Turning life around

Into the unknown

- Everything you will need is in there. 

My voice isn't as shaky as my hands on the door handle.

My parents and I agreed to spend a few days together. I guided them to the guest room and told them to shower and get rested. But don't be fooled, I'm not stupid enough to let them stay here for as long as they wish.

"Please stay close to their room... just in case", I whisper to Jake. "There's something I need to do."

He ignores what's on my mind, but that seems to be the least of his concerns, as he squeezes my hand briefly.  

Tears fill my eyes, but I quickly brush them off and hurriedly go up the flight of stairs to my room.

I hear Tina following me, but I don't mind it. To be honest, I could use her support.

We enter my bedroom and I immediately lock the door.

Tina and I change a look. She knows and understands what I'm doing.

Taking a deep breath, I make my way into my walk-in closet. I head to a specific storage space and open it. There are a few drawers inside, just under the clothes rack. I open the middle drawer, the one in which I put my pajama sets. I don't care about the mess that I make while searching for the key I have hidden. It's hidden in the folded pair of pants in the back.

Relief as well as fear and apprehension rush through me. And that odd mix of emotions spread goosebumps along my skin.

Nevertheless I split the line of hangers and clothes in the middle, revealing a dark silver safe I had carefully kept hidden. Using the key to open it, I then enter the code I have memorized by heart: the day I left my parents' house forever.

My heart beats loud and fast as my eyes go over the pile of envelopes stacked. I reach for two of the thicker ones, and empty their content on the wood. 

Piles of cash are looking back at me, and the nauseating feeling of familiarity suddenly bottles up in my throat.

If my teenage years taught me one thing: keep cash close, just in case.

I count the sum in front of me and once I check that it's the right amount, I put it back in the envelopes.

My grip over them is strong, so strong my knuckles turn white, and with my other hand I close the safe, lock it and put the keys away so everything looks normal again.

I can feel Tina watching me as I get out of the closet, and her expression reflects mine. A mixture of disgust, hatred, compassion and sadness.

I don't pay much more attention to it though, because I immediately move to my desk and create yet another mess searching around the drawers for flyers I am so sure I have stored somewhere.

With the help of my best friend, after spending a good ten minutes looking around, we finally find the file, in between old books binders I never use.

"This is the one", I whisper.

Tina hugs me from the side, as we both stare down at the flyer and other documents related to the rehabilitation facility.

"Bea... They said they haven't been using for a while... Are you- You're sending them off?"

Tina's whispers slash my skin.

I shake my head. "No. I'm not. Not before I know they're telling the truth. I know my parents, T. They showed up stoned to my grandpa's deathbed. No way I'm trusting them with their sobriety."

~~

I knock twice on the door and fling it open.

Oh.

My dad was smoking. Smoking pot.

"So you didn't quit after all", I say slowly.

I can't tell if I'm sad, disappointed or indifferent.

I close the door behind me and have a seat next to him on the border of the bed. Not too far, not too close, but a fair distance between us.

He simply sighs.

"Yeah, but I think you've already figured that out." His eyes get lost in thought. "You've always been a smart girl Beatrice. And for what it's worth... I don't blame you for leaving us."

Okay now I'm definitely surprised.

That was so out of the blue my eyes budge out of my head. 

- Where-Where does that come from? I mutter.

He simply shrugs, taking his sweet time to give me an answer.

"You made a... life, for yourself", he pauses. "You couldn't have had that in our house".

No shit Sherlock.

Before I get to say anything, my mom comes out of the bathroom and a weird smell swings the air. Her eyes are red, bloodshot, but although her hair is still wet, she's wearing dry new clothes that sit on her tiny skinny frame.

She smiles so wide I can see her yellow teeth and starts rambling about whatever. 

Her tongue slurs nonsense words, she walks funny, her hands tremble.

My heart breaks and I feel like I'm suffocating when I come to the obvious realization: they need fucking help, and immediately.