POLAROIDS︱18+

Two

FAITH

After that class I just wanted to get home, bundling up my books and throwing them in my bag quickly to sort later as I rushed through the leisurely crowds of kids swarming the halls. I knew he would take great pleasure in driving all the way here just for me to be a minute late and drive home, leaving me to walk whether it be raining, snowing, or burning hot outside.

I pushed my way outside, speeding past the people in my way and went straight for the back left corner of the carpark, the furthest away from the school gates and the hardest to get to within Dean's five-minute rule. When I got to the car, he rested his arm out the window with a smouldering cigarette between his fingers, sunglasses pulled down over his eyes and greasy hair that hadn't been washed in at least a week.

I hated this car, always smelling like old cigarettes, junk food and mold, it was worse than gross, it was God-damn feral but for some unforsaken reason, it was his pride and joy. One of the only things to his name so it made sense I suppose. As much as he loved it, I was glad he parked as far away from all the other students as possible as it gave people one less thing to tease me about if they didn't see me getting into a car like his.

The hair on the back of my neck stuck to my skin as a cool layer of sweat coated my back, please don't be cruel today, for once just let me have this. He looked down at his watch then back at me.

"Are you getting in?" He asked impatiently and I quickly rounded the car, slipping into the passenger's seat as the backseat was full of rubbish and boxes full of things that I wasn't supposed to know about. I knew he dealt drugs, it was obvious at this point. Our mother had been using them for long before he started dealing and neither her, nor my brother would stop as long as he had access.

He drives silently for a little while, the drive home was only twenty minutes but, on the days I exceeded his five-minute rule I was forced to walk the hour and a half long treck just to arrive at the house and be ripped into about how dinner wasn't on the stove and how I should learn to be on time.

Let's just say I don't miss the car much anymore.

We finally pulled into the drive, his car coming to a stop in the carport, you could hardly even call the structure a carport anymore as it was rotting so badly. The whole house was in bad shape honestly. The framing of the place from inside out was waterlogged and leaking, there were multiple smashed windows that we couldn't afford to have fixed because as well as you'd think drug dealing would pay, it's much worse. All the furniture was either from generations ago or picked up off the side of the road and brought back despite not being anywhere near good quality.

"I had a call from your chemistry teacher after school today, Faith. Do you know what he told me?" That mother fucker. My breathing picked up as I stared as the brick wall of the house that backed onto the carport, Dean's hand snaking its way up around the back on my neck as my body went rigid.

"I- I can explain, I swear to you it wasn't as bad as he would have made it sound..." I whimpered, his fingers digging into the sides of my neck from behind as I refused to look him in the eyes.

He scoffed, his grip once again tightening and cutting off my blood supply. I tried to keep breathing through the now pain and pressure of his hold but it was getting to much. I reached for his arm and shoved him off me, turning my body to shield my throat as I panted and let the blood recirculate to my brain and back.

"Inside, now. It's too public out here." He glanced around the neighbours' properties to make sure no one would see my reddened face and neck when we got out of the car. Nobody would see and even if they did, they probably wouldn't care. We didn't live in the nice, rich, built-up part of town. No, instead I pulled the short straw and was born to a poor, desperate family full of addicts who had never lived another way.