Hiraeth

ʟɪɢʜᴛ

I close my eyes as I take a long drink of tequila, I hold lazily in my hand. Relaxingly I slump my shoulders underneath the water as I'm bathing in my large bath tub. Having slight flashbacks of my child self playing with my toys inside the bath tub, splashing the water all over the bathroom floor. Maybe it's not the safest thing to be drunk and in the bath tub. But we all die anyways at least I can die relaxed. I've been here for hours just getting shit faced in here.

I slowly get up after finishing the whole alcohol bottle. Not caring that water droplets fall from my body. The shiny marble floor now wet. Stumbling slightly as I change into my silky night outfit. I leave my room that reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. Walking into the wine cellar, dad tried to pretend was a random closet when I was younger. I pull out a random vodka bottle as it was the first thing in my reach and I was starting to get desperate.

Wanting to feel the burning sensation against my throat I quickly opened the bottle. Now wanting to wait any longer, I take a long drink. I lean against the wall slowly sliding down. Biting my lip harshly trying to stop my lips from trembling. Don't be pathetic Heaven. I repeat over and over again. I hate it. Everyone thinks I'm little ms perfect. One thing I hate that I do. For the longest time, the one thing I feared the most in my life was my own mind.

I would get so trapped inside, I felt like screaming. I feel like screaming at everyone, why can't they see how locked up I am? I feel so suffocated. I'm dying in the inside and still smiling on the outside. I slowly lay down on the cold floor. Alcohol dripping from my chin that I don't even bother cleaning off. I take a long swing slightly coughing.

I feel my eyes get teary. I don't know if it's because of the alcohol or from just fucking crying. I stare into the bright light. Is that what happened when we die? Do we just enter a bright light? And that's just our way to the after life. I wonder how is the after life. Many people say that they think there dead loved ones go to a happy place. As they don't have to worry about anything anymore, there finally free and happy.

Is Romero there? Maybe, he was never a bad person. Hudson, I wonder if he's there. Are they reunited together again? I bite my lip trying to control the tears that our threatening to fall. It's different with my older cousin which by the way is only like a month older. He disappeared he can be anywhere. It's different from Romero because I know Romero is deceased but Hudson we never got that information. As the police stopped looking years ago, now a cold case.

I hear soft footsteps approaching I don't bother reading much into it. I close my eyes when the door snaps open. It's quiet for awhile until I hear a deep sigh.

"Heaven," a very familiar voice whispered. I slowly opened my eyes readjusting to the annoyingly bright light. I look a dad who has a disapproving look on his face as he eyes the tequila in my hand. "What are you doing?" He snaps. Taking the bottle that I was lazily holding.

"Dad," I groan. "Don't be a downer." I rest my head back on the floor. A headache starting to form. Clearly trying to hide his annoyance from his face.

"Your not even allowed to drink yet Heaven!" He exclaims. "And it's not healthy for you at such young age." He scolds. I close my eyes.

"Please spare my the lecture." I whine. Rubbing my temples trying to clear my headache.

"I will have not have you do this to yourself Heaven." He said. "I know your going through a tough time-" I cut off.

"Please," I beg. "Leave me alone." I slowly stand up trying not to lose my balance. Yet that doesn't work as I stumble, resting my hand on the counter for support. I walk away snatching the tequila from his hand. Chugging on it as I walk away.

"Heaven," he rushes in front of me. Snatching the bottle from me again. I sign in annoyance. Why can't he just leave me alone?

"What dad?" I snap.

"Your drunk." He points out. Well no shit dad. "Ronda!" He calls out. Quickly the cook scurries towards us.

"Yes, Mr Carter?" The old lady asks politely. Looking between dad and I.

"Can you make something for her." He points to me. She quickly walks towards the kitchen I don't bother entering since that day. Dad pulls me towards the sitting room. Having me sit down on the comfortable furniture. He looks down at me closing his eyes and sighing.

I look at the alcohol dad placed at the corner of the room. Thinking if I should make a run for it and run out of the house.

"Please talk to me Heaven?" He pleads slowly opening his eyes.

"There's nothing to tell," I shrug. Trying my best to conceal my anger. What does he want me to tell him? Like fucking honestly. My mom tried to fucking kill me. That explains everything.

"Heaven-"

"No dad," I cut him off. "What is there to tell? Honestly dad, there's nothing to tell everything is there."

"I do understand Heaven." He assures. "But getting drunk. You need to handle yourself better than that." His voice slightly cracking.

"Handle myself?" I scoffed. "How do you want me to handle myself dad!" I exclaimed. "Go back to how everything was?" I throw my hands up. "Don't you see dad? Everyone is gone!"

"I-"

"Is that why you wanted to hear?" I mutter. "How do I handle myself now dad?" I repeat his very own words back to him.

"You don't think I know that Heaven?" He paces through the big room. "You can't just throw everything away just because of that." He said. "Obviously you can't just get over what happened quickly but at least try."

"Here's your food," Ronda walks in awkwardly. Setting down the food beside me. Walking away quickly. I look back at dad.

"You have now idea what it felt like to be abused by your own mother." I said in a dangerously low voice. "And you," I let out a laugh filled with no emotion. "You expect me to get over it like nothing ever happened."

"I didn't say that." He quickly defended himself.

"You basically did." I close my eyes. He's quiet for awhile. He breaths out.

"Eat your food." He ordered. Hearing his loud footsteps echo through the hallways.

I look down at my hands, quickly looking away shaking my head.