He was my Smoke,

Chapter three - Some macho dude-

Three:

When the man who supervised me for the last four months knocked on my room's door to inform me that my parents had arrived to pick me up, I was staring out of the window watching both of them sitting inside the car talking heatedly about something.

I sighed feeling a little disappointed, I thought they'd care that I was strong enough to go through the program in four months and be confident enough to not have my will falter.

I nodded at the African American man standing before me before attempting to carry my bags but he beat me to it," I want to walk you outside" he said with a soft smile and I couldn't help but smile back.

He was my emotional support in this place. He was always there for me when I threw up, had a bad stomach day ,felt like throwing up blood or simply hallucinated that the glass of water on the table along with the plate of spinach were just a type of drugs and alcohol.

"Thank you, Haroon" I said as I stepped out of the building that had accommodated me for months and became more of a home to me than the house I was returning to.

Haroon nodded and put my bags in the car as I threw a look at my parents to see if they were even looking. As I thought though, they weren't.

"If you ever need anything, you have to come and tell me" he said slowly throwing a look at my parents as well, I nodded with a soft smile on my face before hugging him. It was hard saying goodbye to the people who won a special place in your heart. Genuine goodbyes really do make the heart go colder with time.

"You are my big brother, Haroon. I have no brothers where I'm going" I mumbled next to his ear, he rubbed my back and whispered," I don't mind, I've already written you as my sister in the will"

I chuckled and broke away from him, he waved at me and I smiled as I stepped into the car.

The sudden change in atmosphere was so evident that I felt I wanted to choke. The car was cold because of the air-conditioner and my parents' attitudes compared to the warmth of outside. I shivered slightly as I noticed how goose bumps flashed across my arms.

The ride home was supposedly long and all the way there, I was thinking about my parents.

Why didn't they bother to say hello? Maybe ' we're proud of you, dear' or something relevant to that?

Why did they hate me, shouldn't parents love you no matter what?

Even though I wished I could scream at them, I knew that they were my parents and that I was still their girl who just got graduated from rehab. That's nothing to be proud of.

As we approached the house I cleared my throat," How are you?"

I could see my mother jumping slightly from fright with the sound of my voice and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Did they forget I was there already?

My father however, huffed before muttering," Good"

I smiled at his face in the mirror, at least he acknowledged my presence.

The rest of the ride went by so quickly and before I could realize, we were standing on the front porch waiting for any of my siblings to open the door. There was an echo of music erupting out of the house and I knew exactly the source.

Veronica must have invited that jerk of a boyfriend of hers, he was a rock star – according to his dreams- and he always moves around with his band around him. I once heard Veronica telling Dean – my brother- about how that boyfriend of hers actually missed their anniversary because his band was having a party. My parents hated the guy but they hid it because they 'trusted' Veronica.