late nights {Boris Pavlikovsky}

I

   may 19th friday

    Rain pattering against the window. Almost in rhythm with my heart, Tap, tap tap. I take a swig. Tap, tap, tap, and another. The warm liquid trickles down my throat, leaving behind a blooming warmth in my chest. I fucking hate it here, I hate him. The bottle shakes in my lap, a quarter empty. I set the intoxicating liquid down next to me on the floor and began to make my way to the bathroom. Stumbling through the halls I make it to my destination. After finding the light switch I look in the mirror seeing a ghost of my former self.

   "Jesus I look like shit"

    The bags under my eyes are dark purple, My lips are chapped, and my hair is brittle. They claimed the medication would help me sleep better, all it's good for is getting me drunker faster. Gracelessly I dig through the cupboards searching for some sort of relief. I can feel my heartbeat in my head and the pressure jabs my brain, a relentless headache. Finally, my fingers brush across the fimilar container, I pour four small red capsules into the palm of my hand and head back to my room down the hall. Once in the tiny dark room I pick the glass bottle off the floor and use it to chase the pills. I close my eyes and let out a sigh of relief, the room starts to ever so slightly tilt and spin. It's one-thirteen am, Thursday or I suppose Friday, May 19th. The latest I can sleep in is until seven. That should give me enough time to get ready for school, right?

    I lay on my mattress for a good thirty minutes just staring and yet sleep never came. I sat up and reached towards my school bag and pulled out my mom's pack of cigarettes that "mysteriously" went missing. I pull one out at random and then for the lighter on my bedside table. I shuffle over to my window where I move my loose and crooked screen to the side just enough to prop my hand through. I light the cigarette and take a long, deep drag. The slightly stimulating buzz gets sent to my brain resulting in me bobbing my head a little. If I'm being honest with myself I may have gone a little too far. This isn't necessarily enjoyable, it's more or less a distraction. As the minutes pass the more my head spins.

    "Fuck me"

    I worked towards finishing my cigarette when I ultimately heard a car door slam then the front door burst open.

    "Shit, shit, shit"

    My window faced the driveway meaning he most definitely saw me. I stub the stick out on my window seal. Large steps boomed throughout the eerily quiet house. Frantically I rushed to hide the pack and the glass bottle, perhaps making too much noise in the process. He's walking in the hall, maybe even in front of my bedroom door ready to pounce. The warm comforting fuzzies in my chest are rapidly replaced by the intense needles of fear. My door is abruptly and harshly swang on its hinges. My stepdad comes barreling towards me. The harsh and never-forgiving scent- of liquor and smoke never leaves. My mouth becomes dry and my stomach twists.

     "What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Ronnie, my stepfather screamed. His voice was so loud it shook the house. His rough worked hands reach towards my hair,, pulling and tugging. Tears began to well up in my eyes, threatening to leak from my flushed face. I hid the evidence behind my back.

    "N-nothing sir." I internally cursed myself for stuttering as if it wasn't blatantly apparent I was petrified of this man.

    "Nothing? Really! You want to try again because I was pulling up after a long day at the airport, excited to see my perfect family and guess what I see!?" he pulled harder, making it so I had to stand on my tippy toes.

    "What s-sir," I say practically trembling in my socks.

    "Some low-life whore smoking out the window. Then I realized It was coming from my house! And that low-life whore is my wife's Degenerate daughter. Are you not happy here? Do I not do enough for you? I do so much for this family and yet you still make me out to be the bad guy. Do you know how you make me look to the people in this town? A travesty, Yeah that's right. They look at me and think of this stupid cunt who would rather sit and fry her brain cells than set an example for her family. Do you want me to kick you and your mom back out on the streets where I found you? It would sure as hell make my life easier!" Ronnie yelled

    "We never lived on the streets," I mumble under my breath.

    "The fuck did you just say?"

    "Nothing" I defend

    "Sounds like back talk to me, and you know what happens when you disrespect me in my house!"

    I would rather not think about what happened after that was said. Around three am he finally left. I need to get the fuck out of here.
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840 words
L

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