The World Through Various Eyes

[6] Intoxicated (Alex's POV)

I slammed the door to my house out of rage. Suddenly I was just in a bad mood, and I wasn't completely sure as to why. It could have been the fact that I was dreading the return to my defective household. Sure enough, my father was in a drunken stupor, cans of beer littering the kitchen counter and floor. Not like I expected any different of a scene.

He grunted in acknowledgement at my presence, which I suppose was better than nothing. He flapped his hand in the air, attempting to convey a message of something along the lines of chastisement, for whatever reason. I hadn't been at Jade's all day and even if I had, he wouldn't have noticed. Well, normally- but why now? Something wasn't right.

Only moments later, he mumbled something incoherent under his breath, his voice a slow drawl. In this state, which he was in more often than not, I constantly struggled to make sense of his passing comments and remarks.

Regardless, I could tell he was severely displeased, instead of his usual apathetic attitude. Worried that I would be held accountable for his mumbles, I strode over towards him and leaned in a bit closer, my way of signaling for him to repeat his previous statement.

What I didn't expect, however, was a sharp slap across my cheek, followed by more mumbling, the only of which I could make out contained a string of obscenities. I stepped back, still reeling from recent events.

Of all the possible reactions, never could I have predicted that one. He stood from the decrepit couch from which he had previously sat, and advanced on me, backing me against the peeling wallpaper. He was clearly not done with me.

"You're a disappointment." the drunk man who I barely recognized as my father slurred.

Why did he have to start this now? His words stung, because I knew there was some truth to them. At least, in my opinion; being the overachiever I was, I was never satisfied with my accomplishments.

Still, it was pretty ironic coming from such a failure of a parent. I was tending for him when he was home from work, playing the role of father he refused to consider taking on!

Furious, I kicked a stray beer can that was resting by the toe of my sneaker, not once worrying whether it was empty or not. Luckily it was, not like that mattered. This house was as run-down as possible, so an extra stain on the couch or carpet wouldn't look out of place.

My father, however, did not care about all of that, and slammed my head to the dense wall behind us with a painful thud. I gasped, aware of the fact that I was cornered, in intense pain, and completely helpless.

He might not have been intelligent at that moment, but his violence fueled by a combination of anger for unknown reasons and intoxication made him a force to be reckoned with.

With a grunt, his stare intensified. All traces of sanity were lost, and I could tell by his eyes. They gave a certain look, half dazed and half maniacal. Without warning, he grasped my collar in his fist, and yanked, causing me to cough a bit.

I prayed that a result of this action wasn't me spitting on him, which would further enrage him. And we certainly didn't need that.

"Listen," my father shouted, clearly mumbling less than before. "You're an embarrassment. Is being normal so difficult?"

He emphasized "so", drawling it out much longer than it normally would have been said. As if his statement wasn't inflammatory enough. Cringing, I mustered the courage to reply.

"Where did that come from?" I cried desperately.

"I realize I'm nothing like you! But who the hell would want to be? I'm a failure? That's rich! You can't even keep a woman in this house!" I screamed between sobs, referring to his former wife and my mother.