girl singing in the wreckage ✰ dave grohl

seven

"april, come and sit down." her father spoke, looking down to where his hands rested on his jeans as he sat on their worn leather couch. she had just gotten home from a party, her bag slung over her shoulder and mascara beginning to smear under her eyes.

"i'm really tired, dad. i'm gonna go to bed. we can talk in the morning." she began walking in the direction of her room when his words halted her.

"i found your stash." he stated quietly and void of much emotion. 

she stopped walking, her back still facing him. slowly, she turned around and he emptied the contents of a black makeup bag on the coffee table. she knew what was going to come out before it did. she gulped.

"i found this, as well as pill bottles in all your little hiding places... empty bottles of vodka and pot in your closet... sheets of lsd in between books on your bookcase."

"i-- i'm--" she stuttered, caught between being terrified he was going to hit her, and ready to fight him if he threw away any of her shit.

there were an assortment of pills bottles he then emptied from a plastic grocery bag. painkillers, xanax, adderall, diet pills, valium, codeine, oxys, vicodin. she felt more exposed than she had ever felt, knowing her father had combed the contents of her room.

"you're in deep shit, is what you are." he grimaced, not even able to look at her as he clenched his jaw. "i want you to pack all of your shit up, and i want you to leave."

it was then that she noticed the half empty bottle of titos on the table, and the stench coming from him.

"dad... i'm... i'm sorry." she began, walking forward and flinching when he stood up abruptly. "please... please don't kick me out."

"i don't even recognize you anymore, aurora." it was when he called her aurora that her heart shattered. "i want you out. or i'll call the police."

her father was never very emotional, at least when he was sober, but when he was drunk his emotions could be unpredictable. when he drank, he could either be affectionate, emotional, or angry.

"if you'd call the police on your own fucking daughter then i don't want to fucking be in the same house as you." april cried out, storming into her room and stuffing her shit into a bag. 

she ransacked her room, trying to find anything he didn't take. the only thing she could come up with was pills in her sock drawer, and some weed she hid under her mattress. she pulled a zip up hoodie on, stuffed all the money she could find around her room in her wallet and walked back into the living room where her father was still sitting. he was now holding the bag of pills with a firm grasp.

"give me the pills, dad." she spoke coldly, barely above a whisper. he didn't reply, or even move, he just stared at the wall. "give me the fucking pills." she rasped, her voice cracking, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill. 

she knew she was a terrible person-- she had never once denied that-- but the tears came from the voice in the back of her head telling her that this was the final straw. he didn't love her anymore.

"give me the fucking pills, dad!" she cried out, extending her arm toward the bag. "dad!" 

he was drunk, she was high. they were both furious-- both at the other and in some way or another, at themselves. her father was angry at himself for not doing more when he saw that she was spiraling, and she was angry at herself for being such a weak fucking person that she chose a plastic grocery bag full of xans over her dad. 

her face was red and she was on the verge of a panic attack. she stood there for a few more moments before storming out of the front door, not letting the tears begin to fall until she had gotten two blocks away. 

she found herself in the middle of nowhere at three in the morning, sobbing on a street corner as she attempted to light the last cigarette in the tattered white box of marlboros. as she dug through her bag, trying to find another lighter, a piece of paper flew out. she didn't know what compelled her to catch it as it began to fly away, but she did. when she flattened out the crumpled piece of paper, it read: dave's phone number

she sighed before taking the cig out of her mouth and putting it back in the box, standing up and attempting to locate a pay phone. after a while of wandering, she came across one and inserted a quarter, dialing the number. she didn't really need the paper after all, as she had found that she had memorized the brunettes telephone number by heart.

it rung four times before it was picked up, her short and shallow breaths beginning to calm.

"hello?"

she exhaled as soon as she heard his voice, wrapping her free arm around her waist in an attempt to warm up.

"dave? it's... um, it's april." she began, shivering as she began to take in how sketchy her surroundings were. her anxiety may have been heightened due to the events of the last couple hours, but she wasn't in the most pleasant part of town. her breaths began to shorten once more as she felt the familiar rise of anxiety in her throat.

"april?" he replied, then paused as he heard her fast paced breaths on the other end of the line. "are you... ok?" 

"i'm, um..." she began to reply, trying to fight off the anxiety that was beginning to wrap around her neck. "i'm in a-- a sketchy part of town and i'm lost and you were the first person i thought to call, i'm sorry i--" she began to nervously ramble, but was cut off.

"where are you?" he asked firmly. she looked around her for street signs and told him when she spotted them. "i'll be there soon, sit tight." he could tell she was both high and panicking by her stuttering, and the way her voice was wavering.

"i'm sorry-- you don't have to--"

"don't mention it, aurora."