Drunk or Sober

Not So Bonnie & Clyde

STILL SATURDAY

"Honey," Mrs. Blake was back in the room, accompanied by another officer. "You're free to go."

"Really?"

The other police officer unlocked my cell and I ran to hug Mrs. Blake. "Thanks again."

She smiled, "Just no more trouble."

As soon as I walked out, I'd actually wished I were still in that cell.

I'd rather have these cuffs suffocate both my wrists and go to jail six times before going home with him.

My dad sat on the bench outside the office, his own uniform on.

"Hello, son."

He didn't have any right in the world to call me that. He was never a father to me.

My childhood consisted of a mother who was always working and a father who never once paid attention to me.

I was seven years old and Lennox was just three when a fire broke out in our old apartment. Once I realized this, I opened the door only to reveal the entire hallway had been consumed by flames. Firemen fortunately got us out through the fire escape.

Where was my dad? Hungover in his bedroom. The firemen were also obligated to save anyone left in the building, including him.

I can't really say when my dad started drinking, but I do remember a time when things were okay. I had to be around four, when my dad was my best friend. It's really a shame how things turned out.

When I was ten, he got into a car accident while driving under the influence and Lennox got a concussion and fractured her arm. My mom was livid.

She thought we were sleeping but I could here their entire argument. And then I heard a crash. I ran into the living room and my mom was on the floor, backing away from him. He hit her.

My dad saw me peering in the doorway but I ran back inside my bedroom and tried to go back to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up to my dad sitting in a chair across from my bed. He was just staring at me, with this sinister smirk on his face. "Tell anyone and I'll kill her." He gestured at Lennox.

My mother filed for a divorce the following year, and I thought I'd finally be able to get away from that monster.

Except, of course, being an officer, he knew exactly what strings to pull to get minimal custody.

Lennox and I see him sometimes during the holidays, that is, if he even shows up. And when he does, it's usually awkward. I don't really keep up with him whatsoever, but I think he has a girlfriend now, with curly dark hair and a perfect hourglass figure who's got to be only a few years older than me.

"Son?"

"Hi Sam."

"You ready?"

"Yeah."

I followed him out the door to his car.

"What happened, Wes?"

I rolled my eyes but I figured it was too dark to even tell.

"Don't act like you care." I muttered.

He ignored my snide comment and started the car.

"Hungry?"

"Starving."

"You want food?"

"I'd rather go home."