TEA$ERS

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

"What would you like to know?" Zayn repeats, and I close my eyes briefly.

I had so many questions for him, but they were all jumbled up in my brain and it was hard to process which one I wanted to know first.

"I don't know, just start from the beginning I guess." I finally reply, letting out a slow, uneasy breath while doing so.

He nods and takes a seat back on the edge of Mel's bed. I stand in front of him, awaiting his response.

"When I was little, my dad used to teach me how to gamble. I thought that it was so cool because I was the only 12 year old kid that knew how to play poker around my block. Back then, things were..different."

He stares off into space for a moment, before continuing with his story.

"But that's about the same time that things changed. My dad had a serious gambling problem, but at the time I didn't know just how severe it was. It would go from him down at the bar playing maybe once every two weeks, to three times in one week. Our family was growing more and more broke by the second, but he didn't care. He was way too into the game."

His hands slid slowly up and down his pant leg. Slowly moving as his shaky breathes continued between words.

"A few months passed, and my mom began to get worried about him. She was afraid that we'd end up on the streets, but that only put our family in a worse off place than before. She would wait up for him, crying until who knows how late at night before he came home. He would always come back with the smell of whiskey on his tongue, but he would never admit to his problems. Instead, he would lash out on my mother."

A pained look took over Zayn's face as he spoke.

"Zayn, you don't have to-"

"No, I need to do this. I have to tell someone."

I nod, silently taking his hand in mine, and he looks down at our joined fingers before continuing.

"I didn't believe what I was hearing. Doniya, my older sister, told me that it was all in my head. Just a dream is what she said. But this...this dream wouldn't end. After that night, my mom would begin to make up excuses for what he did to her. Would say that she just burned herself, or accidentally cut herself. But the pain in her eyes gave it away. I just didn't want to face it. Soon after that we got sent food stamps because we were just that damn broke. My own father was giving away their hard earned money, and for what? To appease his own addiction."

He scoffed, the hate in his eyes illuminating the already blackness that had taken over them. The pain I felt for him was now an understanding of his life. This broken man was brought up by a father that never knew how to deal with women, or with a family, and the hardship that came with it took a big toll on his son.

"The minute I turned 18, I left that place. My mother kicked him out of the house a year later, but it didn't change what had happened to her. She never got the justice that she deserved, and I wish that I was able to do something about it but I didn't have enough money."

"So is that why you want to become a doctor? To use the money to get rid of your dad?" I ask him quietly. I didn't completely agree with his reasons, but I could understand why he felt the way he did.

He looks at me, slightly surprised that I had said anything at all.

He scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. "Uh, yeah. I'm the man of the house, or at least I used to be, and I don't want my sisters to feel like they have to hold that responsibility."