Whispering Pages

Consequences

Ethan sat in the dean's office, his mind racing with the events that had just unfolded. The door swung open, and his dad walked in, his face a mask of fury. "Ethan, get to the car and wait," he ordered, his voice tight with barely contained anger.

Ethan nodded silently, grabbing his backpack and heading out to the parking lot. As he sat in the car, he could see his dad through the window, deep in conversation with the dean and the coach. The stern expressions and animated gestures made it clear that the discussion was intense.

Sitting alone in the car, Ethan felt a wave of emotions crashing over him—guilt, frustration, and a deep sense of regret. He knew he had messed up, but John's cruel words still echoed in his mind, making it hard to think straight.

After what felt like an eternity, Ethan's dad finally emerged from the school, his expression still stern. He got into the car without a word, and the silence between them was heavy as they drove home. Ethan knew that the real conversation was yet to come, and he braced himself for the consequences of his actions.

When they arrived home, Ethan could feel the tension in the air. His dad walked straight to the kitchen, his movements sharp and purposeful. Ethan followed hesitantly, unsure of what to expect.

His dad opened a cabinet and grabbed a bottle of alcohol, unscrewing the cap with a shaky hand. Without a word, he began chugging it impulsively, the liquid disappearing rapidly down his throat. Ethan stood frozen, watching in shock and worry.

"Dad, what are you doing?" Ethan finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

His dad slammed the bottle down on the counter, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a mix of anger and despair. "Do you have any idea what you've done, Ethan? Getting into fights, getting me called out of work... What were you thinking?" he shouted, his voice echoing through the house.

Ethan felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he fought to keep them at bay. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. John said some really hurtful things, and I just lost it," he tried to explain, his voice trembling.

His dad took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "You need to learn to control your temper, Ethan. This can't keep happening," he said, his tone softer but still stern.

Ethan's frustration boiled over. "Oh, and drinking is how you cope with your problems? Great example, Dad!" he snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

His dad's eyes widened in surprise and anger. "Watch your tone, young man. This isn't about me—it's about you and your actions."

Ethan couldn't take it anymore. "Whatever," he muttered, storming upstairs to his room. He slammed the door behind him and threw himself onto his bed, grabbing his journal from the nightstand. He opened it and began to write furiously, pouring out his anger, confusion, and regret onto the pages.

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**Journal Entry - August 15, 2023**

Today was one of the toughest days I've had in a long time. It all started when I got into that stupid fight with John. I know I shouldn't have let his words get to me, but they did. They really did. And now, I feel like I've let everyone down, especially Dad.

When we got home, things went from bad to worse. Dad went straight for the bottle. Seeing him like that, using alcohol to cope, it broke something inside me. I tried to apologize, to explain, but he was so angry. I get it, he's under a lot of stress, but why does he have to drink? It's like he's not even trying to deal with things in a healthy way.

I couldn't hold back my frustration. I snapped at him, told him he was setting a terrible example. I know I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. His reaction was exactly what I expected—anger. He told me to watch my tone, like I'm the only one with issues here.

I stormed up to my room, slamming the door behind me. I needed to get away, to clear my head. Writing in this journal is the only thing that helps sometimes. I poured all my anger, confusion, and regret onto these pages. I don't know what to do or how to fix things with Dad. I just wish things could go back to the way they were before all this mess.

Why does everything have to be so complicated?

After writing in my journal, I decided to take a shower. I needed to wash away the stress of the day, even if just for a few minutes. The hot water felt good, almost like it was cleansing not just my body but my mind too. I stayed under the stream longer than usual, letting the warmth soothe my tense muscles.