Coconut Colada

Chapter 7

"Levi, you asshole!" I looked up from the comic book. Comic books were the only thing that I liked in the world. All of my friends were losers and didn't care about me.

Just like every other day I was hoping that this time that my father wasn't drunk. but there he was, stumbling in the kitchen. I knew what was going to happen next.

I hated how he made me so weak. When I was younger I would try to fight back, but I soon realized there was no point. I deserved it. As I approached the door my father stopped me with his arm.

"Just were do ya think you're goin boi," his voice was more steady than usual so I knew I couldn't escape without any marks.

"You are a disappointment, you know that." My own fathers words sunk into me, like someone drowning in the depths of the ocean. Only I was the one drowning in his ocean of words.

"N-not as much as you," I said under my breath. Wow why am I such an idiot. I should've known better. He grabbed me by my hoodie and began to beat me. I closed my eyes and tried not to cry, because I knew if I did he would only hit me harder.

He let go of me and said, "I hope that will teach you a lesson boi. Don't you ever disrespect me!" I closed my eyes trying not to cry. No matter how much I was beat, the pain never got any better and the words hurt worse. I needed to escape.

As I ran out my door, I noticed a family emptying my neighbor's house. I always remembered how my neighbor cared for me. She would even give me refreshments in the summer time when I was younger. Bethany was the only one who really cared for me, and now she was dead. Now I had no reason to live anyway.

Today I was going to finally die, I thought. My friend Ryan had some pills that are supposed to be easy to overdose on. He said he would sell them to me for a discount. Sometimes having useless drug dealing friends is a good thing I guess.

I began walking to his house which was outside of the suburb I lived in. It seemed less fake and cheerful, and I respected that. No beautiful homes to hide the truth from everyone, just reality.

Living in a nice house in a good part of town was usually a normal family, with loving parents. Not for me I thought. No one ever saw how my parents really were, they were masked by wealth. Somehow my parents afforded our nice house and lived a horrible life all at once.

Another reason why I wanted to die was so my family cycle didn't continue. I was afraid I would raise a family the same way my father and mother did.

My mother was traumatized by the war in her country. She was just happy to finally be away from all of it. She basically married the first bastard with money laying around. I didn't want anyone to go through what I did.

"Sup dude," Ryan seemed disoriented and wide eyed. Not surprising for a drug dealer.

"Sup," we shook hands and exchanged goods.

"Careful with that dude, shit will mess you up." No duh, I thought. That's the whole point.

As I walked back I noticed a girl sitting on a stool staring out the window of my old neighbors house. She was pretty in a possibly artsy kinda way? Her hair was messily tied back and she was wearing baggy clothes for painting, I assumed. Something about this girl just made me want to get to know her. It must have been the kind, eager eyes that drew me to her. Before I could wave I saw her rush away from the window, and then I heard a scream.

"Someone help!" It was a boy rushing out of the house. He had a worried look on his face.

"What's wrong?" I didn't know how I was going to help them. I was useless anyways, right?

"Just come in. I need you to help my sister." I assumed this was the brother of the girl who was in the attic. Unless he had another sister? Probably not.

"Okay." I rushed into the house with the girls brother.

She was sitting at the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes were glassy and red from crying. Somehow she still looked presentable. We locked eyes for a moment. Maybe she was worth living for.