Footsteps. Who's there?
"Who's here?" I shout into the house.
"Hello?" Still no response.
I trudge around the house, and as soon as I enter Jamie's room, a gust of wind hits me in the face.
The window is open.
Aubrey, Aubrey, the one who got into Vic's trap of lies.
I look over at Vic.
Bloody Vic.
She lied.
She cheated.
I knew it.
And I don't like that.
Really, the only thing I like now is alcohol.
But I don't have a problem. No, I'm not an alcoholic.
Nah.
I'm not a drunk.
No.
I drink a bottle while thinking this.
I ain't a drunk.
I did the right thing by getting rid of Vic.
I walk over to the fridge, which is now just stocked with mouldy fruit and bottles of Carlton Bitter, one of which I scuzzle down my throat.
I ain't an alcoholic.
YOU ARE READING
A Tale of a Mother, a Daughter, a Murder, a Funeral and Pikelets.
Teen FictionA funeral, the centre point of the roller coaster that only seems to go down for Aubrey and her family. A tragedy strikes that changes everything, from her Dad's drinking habits to her grandmother's baking. This is Bianca's masterpiece, with differe...
