How could you forget?

Part ten

A/N: this chapter isn't going to be a happy one. There will be a lot more emotion and things will start to meke sence. You will see the real Emily, the one very few people know this side of.

Niall knocked on my door.

"Come in," I said in a shaky voice, tears filling my eyes when I saw him.

"What happened? What's wrong?" he asked, concern in his eyes, sitting next to me on the bed.

"I need to talk to you," I stated, now crying. He picked me up and put me on his lap. I buried my head into his chest and started to sob. How was I going to tell his? I knew it would be hard. "Nialler, do you know how my dad got that new rout where he works, when we were in fourth grade, and he started at 3am?" I asked.

"Yeah, I remember," he answered.

"I have a lot to tell you and that you don't know, and it starts there," I stated. "The first few months, he had trouble sleeping and adjusting to the new schedule of when he could sleep," I began. "Eventually, he started to use alcohol to fall asleep," my crying began to get harder and I shiver went through me because of the memory. Nialler started to hug me tighter, knowing where this may go. "For a couple years, he drank beer to fall asleep. It started to become more often he drank a few cans when I was in sixth grade. My mom started to find the beer cans hidden, empty, around the house. Even I would fine one every once and awhile. In seventh grade, we were going to see our neighbors new house. He had a bag of empty cans in the back of the truck. He drove up the road before my mom came down. When he came back, they were gone. About a month later, my mom, brother, and I went on a walk. We saw the bag on the side of the road with high grass and trees surrounding it. I knew it had to be his, it was the same bag and brand of beer. We went back and my mom asked him about it and he denied it. The beer cans were getting too easy to find. The worst came when he moved from beer to vodka," I cried.

"Em," Niall said sympathetically, holding me closer.

"From the middle of eight grade on, it became hell. Vodka has no color or smell, so it's very easy to hide. He started to put it in with power aid. I started to see him drinking around the house. It would always be in the same spot until my mom found the spot. Then it would be somewhere else. I would see him going into the dinning room and once after school, I found the spot where it was. You know I've always been curious and I needed to know where it was. It was driving me crazy. I would almost always see him before my mom. I felt like I couldn't tell anyone about what I was seeing. So I didn't, not for six months or more. Once my mom figured out the power aid, he started to put it in water bottles. He always used the same brand of water, one thing that let me know when it was and wasn't alcohol. It killed me to keep all to myself. Nothing was the same around our house either. He was sleeping all the time, most of the time it was the whole weekend as well. The yard used to be cut every weekend. It became barely once every two or three. The cars used to be washed every weekend. It became maybe once a month, eventually becoming almost never. My mom had to start going through the car wash. The house wasn't as clean. He watched the telly and played on the computer so much more. He became addicted," the words hurt to say. I loathe the words alcohol and addicted now. "August before ninth grade, my mom, brother, and I went to my grandparents for 5 days before we went back because he got some help. A few weeks after returning home, the 3 of us started going to counseling. It helped a lot, I could finally talk to someone. About 3 or 4 weeks after starting therapy, we moved back in with my grandparents," I explained sadly. "There's more to it, but I don't want to talk about it right now," I finished.

"Thank you for telling me. I am so, so sorry. I wasn't there for you when you needed someone the most. I feel so bad for you. How did C.J. take everything that happened?" Nialler wondered.