. I wish parents understood what constant screaming can do to kids. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story.

My mom is screaming. Again. She always screams. Neighbors have complained. The police were called once. It continues. Mom has problems. At least I’ll realize mom has mental health problems later when I grow up. But right now, I’m huddled under the bed, scared.

You’d think by now having lived with all this screaming and erratic behavior from mom that I’d be used to it. I am. Sort of. Not really. If I get honest, it still scares me.

Next to me is Maxwell. He’s a spider. I know, spider — yuck. But he’s pretty cool. I think he’s a he. Maybe he’s a girl. Or maybe spiders don’t have a specific gender. I need to look that up when I’m in the school library.

Maxwell keeps me company. I don’t have any brothers or sisters. Mom had me and that was that. That’s probably for the best. She’s not a great mom. I’m sure many 7-year-old kids say that about their moms, but I’ve heard neighbors and a social services woman who came to the house say it too. They even threatened to take me away from mom, but that never happened.