The World Can't Save Us

3 - Intoxicated Memories

Daddy Issues - The Neighborhood (Slowed)

Elena

"You're not serious!?" I yell with a rhetorical tone.

"El just wai-"

"Where did you even get this huh?!"

"El-" I cut him off." Alexander, why the hell would you buy this?" I don't let up and his full name clarifies how I feel.

"It's not a big deal, it's only a little bit." He raises his hands slightly, these gestures implying he believes I need to calm down.

"A LITTLE BIT?!" I'm furious. There's a big difference between a little bit of alcohol or a little bit of weed compared to a little, which in front of him is nowhere near a little, of cocaine.

I shut my eyes tight and take a deep breath attempting to calm my mind.

How could he do this? He's too good for this shit.

When I open my eyes I can imagine Alex was seeing another person. The thoughts rushing through my mind did not resemble me at all. My eyes harden to match the stern look on my face. I feel destructive, so enraged, I want- I need to punch through the powder covered glass. I need to make it disappear from his life, from our lives.

I want to slap that idiot across the face.

"Alex you know I don't care what you do half the time but this is different." It comes out more aggressively than expected; it comes out naturally.

I can't think straight as my attitude switches between concerned and angry. "This can kill you- you're 16! I know you think it's just a little bit but be serious what I'm looking at isn't." My eyes water minimally from all the yelling. Hidden from his knowledge, their creation is also a product of the build up inside me.

I'm worried for him, better said I'm scared. What drove him to this point? He's young so his curiosity is understandable but this has never happened before from what I know. Has he been going through something and didn't tell me; I'm supposed to be responsible for him and I don't even know how he's feeling.

Is my brother okay?

My focus returns to the argument. Alex stands up quickly. "ELENA! I'm not a little fucking kid anymore!" His profanity spits itself at me. "You act like I'm some naive teenager. I know what I'm doing." He's yelling too, perhaps influenced by the drugs. His demeanor is stranger to me, is this how parents feel?

"Naive?" I ask. "NAIVE?!" My sarcasm takes over. I scoff as I glance to my side in shock trying to find what to say next. I glare back at him, unable to conceal my disappointment under my disgust. "You are. Look what you're doing." I yell no longer caring how loud we are.

"Oh my God." He tightens his fists against his sides and his scrunched up nose exhales an outraged breath before he snaps at me. "GIVE ME SOME DAMN CREDIT!" I'm not one to get into a screaming match but this is different. It's bringing back memories I've had long buried, ones I don't want to resurface.

"Why can't you just give me a break already?!" Alex stops yelling but his furious expression is clear.

"BECAUSE YOUR BECOMING LIKE HIM!" My lungs inhale sharply. The feeling of my chest tightening like knives against my lungs takes control of my body and my eyes have flooded with tears, the smallest movement will send them rolling down my cheeks. I'm trying so hard to handle this situation with maturity except the pain in my body and throat is excruciatingly un-ignorable.

Not memories but nightmares are swarming in my head. I remember when our mom first left, and father started doing drugs in pointless hopes to take the pain away. But it never did. It only magnified his darkness. He was worse than I had ever known, heartbroken mixed with rage and confusion.