Ungodly Addiction

Chapter 2 - Missing Pharmacy Bag

Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral. - Hebrews 13:4

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Awakened by the aroma of freshly prepared pancakes, I rolled onto my back, eager to taste them. Although I wished I had been revived by the scent of some crispy saltfish fritters, those pancakes really soothed my nostrils. Luckily, mom picked up extra Aunt Jemima's syrup during her grocery run yesterday. After all, pancakes aren't pancakes if they aren't swimming in syrup.

I stretched my arms and, as usual, cringed at the annoying creaks of my joints. Sometimes, all we need is a good stretch to shake off the laziness. As I rose from the sunken bed, memories from last night played vividly in my mind. The dress, the stillness, the destructive silence, and da—

"Oh my gosh, I slept without seeing dad!" I exclaimed with a dissatisfied groan. "I just hope they made up." My frown dropped to the floor.

I took a moment to realign my thoughts and, out of curiosity, surveyed the room. My phone and EarPods were neatly placed on the bedside table, and I was pretty sure I'd gone to bed listening to Drake and Rihanna working my eardrums. However, the absence of the pharmacy bag caught my attention.

"Where did I put it?"

I jumped off the edge of the bed, as if that would help my memory. I couldn't decide if I had left it in the kitchen or brought it into the bedroom after unpacking the food in the refrigerator. The uncertainty consumed me, a mix of concern and curiosity urging me to unravel the mystery of the missing pharmacy bag. 

Not long after, I devised a plan. I would pretend I knew mom had taken the bag from my room. She was dramatic but honest, so her reaction would surely clear up any uncertainty. Plus, she always thanked me, so if she said thanks, it would mean she had taken the bag.

"Mooom," I said, drawing out the word like a kindergarten kid. "You snuck into my room again, didn't you? I've got more for you this time. I hope they last."

She gave me a puzzled look before setting my pancakes down on the table, neatly stacked on my four-year-old plate with sliced ripe bananas and strawberries on top. She then tossed me the syrup from the fridge, and I drenched my pancakes in it.

"Thanks, mom."

"Goodness, your breath stinks! Please don't tell me you're going to eat like that," she scolded.

"Geez!" I wrinkled my nose and jokingly covered it with my finger. "Is it really that bad?"

She seemed to be her usual self, but I still didn't feel reassured. She also didn't thank me, so I figured she hadn't found the pharmacy bag.

I excused myself to the bathroom to freshen up, because apparently, I had a decaying corpse in my mouth. On my way out, I heard my phone beeping from inside my bedroom. Normally, I might have ignored it, but I had a feeling it might be dad.

I dashed into the room and saw that he had sent a brief message:

Good morning, baby girl. I need to speak with you about something important. Meet me at the park later at 6. Love you.

I decided not to tell mom immediately. I was confident they had made up and figured dad probably wanted to share some good news with me. But then I reconsidered—maybe I should ask her first.

I scratched my nose nervously. "Mom, about last night—" Suddenly, her phone rang, cutting off my question. She stepped back to answer it.

When she returned, a blushing smile was on her face. I figured dad must have called. In that moment, her smile became contagious, and I couldn't help but flash a wide grin myself. Realizing I was smiling, I stopped abruptly, thinking I must look like a lunatic grinning for no reason.