Something Rebellious || l.b.

Chapter 23

"I need to get something off my chest."

He slightly shifts, but keeps his eyes low- not making eye contact yet. I feel my anxiety build blocks with each passing second he hesitates to speak.

"Come on, say it." I grit through my teeth.

He releases a nervous, breathy laugh. "You're going to think I'm crazy- hell, I think I'm crazy."

Get on with it.

"Look at you, you're just..so beautiful in every way I can imagine possible. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but if I were to take a picture of you right now, a thousand words wouldn't be enough."

His words flow beautifully out of his quivering lips. He's nervous, but I know what is to come next. I fist the ends of my sweater, not being able to say a single word.

"From the moment I saw you, something told me you were trouble. I processed it to be trouble because somehow I knew I would fall...hard for you." He stops for a moment, and it feels like time is frozen.

"I've fallen so hard for you. I don't want to get up unless you help me." He reaches out his hand and I'm in complete awe.

"Annabelle Marie, I'm in love with you. Truly, madly, deeply in love with you."

My jaw clenches as I wait for her inevitable response. Her face could light up the room, her dainty fingers slowly intertwine with his outstretched ones. You can practically feel the love being exchanged.

"Well? Say something, Annabelle." He asks anxiously.

"Yeah, Annabelle! Say something!" I yell at the television.

"God dammit, I love you too." She foolishly admits. His eyes adoringly stare into her shimmering gray ones as he dips his forehead down to hers. Her eyes flick from his eyes to his anticipating lips. He cups her face and pulls her closer they share their first kiss. The music crescendo's into a romantic number as the screen fades and the credits begin to roll. A great way to end this cheap soap opera that I've been glued onto for a while.

I sprawl out my arms and legs across my bed. What day is it? When is the last time I went out? I feel like I've been in bed for days when in reality it's only been half a day.

I hear the door knob furiously wiggle in a failed attempt to open the door. Followed by a key being shoved and turned. As the door opens, a string of mumbled cursing enters the apartment. I sit up and and peek my head through my bedroom door. It's none other, but my mother. I inch myself out of my room and already the familiar stench of alcohol clogs the room.

I want to greet her, I want her to be able to come home with a smile bright on her face but no. Instead, she comes home with either a new bottle of vodka or an empty one. It makes me sick to my stomach that she thinks that drinking will help her get over my Dad's death. She's the only family I have left and already I see her deteriorating.

She yanks her purse off of her shoulder and carelessly tosses it to the side. Slowly but surely she drags herself to the kitchen and flings the cabinets open, dabbing her hands around until she reaches the half drunk bottle of wine. She doesn't even care to grab a glass, she takes a big swig and lets the liquid drip from the sides of her mouth.

"Mom, please. Take it easy." I say barely audible. I make sure to keep an even distance from her, I don't know why but I feel almost afraid of her. She lazily wipes the corners of her mouth and looks at me.

"Don't tell me to take it easy, kid." She says with a raspy voice. Another swig.

"Just put it down. You need to stop, for me." I beg. Each gulp she takes it feels like another piece of my heart gets peeled off. She loses herself with each gulp.