Short Stories :P

{116} Perfect Too | Jun 15-20, 2023

A/n: I got lazy, haha, rlly took me five days to write. enjoyyy!!

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Italics is thoughts and memories

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TW: Mentions of alcohol, swearing and alcoholic parents

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Whenever I'm alone with my thoughts, I always seem to start thinking about things that are usually not even worth my time. But being in a quiet and empty room didn't seem to help at all.

Sometimes, when everything is just absolutely silent, and I'm laying on a bed with tired eyes and a still body that just wouldn't seem to move, I couldn't help but let these stupid thoughts flood in and corrupt my mind; these doubts and questions that I'd never want to ask myself.

Remember when you fell walking up to the stage in fifth grade?

Ooh, shouldn't have worn that shirt last week, yellow isn't your color.

I wonder if they still think about me. We were best friends. What happened?

If only Aaron and I could be together. Wait-- where is Aaron?

My dark eyes widened as all that happened last night came crashing into my head-- every moment that has occurred, every sentence that was uttered. I sat up from where I laid, looking around and realising that I wasn't in my room, and Aaron was not laying next to me anymore.

I sat on a stool in the local pub, lazily leaning my head on my fist, holding onto a bottle of beer.

Aaron was drunk-- again. He seemed to always be drunk. But could I blame him? I'd rather live through this treacherous life through a drunken haze rather than be sober as well.

But I swore to myself to never become an alcoholic. I would never be a deadbeat dad to my future kids, making them mature too fast to take care of a broken man that couldn't even become better for them. That I would never become my parents.

Which is also why I never liked it when Aaron got drunk. It's never fun seeing the only person you care about anymore, that only person you still love-- living life as if they were hanging off a cliff. I've tried stopping him, but that only seemed to push him away; and I didn't want to lose him, in fact, I've always feared it. So the best I could do anymore was to just simply be there.

I guess I never felt like I was doing enough-- that I could still help him, that I am just a selfish coward if I didn't do more.

Turning my head around, I saw Aaron walking over to me, having to hold onto furniture he went past to not fall. I could barely keep a straight gaze even if I was sober-- he just looked too much like my parents, with the unbalanced walk and drunken smile; slurs of affection that I never got when they weren't intoxicated.

When he finally arrived in front of me, the boy tripped and fell onto me as I quickly wrapped my hands around his scrawny waist, digging my fingers into his skin.