Empathy or Lack Thereof

Rough Night

Slime would be lying if he said that all he had at that party was alcohol and weed. To be honest, he didn't know what kind of drugs he took, but what he did know was that whatever it was fucked him up. He barely managed to get home thanks to some vague person who realized he was dangerously intoxicated and drove him home, then he fell asleep in the closet he'd been sleeping in for the past few years.

All he knew was that whatever he took knocked him out for several days. He only woke up to his daughter shaking him aggressively with big teary eyes. Charlie's body ached, but he was more worried about his lovely Juanaflippa.

"What's wrong, Flippa?" Charlie croaked, voice hoarse because he hadn't drank anything in so long. She hugged him, crying. "Flippa? I am sorry, did I scare you? I am ok, hey, don't cry..."

Gently, he patted her back, looking around the dimly lit closet. There were blankets and a pillow on the floor, all messed up and smelling like alcohol. Clothes hung from hooks above them and it looked like one of the jackets had been knocked down on the makeshift bed.

He hadn't slept in a bed in a long time, his bitch wife was adamant about not sleeping in the same bed as him and Charlie was always too tired to argue. Plus, being a mob hybrid, he liked sleeping in dark cold places. But then, at the thought of Mariana, he realized something.

"Juana, where is Mariana?" Charlie asked. It was far too quiet and yet too early for Mariana to have gone to work. Juanaflippa looks at him with watery eyes and shakes her head. "Wait, is he gone? Has no one been taking care of you in god knows how long?!"

She nodded. Charlie's face twisted in horror. What the hell?!

"Oh my god! Flippa, I am so so sorry! I thought Mariana was taking care of you." Charlie said. "Oh my god, you must be starving."

Once again, she nodded. Charlie felt guilt and anger rising in his chest. He got up on trembling legs and hurried to the kitchen, Juanaflippa following him.

Charlie felt guilty that his daughter had been on her own hungry and alone for the past several days. But at the same time, he felt unbelievably angry at his wife. Did he really look at Slime and go 'Oh, my husband is passed out! Perfect time for me to leave our fucking daughter to fend for herself and go who the fuck knows where!' Just by LOOKING at Slime, you'd be able to tell he was fucked up on everything under the sun, so why would he leave Slime alone with their kid when he was too high to tell his left hand from his right hand?!

He took a breath and pushed the anger away. For now. All he could do was get food for them.

But when he started opening cabinets and the fridge, he swiftly realized they had nothing to eat. In the back of the fridge, there was a tub of marinara sauce and some mustard. That was it. Oh, and the marinara sauce turned out to be expired upon inspection. Just fucking great.

"Uh... no food..." Charlie mumbled. He grabbed a cup and filled it with sink water, at least that hadn't been turned off yet, and drank the whole thing before going for a second glass. Slime hybrids dehydrated easily.

When he was done drinking, he looked over at Juanaflippa who was watching from the doorway. What was he supposed to do? He had no money and no job, Mariana was the only one who worked in the household and he was missing currently.

"Go get your shoes on, Flippa," Charlie said, giving her his best smile. It's all he could give her.

She nodded and went to her room. Charlie sighed and went to the bedroom, looking through the nightstand. He prayed that Mariana left his wallet and keys. He didn't.

Charlie cussed under his breath, slamming the drawer and crossing his arms. What the fuck was he supposed to do? What was he SUPPOSED to do!? He didn't want to beg for money or food, he hated begging and asking for help in general. But at this point, it started looking like the only option.