The Last Night

11

The next night, I read Peyton the beginning of Cinderella. I was actually kind of interested because the lead in the story reminded me of myself. Absorbed in her own misery, waiting for something good to happen.
When we finished the first chapter, Peyton chirped, "Samara, that was amazing!"
Her arms wrapped around me. It made me think of Aaron's arms wrapped around his friend.
Friend.
What is a friend?
Is Peyton my friend? Or is she just my sister?
Anyway, Matt came home at 10:30 PM, long after Coyote and Peyton had been sent to bed.
He came with a girl.
A beautiful, BEAUTIFUL girl.
Her name was Isabelle. She had silky blonde hair that twisted down her back. She wore a tight dress and clacking heels.
But the sound sliced through the ceiling.
Mom screamed, "Why did you bring this girl home? Why are you so late?"
"Because," Matt yelled. "It's my life, and it can't be in the wrong hands!"
"It's already in the wrong hands!"
"Mom," he hollered. "I am not going to be under your control. Let me do what I fucking want. Let me do what I fucking want!"
I heard a sigh. "Goddammit, Matt!" Mom barked. "Do drugs, drink, drive, smoke, kill yourself. It's all fine by me! But if you do, never come back to this house! Samara, Peyton, and Coyote shouldn't have to put up with you! Neither should your father and I! So leave. Or stay! Your choice."
"Fine!" Matt said. "I'll leave you and this fucking house. I'll leave it right now."
And then, the door slammed shut and he left.
He didn't just leave Mom.
He left me too.
And he never came back to this house.