The Grean Household

39: Descent In To Apathy

Her body was never the same after aborting the forced life inside her uterus. 

Emma bled for months, bending over in pain as a cramp grabbed her attention. Though, it seemed that Alex didn't notice- he never seemed to notice her agony whereas he did before.

Emma began to note how he was acting. She knew that their home was a place they would rather leave and that was what Alex was doing, sometimes never coming home. But when he did, Emma could see it on his face. A euphoria he felt before he had to return back to the house, the place where there was no concern for his well being. There was no concern for either of them. Emma was close to college, knowing that she should be preparing, but she spent her day worrying if Alex would come home that night.

The times he did was when she felt some sort of relief, but that was before she started seeing more bottles of beer disappearing from the fridge. Her father wasn't close to getting cleaned up, nor was he close to caring. 

Every day, Emma would take a seat in that chair near the window as if to conjure up the exact same feelings Willow felt when she was waiting for their mother to come home. Only there was hope and the good possibility that Sarah would come back during that time. Emma came to understand that there was no possibility for them. There was no chance: they were alone, completely deserted in a void of despair.

Emma would look in the mirror, wondering if the reason for her mother's absence was because of her father. She wondered if she resembled some piece of him and that made Sarah stay away, because her mother would somehow feel physically disgusted with what Emma couldn't control.

She had no say or control in her situation, yet she tried to get as much control as she could. Scraping together options like they were pennies on a sidewalk. Every night was a silent stare up at her ceiling, her eyes burning and body tired from her tears.

But Alex seemed dismissive, and she was now figuring out why. 

Emma was looking for him. Alex wasn't answering any of her calls nor texts, and she wondered if he was in the house but asleep. So, in an attempt to find him, she creaked open his door. At first, it was darkness. Pushing it open a little more, she noticed a bottle on the floor. Then, she turned the light on, mouth falling open at the piles of empty bottles of booze and cash with white powder in the middle of the greenery.

Oh no... 

She thought, jaw clenching as she quickly turned his light off and shut his door.

It was when Alex arrived home two days later did she finally see what he failed to hide from her. His body was warping in a way that almost balanced out what the drugs were taking from him. Excessive booze gave him weight, but his young body seemed to hide it. Though, Emma could see it in the way he stumbled, how he held his head, groaning, jaw clenched.

When he walked into his friend's room, the strong smell of weed in the air, his friend would yell at him to shut the door, to keep the fumes in. He told Alex to sit, then offered him the joint, his eyes bloodshot. 

Will it taste gross...? Alex had asked, gingerly taking it, staring at the way it burned.

Shut up and take it. 

Alex did as he was told, slowly being eased into the new kinds of euphoria. His friend, along with the other kids he was associated with would gather up in an abandoned garage and smoke, it was either weed or a drug that was "top tier shit." The air was a disgusting mix of cannabis fumes and the sweet berry of a deathly drug.

Isn't that-? Alex pointed at the lovely swirls of this new drug he had previously learned about. At first, he felt fear, than intrigue.

  Don't worry. It's harmless- The guy smoking huffed, coughing up a cloud of pink. Alex noticed that there were small crystals, making the smoke a shimmering facade of an alluring dance. It seemed like confetti- a celebration of their using- a party that smelled sweeter than citrus.

Now, when Alex found himself downing alcohol because he thought it'd make his friends like him more, he noticed how he began to like the taste and the looseness of his body. He'd trip over sidewalks and cackle as he fell to the pavement. His friends, high off their asses, would wheeze, ending up tripping on their own feet. They would laugh, ending up all on the pavement.

Alex found himself taking shots, people cheering, girls rubbing up on him. A partiers life that he didn't want to end, because when it did, he felt like the world itself crashed onto him. That's when he'd come home, hungover and feeling like his insides were being pierced with crystals from that sweet stench they smoked.

Emma was waiting for him at his door, arms crossed. Alex stumbled into the hallway, eyes squinting, his body hunched. 

"What?" He groaned.

"Do you want to explain something to me?" Emma noticed how he still seemed drunk, or maybe high. Perhaps both. 

"Shit-what?" He slurred. 

"I don't have anything to hide." Alex grumbled, a sideways smirk on his face as he straightened. His stomach was doing backflips, almost urging him to vomit, but he held the puke in, huffing.

Emma pushed his door open, and turned on the light, revealing the bottles he was stealing from their father. It was a mess, his dark blankets draped onto the floor, bottles spilling brown liquid onto his carpet. The smell was worse. Alex scoffed, going into his room. Emma still had her arms crossed, her eyes suddenly widening.

"What are you doing?" She said. Alex grumbled gently, flopping himself onto his bed. 

"Sleeping."

"Do you not understand how serious this is, Alex?" Emma clenched her jaw, watching as Alex turned his head to her, that sideways smirk of someone high on his face. 

"Yeah." He said simply, eyes starting to gloss. 

"I just don't care."

"Alex." Emma sounded incredulous, eyes wide as she stared at her younger brother. 

"What do you want me to do, Emma?" Alex sounded like he was sobering up. She could tell by the groans and the touches to his head, his body jolting with the migraine starting to take to his dying mind. 

"There's nothing for me. Why not have fun while I fail?" She took steps forward, grabbing him by his collar, sitting him up. Alex grabbed her wrist, forcing her away from him. 

"You can make something out of yourself-!"

"I can't!" Alex growled, looking up at his sister. 

"I'm not going anywhere. Not a university. Not community college. I'm going to stay right here." Emma shook her head, covering her mouth, staring at her brother. She breathed out shakily, clenching her jaw, avoiding his gaze for a second. 

"What about your dream?" Emma asked, trembling, looking back at her brother who simply tilted his head, looking at her as if she were stupid. Alex's dream, if Emma could remember correctly, was a passion to help people. He wanted to be a nurse, or maybe a doctor, but he could never decide, he just knew he wanted to help with the power of medicine.

"Dreams die, Emma." He said simply, shaking his head. Emma nodding, breathing through her teeth. With no other patience to try and talk him out of his failure, she turned on her heel and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Alex sat there, staring at the door. There was the remaining residue of his old self. The one who would run after her and would promise he'd change. The only thing stopping him was that he knew he could never keep up to the promise. 

Laying back down, Alex huffed, closing his eyes. His routine, get up and go party again, was on repeat. It was a cycle, always ending in a sleep that felt like heaven, then a morning that felt even better. If failure felt better than success there was no reason to stop. Alex huffed gently, knowing there was no point in prolonging the inevitable. 

Might as well have fun until I die.