Killer Loan {Completed}

           I live in Tinkersville, Ohio where the grass is green and you can’t take two steps out of your house without someone walking by and saying hello to you. I guess that is what you get when you’ve been born and raised in a small town. You know your neighbors and having a stranger ride into town is as scandalous as having Billy Franks’ son move to New York, as he did last year.

In this town nothing exciting truly happens, so everyone sorta relies on gossip to keep them thinking that their life is better than their next door neighbors. Gossip is what people in this town feed on and much to my dislike my family is the main topic of discussion.

After all what is better to talk about to your friends, how Mrs. Sails got a new dog or how the Moss’ are dealing with the loss of their mother and wife?

I try to tune them out and focus on my studies. I’m a senior in high school this year. I’d like to think mother would be proud I made it this far. Seeing as half my family, including my father and brother dropped out before they even reached their sophomore year of high school. I like to also believe that my dad’s low education is not the reason he doesn’t have a job, but just the mere fact that he is recovering from the loss of my mother.

Sitting up in bed, I looked at my alarm clock. It was eleven thirty on a Saturday, which means that my plans to really sleep in were not happening. Ripping the thin blanket off of myself, I dashed to the bathroom located next to my room. Once in, I flicked on the light. Glancing in the cracked mirror I saw that my raven black hair was getting long. I smiled, I wanted it long ... because that is the way mother wore her hair, long and wavy. Though, much to my dismay I think I got my straight and flat hair from my father’s side. Zooming in more into the mirror I tried to look at myself in a non-cleft part of the mirror. Grinning I noticed that my skin was flawless today and my green eyes were as vibrant as always. Sighing, I stood up straight and got ready for the day.

I’d a Cheshire cat grin when I strolled into the living room. Yet, it twitched down into a frown when my eyes danced over the living room. Empty bottles littered the room ... Each one hinted that my father’s attempt to get a job yesterday was a failure. Glancing around the messy living room, I sighed. I’d just cleaned this room the other day. Yet, looking around the egg shell colored walls and white carpet room; I couldn’t help but feel it was all in vein.

Taking a few steps, I entered the sunshine yellow kitchen. I saw more tempered glass bottles laying on the baby blue plastic counters, only this time a few contained amber liquid.

Releasing a low growl, much to myself, I raced over to the kitchen counter tops and grabbed all the bottles in sight. Juggling them in my arms, I went over to the sink. One by one I placed them in the stained sink, upside down. All while I shed tear after tear.  

Father was killing himself, ever since my mother was murdered. Day in and day out Dad would drown himself in alcohol as if it would ease his pain and somehow make the heartless killer of my mother be found. I knew he had a problem, heck everyone in the whole town knew he had a problem … but no one, including myself said a word to him.

“So, the dead do rise,” I proclaimed as my dormant brother, Johnny, sluggishly strolled in.

Giving a groan, he looked at me.  “It’s too early to speak to me.”

“I had a dream,” I told him hoping to strike a conversation with him.