Vanity Affair (Short Story ) Oedipus Complex

At the end of the street an empty house lay, not common among most towns in New Orleans. Empty with people soon empty with furniture as well... at night it is said you can hear the rustling spirits breaking glass. This is what haunts fellow people of Bywater, the one night when the strong sound of trumpets and saxophone playing wasn’t prevalent instead the sound of a desperate plea.
Mover1”you lift as I lift, why I feel like I’m carrying the whole damn dresser”
Mover2” it’s a vanity, and I am lifting its just feels like it weighs a ton”
Mover1”alrite aright on to the truck then, watch it this VANITY is already paid for you scratching it up”
Mover 2” I think that was already on there, and what’s that big burgundy stain?
Mover 1” Bad Paint Job?”
 Mover 1:  What you mean it aint paint? The couple that lived here kids probably had an accident, that’s all.”
Mover 2: accident? What kind of accident you think causes that much blood? You know I have heard stories about this place
 Mover 1: I heard some too, but the way you talkin man, I’m not too sure if we're on the same page. What did you hear?
 Mover 2:" you know man the whole thing with old lady messing around with the milk man and her husband came home early and found out and shot them both"
 Move 1: Don't you think that’s a little extreme? I heard the husband was abusive, obsessive and became jealous and tried to burn the house down
 Mover 2: well you know gossip in this town, never know what’s what
 Mover 1: You're right... This place is giving me the creeps though.  The mover puts on his bright orange jacket, man I don’t even want to take the vanity any more. Leave it there Phil

“Henry, come give me a hand with this vanity!”
“Mom give me five minutes, I’m almost done with this stage” focusing on his video game Henry was tired of his mom rearranging furniture all day. “What did she want from my life now?” he thought briefly.
“I said now” his mother said.
“Why do you need this? We haven’t got much room.” Henry said.
“Yes we do and it is not for me I’m holding it for a friend of mine.” Amy replied.
  Henry reluctantly got up from his chair, sucked his teeth and began to lug the furniture up the stairs.
Henry and his mother had just moved to Bywater, New Orleans. He had never known his father, and was told that dad died when he was little. Henry loved his mother and she was his everything. Everyone he came in contact with said he was an extreme mama’s boy, he did not have any friends, Mother was all he needed.
    After a few hours, most of the furniture was in place and Henry realized that he had never lived in such a big house before. Henry and his mother Amy were poor; they had always lived in a small apartment. The house was on the market for a really small price, and Henry wondered why. Was there something wrong with this house? He heard that a crazy old widow lived here before them, killing all the men she brought home before finally killing herself. Henry shuddered in fear at the fact that he would have his own room. Who would be there when he had his daily nightmares? Mother would be all the way down at the far end the hall.
Later that night Henry felt his throat tighten; once again found he awakend with sweaty palms and a beating pulse. He saw her again, this time she was trapped behind glass. Her long brunette hair clung to her back; her studded pearls lay quaint on her earlobe, a long robe hugged her shoulders, tears rolled down her eyes. Henry longed to be in her world. He belonged with her. Henry’s palm lay on the glass and he was unable to move them. He felt lifeless as he watched her run away. “Wait!” he would scream. “Please don’t leave” I need you! She would ignore his cry. He felt abandoned and alone.
“MOOOOOTHER” Henry screamed awoken quickly from his nightmare.
His eyes darted over his room; he forgot where he was at the moment. Brown boxes were everywhere. The only thing that seemed to belong was his mother’s large vanity.  It was sturdy, and had flower embroidery along its legs.
Henry thought his cry would have awakened his mother but there was mere silence in the house, something foreign to Henry because of his last home in the city. “MOM?”, “Mom, where are you?!!” Henry found himself screaming and realized only his echoes replied, so he then decided to leave his bedroom in search for his mother.
Henry went from room to room and discovered he was alone. Where could his mom have gone? Did she forget to mention she was leaving? Instead of feeling concerned by his mother’s disappearance, Henry started to become enraged. His thoughts changed from where could she have gone to who could she have went to see?
    Henry remembered the man who would come to the old apartment some days and sit with mother in the living room. Who Henry had started to notice a few months before the move, he was a middle aged man. He had ruffled thick brown hair, bags under his eyes and facial hair along his cheeks. His eyelashes were extremely long and his teeth were the definition of yellow. Henry hated his face and saw the man in the most weirdest and unexplainable places. When they met they never talked, just stared into each other’s eyes. When he would ask his mother about him, she would remain in silence. Henry gave the man the name Mr. Weathers.
    Was Mr. Weathers the man his mother ran off with in the middle of the night? He thought. How could she leave me here all by myself? I feel so alone, all I want is to hug her and have her scent about me, feel her skin against mine….. Henry was furious that Mr. Weathers had his mother away for the night. What was he doing to her? If only I knew where the bastard Weathers lived, thought Henry.
Henrys multiple emotions filled his mind until he fell back asleep. He awoke the next morning to the smell of hot cakes and grits. Following the sweet aroma down the stairs Henry found his mom in the kitchen behind the stove.
“Good Morning honey, how’d you sleep?”. Remembering his abandonment the night before, Henry disregarded his moms question and started his own investigation. “Where were you last night?”. His mom looked at her son puzzled and answered “sound asleep in bed, where else?”. Furious by this answer Henry yelled out “NO YOU WERENT!”. Henrys mom had never witness her son raise his voice to her, something was wrong.
    She was shocked. She began to shout “Excuse me, boy-“but was cut off by Henry “I awoke last night, you were not home! I called out for you! Who were you with!? ANSWER ME!” Amy replied “Boy, this is no time for interrogation! Get your breakfast before the bus leaves you, you need fresh air. ”
“Good” Henry shouted.
‘’ I’ll walk!” he said.
 While Henry was out, he stopped at the park. He wasn’t even concerned about him not making it a productive day. Thoughts of Mr. Weathers and mother flooded his mind. “
“Why does mama need anyone else? Why is that guy around? I’m a young boy! Mother doesn’t need him, I’m going to be her baby, forever!” The jealousy of someone else having Mother was overwhelming.
    Nightfall approached Henry knew his mother would worry so he waited for his bus and boarded. It took a long half hour to get back to the house. Once out the bus, he noticed the light on in the living room. He peered in through the window and saw Mr. Weathers and mother sitting in the living room. His mother was drinking out of his favorite pink flower mugs, watching the television. Mr. Weather was quiet and still. His baggy eyes were prominent, his black hair was ruffled. He noticed Henry as soon as he approached the mirror and stared blankly back at him. A familiar feeling began to come over Henry as his throat tightened, his palms became sweaty. The bushes under the window sill scratched his leg, while the dirt clung to his feet. Why was Mr.Weather staring at him like that? What was he to do? His body leaned forward, as his knees began to give out and as he did Mr. Weather came closer as well. Mr. Henry sat on the ground and covered his face with his hands embarrassed he had been spying on them a gotten caught, after a few minutes; he heard a car pass by. Mr. Weathers must have left.
Henry sprang up and began to fumble around his pocket; he then found his keys and jolted inside. "Mother?" Henry said while entering the kitchen. “Why hello my Henry.” she replied, while bent over the stove. “Our appetizers are ready monsieur” she said in a fake French accent. “Mother your friend said he had to run, he’s not here” he said. “ Why Henry what are you? … Oh him …okay” she replied nervously. She must not think I know Henry thought. “I’m going upstairs. '' He said. “You don’t want anything to eat Henry?” Amy questioned “No, I'm fine” Henry headed to the staircase. While on the long journey to his room, Henry's thoughts flooded his head. The image of his mother, and the way Mr. Weather blankly stared at him was terrifying. Henry opened the door and sat on the chair facing the glass mirror of the vanity. The glass mirror needed to be clean, dirt clenched on to various spots.
Henry stared at what it looked to be a weird reflection; he did not know whose eyes were looking back at him. He didn’t recognize his face, his eyes had bags under them.. Everything just did not seem right. It must be this mirror he thought, no wonder mother hated it. I need a good sleep he thought, I am a growing boy he thought I need sleep, so I be big and strong like Daddy he told himself. Henry folded his arms and laid his head down on the vanity. While his disturbing dream came back for one last visit.
His glass beauty, this time was slightly different. Her long brunette hair clung to her back; her studded pearls lay quaint on her earlobe, a long robe hugged her shoulders, the warmth escaped from her smile, she was full of youth…. But suddenly a big grayish figure was beside her. The figure was hunched over as almost if he was carrying the burden of age. RUN! RUN! He couldn’t even see her anymore. His palms were trapped on the glass; his feet were hard as stone. All he could do was watch from a distance.
DING DING DING
Henry the loud noise of bells rang through Henry’s ears.
He opened his eyes, and peered around. It was one pm and he awoke to a man in the mirror. This time Henry viewed his face more clearly. The man had a patch of facial hair; his eyelashes contained a blank stare. I can’t let this happen to me, Henry thought. He covered his hands with his face and waited for Mr. Weathers to leave. I need to give him his stupid vanity back Henry thought. He first tried pushing it out of his room, it just would not budge. I’ll take it apart, starting with this old dusty mirror. Henry went in the back of the vanity, spotted two golden knobs and began unscrewing the brown back covering dropped in his hands. Henry took out the mirror and began to run. It was heavy so him down he was careful not to drop it “MOOOOTHER” Henry screamed in the halls, “I’m outside on the porch” he heard her say from a distance. His mother was on a orange porch chair, the sun beamed down on her back, her skin looked so smooth he just wanted to touch it. Henry tried to open the porch door but he couldn’t. He was stunned. Mr. Weathers was there once again, staring at him, what a evil face he had. His mother headed to greet Henry. His mother opened the porch door, and Mr. Weather stood by the side. “Ugh he is here, Get away, Please” he cried. His mother held out her hand “Give me the mirror Henry, come eat lunch” she said. Henry saw Mr. Weathers in the corner of his eye. Henry gasped “LEAVE US ALONE, YOU ARE RUINING US” he yelled. “Henry his mother yelled, pass me the mirror… PASS IT TO ME NOW!” Suddenly a loud crash echoed to the sky the mirror shatter into a million pieces, blood was everywhere. The sun beamed on the different shards of glass… while blood seeped on top. His mother’s lifeless body lay at Henry’s feet, glass in her eyes, her neck, protruding from the back of her neck. Henry’s eyes darted from side to side. Henry spotted a large piece of broken glass and Mr. Weathers had big eyes stared back at him. Henry darted inside the house and grabbing a knife out of the drawer he closed his eyes, plunging the knife into his heart. He heard a laugh in the distance, and his knees then sank towards the floor, blood escaping his tongue forming around a deranged smile. What an ugly face.