June 1, 2016
Alex's P.O.V
99.1(it's a country station) is playing really low on Dad's radio. He's quiet forthe first few minutes of the drive, then he breaks the silence saying, "Hey, uh, Alex- um, y-your mother, uh, and I are-ah, w-worried about you."
I look at him. He's sweating and
he looks like a complete mess. "What? Why are you talking like there's an iron rod up your ass?" I ask.
"Look, I know your mom is bitch and I know I'm not very nice either. We just want you to be safe." He says.
"Safe? What's that supposed to mean?" I ask.
"Alex, the Devil is strong right now and you're young. He speaks to the youth through music and television." He says.
"Oh my God! Are you serious? Do your really think I'm scared of that shit?" I say.
"Alex, we want what's best for you!" He yells.
"Do you want to find my lifeless body hanging in the back of my closet?" I ask.
"Alex! You know I don't want that! You just need it not listen to that music! It's making you suicidal! If you would've never gotten into that shit you wouldn't be depressed like you are!" He says.
"Really? You're blaming my depression on my music? How fucking stupid are you? If you're happy I'm not dead, don't thank God, thank music. You and Mom are the reason I'm like this!" I yell. He doesn't say anything else, he just starts to cry then stops.
We pass familiar stores and restaurants and houses on the way to Richard. I'm so bored of this place. It's nothing but assholes, country music, and swamps. Ugh.
When we finally reach ACC, there's a shit ton of vehicles there. Dad parks the truck and gets my suitcase for me and we head into the main building. It has a huge ass sign on it. The sign reads, 'ACC, let go and let God.'
Inside there are three booths. At one booth there is Mr. Way. At another is Mrs. Way, and at the other there is a tall guy with brownish hair and glasses. It's pretty obvious that he doesn't want to be there.
"Go make some friends," Dad tells me. "I'll go sign you up and stuff."
-s-o-r-r-y--I-t-s--s-o--s-h-o-r-t-
