Love In Actuality

14: Kyree

I woke up the next morning still replaying the previous night’s events as I

had a billion times since I’d said bye underneath the porch light. I smiled and

sighed before deciding that somebody had to be responsible in this house and

get all the work done. Unfortunately, that person was me. What a crappy life- butit was my life, and it had to get done. I grudgingly rolled off my bed that was

practically just a mattress on the floor and made my sluggish way to the kitchen.

From there I saw that Elle was sitting on the couch with a bottle, nonetheless.

When she heard me in the kitchen, her slurred voice called out to me, “Girl, make

me some breakfast.”

I knew she would never get off her butt, so really there was no point in

being afraid to talk back to her. Nothing could hurt me worse than I had hurt

myself. “What am I, your personal slave? Here’s an idea- put the darned bottle

down and do it yourself.”

“Girl, I give you food and a roof, and this is the way you repay me? By

sassing your own auntie?” She took another swig and I had to struggle to make

out the next sentence she uttered, “You got a cold heart, girl.”

“Elle, you are a alcohol addict. I don’t feel the least bit bad for you.” I

started scrubbing the egg pan, knowing that I would make enough for both of us;

like I always promised myself I wouldn’t do and did anyways. It happened the

same way almost every day. 

What didn’t happen every day was Elle actually making the effort to come

over and yell at me personally. Huh. She must still be somewhat sober. “You

think you’re better than me, girlie? Huh? Do you?” she spat in my face as I

winced away from her breath. “’Cuz you wrong, girl. We in the same boat. We

both losers, nobody loves us. And nobody loves us for a reason, girlie. Lemme

tell you one thing- we both failures in life. We all alone out here and all we can do

is fight for ourselves in this world. Drinking works for me. You, girlie, need to

figure out what works for you, ‘cuz all you have is yourself. Nobody wants you.”

I didn’t reply but rather scrubbed the pan harder in my frustration. After a

few seconds she got bored with me and went back to the television, but it was

weird between us now. Everything she had said, it was all right. Hurtful, but right.

Everybody left me- even my family. People only went on pity-dates with me. I

wasn’t pretty. I barely had any friends. And, on top of that, I lived in this crap-hole

of a place with an addict. Even the addict didn’t want me. Why did I even pretend

to be happy? Nothing was worth it. My eyes wandered over to the knife that wason the counter…it would be so easy, so quick…but half of my brain refused to

think such thoughts. 

That was the half of the brain that dealt with everything Aaron. 

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