Okay guys so this story is now taking in the mothers POV. And just to let you know the father is still ‘telling’ the story. It will change PROV’s from the main characters every now and then.
Enjoy!!
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Airadeen’s POV
I grabbed my father’s empty beer bottle, and placed it among the others. Rows and rows of boxes of beer barricaded our tiny living room. I returned to my father, only to see he was passed out, once again.
“Dad!” I shouted, shaking his shoulder.
A snort came out of his stubble covered mouth, due to not shaving in about a week. I rolled my eyes and grabbed a blanket to cover him with knowing that he would freeze. As much as I hated my dad, I couldn’t help seeing him hurting.
I’m leaving for work!” Knowing there wouldn’t be an answer, even if he was awake, I walked through the shitty door into the cool rainy air of London.
Since I can’t afford a car I had to use the city bus every day. With the ground being wet, walking to the bus stop proved to be a challenge for my habit of falling. Turned out that when I got to the bus stop, I was moments away from missing my bus. It was a good thing I didn’t too, because I was one late day away from losing my job.
I took my regular seat in the back looking at the variety of people. Even though it was early in the morning, there seemed to always be a fair amount of people. From 60 year olds making their way to church, to 16 year olds going to school. Or going a drug deal. Depends on the neighborhood. And in this case, probably a drug deal.
“Hey, you got a-a-a c-c-cigarette?” I heard a raspy voice beside me say.
“No” I replied, not taking my eyes off the window.
“Don’t fuck with me, every s-s-single o-o-one of you little basterd kids have some” The man beside me growled, getting angrier with every word.
I turned to him; he looked about 45 with a scrawny figure and propionate cheekbones sticking out. His hair was brown in some patches, but mostly grey. All in all, he looked sick.
“Really sir, I don’t have any. I don’t smoke” I said as calmly as possible, hopefully he would give up.
His eyes narrowed with anger, as he grabbed my blouse collar, pulling me too close for comfort to his face.
“I’m not fucking around” He whispered, spitting in my face as he spoke.
“Neither am I!” I yelled, punching where I thought was his stomach, but I missed and hit him in the balls.
He immediately let go of my collar, crouching down to catch his breath. I stood up moving away from his disgustingly smelled body and took a seat back in my chair.
