Our indelible pasts|✔

thirty three - kiana

MY WHOLE LIFE my mom has never been truly present, even when she was physically there. All the things that a mother is supposed to do...supposed to be, she lacked heavily. No emotional support, no nothing.

Once Kayla and I were able to fully survive off of solid food, she decided that her part in raising us was done. If I'm being completely honest, it always felt like she was just some random woman that yes, birthed us but was forced to be in our lives. That's why Nana decided to stay with us. She didn't trust her with us. And dad was always too busy. So as far as I'm convinced, Nana is not only my grandmother, but she's also my mother. The better mother at least. She's the closest thing to a real parent I've ever had.

And you'd think that when she successfully divorced dad when Kay and I were 10, she'd take that as an opportunity to leave because she clearly did not care about us. But she didn't leave. She still stayed at the house, never lost her access to my dad's ever expanding funds and kept up with her record of being the world's worst mom.

As if things weren't bad enough, she was a drug addict. I'm pretty sure she still is, I'm sure bars couldn't stop her. She was mostly always high or trying to get high even though Kay and I were around her. Thanks to the magical blend of her addiction and don't-care attitude, by the mere age of 12, Kay and I knew how to roll a blunt, grind weed in the perfect way for a pipe and even how to mix lean. It's quite clear to see how much of amazing influence she was.

Now, I'm not going to judge her for doing drugs. I mean, who am I to critique? I'm literally making my way to Wyatt's place as we speak. But she went overboard by involving Kay and I. There was absolutely no need for that.

Thanks to our little random encounter two days ago, I've been tense and on edge. Past few weeks, before she showed up, I've been feeling dead. But now, I feel alive, but like I'm constantly drowning. And I feel like it's only a matter of time before I stop clawing at the surface and fighting for breath. So right now I just need–

"Wyatt!" I impatiently bang the door and not shortly after, I'm greeted by an excited and red-eyed Wyatt.

He ushers me in and I walk in, eager to get what I need and leave.

"Just had a friend drop in some edibles, want those?"

"They taste good?"

"She's an amazing baker." Wyatt slurs. "Come, I'll show you."

I follow him into the kitchen and on the island, there's an assortment of cookies, brownies, and cakes, looking like if you propped them at a stand in a bakery, you wouldn't believe they were made purely to induce euphoria in an addicts brain.

"I have a friend of mine who's here and he just tried the brownies." Wyatt points at the chocolate baked confection. "Loved them. He'll be down in a sec and tell you for himself. But trust me, this shit's fire."

I take my time eyeing everything on the kitchen island, enjoying the fact that I could get high and full on this.

I'm about to ask the prices when a voice interrupts me.

"Bro those brownies hit hard. I'm not leaving without some more." I look over to the entrance of the kitchen and I swear my heart skips at the least, ten beats. Or more. I don't know. The fear subsides for a moment, until I realise what this could mean...and my heart skips another ten beats.