Lydia

[07]

Love the song above! Colors by Halsey
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WARNING*- Mature content, including vulgar language, talks/ attempts of suicide, and trigger themes.

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Jabbing a key into a tiny keyhole was a grueling effort especially when you're drunk off you're ass.

After what seemed like hours of a pounding headache and silent giggles caused by inappropriate thoughts of keys, Finn finally managed to successfully open the door to his house.

He was surprised he didn't manage to lose the key somewhere in the midst of his night out.

Finn stumbled into his house with a tequila stained tongue and a smile so bright that it put the sun to shame.

He made his way towards the dark kitchen as his red rimmed eyes rolled back lazily.

The air no long smelt of whiskey and pure maliciousness that it usually smelt of because for some reason Finn hadn't seen his father in weeks. 

But now as Finn stumbled into the house the air filled with the tequila that stained his tongue.  Lavender that surrounded Lydia hours before now embraced Finn's aura.

Finn walked one step at a time as small creaking noises sounded from wood scraping against wood followed his every step.  Every step was more exhausting then the next and Finn's breath became heavier as he went on. 

After a couple of drunken falls and spontaneous giggles, Finn stumbled while tripping over his own shoes.

Although Finn felt utterly and completely drunk there was still a small voice that rung in the back of his mind making him feel like the kids that his mother despised.

Years ago when Finn still ate Cambell's soup and slept on a bed that looked more like a dirty mattress, Finn's mother always rocked back and forth on her rocking chair that sat on the front porch of their home.  She sat reading 'How To Kill A MockingBird' and with every page flipped she licked her fingers. 

Every night as she sat and read, a small black jeep rode through the neighborhood filled with drunken teens and forgotten dreams.  With whoops and hollers it was a surprise the whole town didn't wake up as they rode at full speed laughing and screaming as their hair flew through the wind.

Finn's mother never liked those kids.  She always stormed back inside the small home after slamming her book closed.  Her cheeks were red and her eyebrows were scrunched but when she turned and saw her small seven year old son sitting on the ground with a toy race car in his hand and a Capri-Sun in the other, her expression softened.

'Never become one of those kids, okay?' She would say and Finn would nod and kiss his mother's cheek.

But now as Finn lie in his bed he felt like one of those kids that his mother never wanted him to be.

He felt like he had let his mother down and normally Finn would cry; he would break down at the thought of his mother's disapproval. 

But instead Finn giggled a little, too drunk to really think the situation through.

He smiled with a laugh before turning over and falling asleep with the bitter taste of alcohol in his throat and the sent of caramel covering his hoodie.