Empty Chair

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Turns out, my Aunt didn't mind the previous night’s events. That being because she remembered absolutely nothing of it. When I got to the apartment she was conked out on the couch. After about another hour of her snoring, she woke up complaining that her stomach hurt and ran to the bathroom to puke. I cleaned up after her and washed her clothes. Later, I forced her in the shower, but after twenty minutes I found her sitting on the tub floor asleep while the water was pouring on her head. I couldn't get my Aunt to stand up so I took off all of my clothes except for my bra and underwear, and got in the shower with her.

This happens often; she'll get high and wasted to the point where functioning a finger couldn't even be possible, and then I will end up taking care of her the next day. Sometimes I'll have to baby her for a whole week. You'd think that after all the crap she's put me through, I wouldn't even consider getting in a shower to clean puke off of her because she can't function, but... it's complicated. She's pretty much all the family I have left. My mom, dad, and little brother passed away last January and there are really no other relatives to take me in, at least none that care enough to. My dad had no siblings and his parents basically left the face of the Earth; no one knows where they are. My mom's parents died a few years back, she had a brother, but he passed from cancer, and well, that left my Aunt. So she became my Godmother and has put me through hell since her title as a "Godmother" kicked in. But I always find myself taking care of this awful woman that hates my very existence because I know that even with my mom as a sister, her childhood was screwed up. She was always that kid who was at the wrong place in the wrong time. People had pressured her into things she didn't want, she was taught the wrong things by strangers, and made the kind of friends that no one would ever want their child associated with. She's not that old; on the 19th of July she'll be 26, and having to take care of your deceased sisters child at a young age when you yourself were not ready or stable for a kid has to have taken a toll. So I have some sympathy for her, even in the times she would abuse and throw me out of the apartment; sure I would be infuriated and in some serious cases cry, but then I'd remember she didn't get raised in the environment I did. But, I'm not just going to look past everything and pretend the crappy way she's treated me never happened either.

As I finished washing the conditioner out of her hair and body wash from the last arm, my Aunt mumbled something incoherent to me and was nodding off. "No, no, no, no!" I squealed.

I couldn't support her body weight by myself. So as she started to go limp, I went down with her. She was sitting on top of me and unconsciously curled into my side. Her head rested on my shoulder; I felt her breathing slow down as she started to fall asleep. I sighed in defeat and just ran my hands through her wet hair soothingly. The water was still running from the showerhead and getting me wet. Looking down at my Aunt asleep in my arms, I frowned. This is not the life I want to be living. I leaned my head on the wall behind me and let out a slow breath from my nose.

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"I'm starving. Could you hurry it up? I bet if you turn up the fire, it'll cook faster." Whether she is drunk, stoned, or completely sober; she still can manage to be a royal pain in the ass.

"If you're okay with burnt pancakes, I have no problem turning the heat up." I snapped while flipping a pancake. My Aunt pouted at me like a child and smacked her hand on the small corner table in protest. But no sooner after making the booming sound did she cringe.

"Ow, that hurts my brain..." she placed the palm of her hand to the middle of her forehead and moaned. I smirked and slapped two golden pancakes on a disposable Styrofoam plate and placed it in front of her.

"Where's my fork?" she asked.

I turned around, grabbed one from the dish drain, and gave it to her.