One Last Time

Deux: Chapter 4

Guys! Please remember I started this when I was around thirteen. I had severe anxiety and depression (still dealing with that) but I also had stupid expectations about boys. James was inspired by a guy I had this crush on that turned out to be an asshole. I fixed the whole "boys fix everything" later on in my book. I don't wanna change any of it though because that's how I was back then you know? So please understand that! Also, I've entered my book in the wattys! First time.... please vote! Enjoy :) I've also decided Sage is gonna have some anxiety problems herself due to the emotional abuse. I'm basing her anxiety and the emotional abuse and results off of myself actually. Mature content ahead. Ok done rambling haha.

Getting home was exhausting. When the Uber finally arrived, my remaining makeup was long gone. I knew my hair probably looked crazy and by the look the driver gave me, I didn't look too well. I attempted a smile but I'm sure it didn't resemble one. The car eventually reached my house and I managed to say thank you before exiting the vehicle.  My phone buzzed with the notification to score my ride. I tapped five stars and closed the app. The door was closed and my parent's car wasn't in the driveway. Luckily, the spare key was kept in the same place. The door opened with a click and inside I went.

The freezer had some pre-made pasta dinners in it, so I popped one into the microwave and wandered around the house. Dad's office, of course, had a lock, but the one mom used wasn't locked surprisingly. Before I had the chance to snoop, the ding letting me know dinner was ready went off. 

My parents came home, drunk, around eleven. I had already showered and gotten ready for bed. They were both laughing hysterically and I heard my mom shouting that she was going to fix herself another drink. My dad loudly came up the stairs and slammed their bedroom door shut. I heard a crash downstairs and against my better judgment, went to see what happened.

Mom was sitting on the floor with a shattered glass and a bottle of liquor next to her. She looked up at me and tried to smirk but was too drunk to manage more than a lopsided smile. 

"Mom? Uh... are you ok?" I asked. 

"Of COURSE I'm ok Sage," she giggled, reaching for the gin beside her, "why wouldn't I be? It's not like my daughter killed herself or anything!" She took a giant swig from the bottle. I came slightly closer to her. 

"Mom, you can grieve but this isn't smart, putting all this alcohol in your system. You should stop, you have things to do tomorrow," I said, trying to reason with her. She spat at me.

"Shut up Sage," she snarled, "You want to know the reason we forbid Winter to speak to you? Because she was supposed to be our good daughter. You were the result of a broken condom. But then she went and got depressed, wasting so much potential. We wanted her here, we actually wanted her alive." Tears were filling my eyes but I refused to give her the satisfaction of making me cry. I couldn't tell if it was the grief talking but there was some truth to what she was saying.

"And you know what?" mom continued, "I wish you and Winter had switched places. She could still be here and you'd be gone." I couldn't bear to look at that pathetic woman one more second. I turned around and hurried to my room. Once I was safe, I let the tears that had been building up fall. How could she say those things? Aren't drunk words sober thoughts? I curled up under the covers and fell into a deep, eventless sleep.

My iPhone alarm went off at 9:30 exactly. I groaned and sat up, turning it off. My neck felt like there was a giant lump on the side and when I straightened I swear I heard a million bones make cracking noises. With another sigh I climbed out of bed, away from my warm blankets, migrating towards my bathroom. I skipped makeup and pulled on black jeans, black Vans, and a comfy gray sweater over my t-shirt. I sent a text to Abby asking about where we should meet, and she suggested hanging out at the Starbucks downtown.