Good Enough

Slurred Words

     My dad drove to his house in Cansterville, and like I predicted, his house was littered with can's and bottles of beer. I didn't say anything, but I knew that my summer was going to be a bust. My dad didn't seem to worry about the empty containers of alcoholic beverages spread across the floor, he just walked around casually like he did this everyday. "So, it's been a while."
     His words were a little slurred, but it didn't phase me, but what did were the words coming out of his mouth. It had been a while, and it was his fault to... "Do I get a room?" I asked.
     "Upstairs, first left."
     Well upstairs and to the left was a tiny little room that smelled like mold and expired milk, and a rough bed with a few thin, itchy sheets.
     My circumstances were pretty bad, and without my mom, who was probably making some Kraft macaroni for Josiah right now, I was a goner.
     If I remember correctly, my dad is a terrible cook, but add a little alcohol and I'll be lucky if the house doesn't burn down.
     "Ey, Jay, some girl is heretacya'..." My dad yelled, his words blending together.
     I walked downstairs to see some girl with a flyer for a Cansterville carnival standing in our front doorway, except this girl was Vanessa Grace.