Revive (Book Two)

Chapter 31: Roulette

Please comment your thoughts to motivate me♥️

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I was sitting in the yellow-brown wooden chair at the kitchen table with my forearms at my knees, staring at the front door. I had a smoke in my mouth that was burning grey an inch in front of my eyes. I had a large bottle of unopened whiskey along with two glass cups.

My father walked in the door and seemed to be doing a lot better than when he first arrived to the hospital days ago. He slammed the door shut and looked forward, right to my emotionless state. His eyes widened only slightly, but I could tell he was surprised of my visit.

"Hey dad," I casually spoke and put the cigarette between my two fingers. "Wanna play a game?"

We had been sitting at the table across from each other for what felt like fifteen minutes now. He had won only one round, which caused him another opportunity to go again. I let him win though, I wanted him to feel like he had a chance, and I wanted to feel the pain of when I was younger.

The rules were simple.

Whoever initiated the game, goes second. The person gets to inflict one thing on the other person of their choice. If the person receiving the punishment flinches, they lose and have to suffer through another round. If there is no flinching or reaction, you win the round and celebrate with a drink, then get a turn to inflict a punishment on the other person. The game ends when you're too drunk for it to be enjoyable, tap out from being too weak to play, or the bottle of booze is empty.

He started light, as he normally did. So far, he has been able to pinch me so hard on my arm that his fingernails almost pierced through, and have my knuckles face the table, having him whip a coin across the table and hit directly on the bones where my wounds were. I won the first play, allowing myself a turn on him, but flinched on the second.

Considering I flinched at the coin knocking into my scabbing skin, I had lost the round, giving him another chance to try something else on me.

"Go on," I nodded my head towards him, allowing him to continue. I wasn't in pain, I was ready.

He took a shot of whiskey and smiled. Taking out a lighter from his pocket, he motioned for my arm to hover above the table. He slid the lighter under my arm and flicked the fire open. The flame touched my skin, having me very close to flinching but I was stronger than the pain and decided that it was my turn. He lifted the flame higher to my skin and I refrained from letting out any form of noise.

State of mind, state of mind, I kept repeating to myself.

Ten seconds went by, but it felt much longer. I glared deep into his emerald eyes, emotionless while he had his fun. He flicked the lighter closed and I lowered my arm onto the table and slowly brought it back to my side.

"Not bad," He muttered and slid the whiskey bottle towards me. "But that one never got you," He admitted.

I opted for a swig from the bottle rather than my cup.  "You used to use my skin as an ashtray," I commented and took another sip. "When you've been burned enough times with the end of a cigarette, you stop reacting to the pain." I set the bottle down and assessed my burnt, bubbly arm.

She's going to question me on this one.

"Ah, but you admit it still hurt, boy."

I smirked and lit my own smoke. "Only human." With the smoke still in my mouth and burning in front of us, I reached over and had him place both of his palms flat on the table. I inhaled a new grey breath and exhaled in front of his face, then placed my fingers in front of his. "Ready?"