Zib's Kid

Chapter 11

Leo was saying something, but Zib couldn't process it.
He just stood there, looking at the door.
When he finally snapped out of it and walked into the street, looked around... They were nowhere to be seen.

As he walked back home, that moment repeated itself in his mind.
That terrible woman's ire turning away from the kid and towards him for just one moment.
Rocky's little face as he reached for him, called his name, crying.
Being dragged away.

He felt this pressure all over him, from inside, especially in his chest, throat and head. He felt sick to his stomach.
He felt like a traitor as he walked home.

By the time he got home he was feeling a lot more calm, more numb. His mind had been running on autopilot and now he thought he could think... But then he was greeted by the mess of his house.
And silence.

Books, notebooks and papers all over the place, small pieces of messy clothing on a pile, kids' drawings all over the walls.

The pressure exploded somewhere in his chest and came out as anger. He felt betrayed. He felt stupid.

He had bought the crocodile tears of a child! He had been so easily tricked into giving up his home and his lifestyle for a little brat who didn't really need him, he was just being difficult. He really thought he was doing something good, so good by taking him in. Turns out he had been keeping him from his family, and now...

Now his messed up, miserable, lonely life was crashing down on him all over again, all at once.

He hated it. He hated himself, he felt like...

Stupid stupid STUPID

He ripped off all the drawings from the walls, leaving only the nails and holes, crushed them in his hands as he beelined towards the trash can.
...And then he saw them, held in his hand above it, and he couldn't bring himself to throw them away.
So weak. So stupid.

He threw them on the floor with ire. The papers slipped and fluttered all around him, and he couldn't take it anymore.
He went out.
He practically ran through the street.
And he didn't stop until he reached the speakeasy.

"Where's the kid?" asked Hernán when he saw him coming alone, but then he saw Zib's darkened expression and just let him through without asking questions.

Zib beelined for the bar and asked Jasper for a bottle of the strongest stuff he had.

"What happened?"
"Just give it here," he snarled. Jasper obliged.

Zib sat at one of the booths and started gulping down the stuff like he hadn't done so in years.
It wasn't enough. With a growl, he got up again and basically ran to the bathroom, where he prepared a generous serving of powder that he sniffed up his nose.

It hit him hard. He hadn't even tried the stuff in a long while. He stumbled for a moment, tasted the sensation, licked his nose, and saw his image in the mirror. He hated it.

He threw some water on his face and went back outside to keep drinking.

He woke up hours later, feeling like shit, crouched over the table, surrounded by bottles and glasses.
His head pounded, his throat was sore. His eyes were bothering him for some reason, and his nose felt... Weird.
He had that taste on your tongue when you've been sleeping too much after eating something you can't remember.
There was that familiar ache in his body, from not moving for too long.
And there was someone nudging him.

"Zib! ZIB! ZIIIIIB!"

He looked down to his side. Little Ivy Pepper stood to the side of the booth, looking up at him.