Alphabetical Order

Chapter One

September

"I'm confused."

"Confusion is difficult, it makes our brains spin out of control. Our emotions are what tell the story. What is your heart feeling?"

"I don't know honestly, It just all feels bad," I confess, chewing on my fingernails as I speak.

"Well we need to know what exactly feels bad when it comes to him," She sighed and gave me a sad smile, "I'm afraid that's all our time for today Honey."

We agreed to meet next week at our usual time, and I gave her a small hug before I departed for my car. For the past two years, I have come here once a week to talk about my problems, and yet nothing ever gets better in my mind. Laura, my therapist, would beg to differ stating I am a transformed woman since the day we first met. If you ask me, I'd tell you I think she's lying.

I pull out of the parking lot of her tiny office and head home.

***

I pull my old beat-up car into my driveway. I make sure to take a deep breath before exiting. What may lay behind my front door is never promised.  My house is not the largest on our street. It's a two-story old colonial-style home. The once-white siding is now turning brown, and the light blue window shutters are missing chunks of paint. On the upside, the lawn is well manicured and there are flowers planted in the front garden. As I step out of my car a cold breeze brushes against me. I shivered slightly as I had forgotten to bring my jacket. I followed the small rock pathway to the front door, pushing it open.

Noise erupts from inside, as yelling and music fill my ears. I hung my keys on the rack beside the door.

"You don't fucking understand shit, you're fucking ungrateful." I overheard my father spit,  slurring his words ever so slightly.

"And you're a fucking drunk with abusive tendencies-"

As I peered into the kitchen, Both my sister, Bella, and my father were standing across from each other. I walked into the room interrupting my sister's sentence.  The tension could be sliced with a knife, and my presence makes their bickering come to an awkward standstill. No one speaks as I lay my bag on the table in front of me.

The kitchen was a disaster, as it usually was. The cabinets were opened, beer bottles were in the sink, and the white tile flooring was stained a brownish-yellow color. The exterior of my home does not reflect the revolting interior that I live in. You can practically feel the years of dirt and damage the second you step inside.

"Sorry Ava, I didn't realize you'd be home so soon," My sister breaks the silence first. I only nodded my head in acceptance since this happened nearly every day, and I was getting bored of the apologies. They argue over mundane subjects. Bella will get mad that he's a drunk piece of garbage, and my father will get mad that there are no more beers in the fridge. I learned at a young age to simply not interact with my deadbeat dad, and he usually leaves me alone. Bella however, is still learning.

"Can you believe this bitch? Fuckin calling me a drunk. Ha! It's funny," My dad slurs again walking toward the fridge and rummaging the insides for any type of alcohol he can throw down his throat. He does not greet me, or acknowledge my presence. He just simply pulls more things from the fridge until he finds what he wants.

I look at my sister as he continues his rampage, she's biting her nails violently with her back pressed against the cabinet. "Why do you bother?" I question her quietly hoping Dad won't hear me and lose it. But who am I kidding? He's breaking everything in that fridge just by the sound of it.

"I dunno, he pissed me off," Bella sighs, pulling out her phone and sending a quick text before looking back at me. "This shit is getting really old."

"Yeah well, just wait till you can transfer schools. Then you will be in some rich neighborhood, taking exams and leaving this poor excuse of childhood behind."