Stopwatch Children

Never Saw Anything

Never Saw Anything

How could this happen to me? He walked in behind his crying mother expression blank, she was clinging to him like she could protect him from what was happening. My mother's wails could be heard from the small kitchen as she cried for me.

Sure I was careless sometimes but for the most part no one ever saw anything. How could I be here now with everyone I love against me like a brick wall? How could I be standing here, all of them knowing my dirty little secret? I was good, I cleaned up my mess I didn't let any of them see when I did this to myself. How could they all be here telling me that I needed to stop, when none of them knew anything?

No one ever saw me spike my drink no one ever watched me take so much as a puff from even a cigarette. And Lord knows I've been doing much worse for much longer. They stand in front of me blurry and swaying-or is that just me? My parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins asking me to stop telling me I need help.

He smirked taking my cup from my hand.

"I thought we agreed this would be hard to explain if we go caught." He smiled taking a swig out of the cup that at one time was full of punch.

"I never asked you to join me." I watched as he coughed from the burn of alcohol.

He may be older but I had more experience breaking the rules. We stood in the kitchen at a family dinner, like every Sunday for as long as I could remember. Spiking my drink and sharing it with my only older cousin didn't become tradition until I turned sixteen almost four years later here we stand and my drink choice has just been getting stronger.

"Is this your dad's forty year old scotch?" He asked whipping his mouth with the sleeve of his white dress shirt. I looked at him my expression board as I sipped from the cup. His demeanor screamed no interest and his personality much like mine was quite dry unless you were with him as much as I was. I never wanted him and I to be as close as we are; even so young I knew what path I was headed for.

Four years and my habits are at their worst, I turned to refill the cup my vision taking a moment to catch up. He saw but never said anything, he never has. Out of all the years he would be the only one to ever be even close to knowing everything I do. He's seen the residue or crushed pills and needle marks but he fringes innocence. It was always a mistake when he saw anything. He sips from the cup again, I watch him in his Sunday dinner uniform wondering if he would ever tell on me. Remembering that morning just before church, him whipping the powder still on my nose and grabbing my arm in a certain way when our relatives were around, I shake my head ridding myself of the thought that should have terrified me.

My emotions were fired from the years of hard drugs, looking at him you would think he had no emotions to begin with. I went to hand him back the cup but I miss judged the distance and the cup fell. No one around us noticed but my hand still in the air shaking like a leaf made me experience my first emotion in quite some time.

". . . Can't hear us," My young cousin's voice drifts into my ears. "Stop being so stupid! Wise up and stop shooting that crap into your veins!" She yells her small frame shaking with anger her eyes tearing up.

I just stare blankly. No one says anything for a time. They all know as it's quite obvious now that I think, what's the point in hiding a cigarette? Half of them smoke anyways. I pull one out and that sparks attention as people leave the room crying and muttering angrily. I smoke with just one of my younger cousins left and the TV static in the background. We look at each other as I smoke; me waiting for the tears even some of my uncles shed.