Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Sitting alone in the corner, he put the puzzle together, Piece by piece, until the picture is finished, where as he'll simply dump it out and start all over again. He could hear his mother behind him, though he did not bother to turn around, "Nate, I'm going out for a bit. Dinner is in the fridge."

Then she left, and he continued to put the puzzle together.

When she had returned the dinner had been eaten but nothing else had been disturbed and he still sat in the corner, putting piece by piece of the same puzzle together, "Nate, it's time for bed."

He simply nodded while she went and collapsed onto her own bed.

When she woke, she could still hear the subtle clicking of puzzle pieces fitting together as she concocted something strange to nurse her hangover. Stumbling into the living room, she collapsed onto the couch beside her son, "Nate, why do you keep putting the same puzzle together?"

All he said was, "If I don't, then who will?"

No more words were passed between them, she simply watched him piece the puzzle together, then restart the puzzle until it was time to go to work. Even then, all she said was, "Bye Nate, I'm going to work," and he did not acknowledge her.

This time, upon her arrival home, Nate still sat in the corner with his puzzle only there was a strange man with her. They said nothing to Nate; they simply walked back to her bedroom, where they stayed for hours, making strange noises, until the man left and his mother was still passed out in her room,

He didn't question what they were doing, he was smart enough to know from all the crime dramas his mother watched, and he didn't bother to go and make sure is mother is well, past experiences show she'll be just fine.

The next morning she came out of her bedroom with a lit cigarette placed between her fingers and her hair a mess, she only ever smokes after she's had a man over, "Nate, do you want to go to school today?"

He did not respond to her, which she simply took as a no before once again getting ready and leaving for work; the only food in the house being bread, milk, and ham.

Nate never moved from his spot on the floor, instead he simply put the puzzle together, again and again, the same picture each time until his mother returned to the apartment.

She said nothing to him. She kicked off her shoes and stumbled back to the bedroom, the smell of alcohol still fresh on her breath. Nate fixed himself a sandwich before returning to his puzzle.

The next morning a woman came to pick his mother up for work. Nate only got a glimpse of her as he opened the door before his mother rushed out and slammed the door in his face. Nate thought nothing of it, he, once again, returned to his puzzle and waited for his mother to return to the apartment.

This time, when she returned, she was in a rush. She grabbed a bag and filled it with clothes, money, jewelry, even a few pieces of the silverware that they never seem to use. She pulled her hair free and ran to the door before her body froze and she turned to face Nate, "I'm sorry, Nate, I just can't do this anymore."

With that said, she closed the door and left Near in the apartment, alone and for the last time. Near stopped putting his puzzle together, after all, what's the point? The happily family in the picture will never be his.