Pulse

9

AUTHORS NOTE: heyo everyone :) I apologize for not having an early chapter this week, and this particular chapter is going to be a bit more brief then the fallowing ones but I hope you all enjoy it :) it's getting pretty late so I'm really tired and I apologize for any mistakes in the writing, and once again I'm truly sorry that this chapter is so short.
Anyways, thanks for reading <3 feel free to write some feedback in the comments section!!
(I promise the next few chapters will be better ^.^ )

When I wake up I have no clue what time it is, but it's obviously late in the day. My brother is once again no where to be seen but Daniel is cleaning up the kitchen. On the living room coffee table my empty bottle of stolen whiskey is right out in the open. I glance around the house looking for signs of anything broken, lord knows what else I might have done last night if I was stupid enough to leave a liqour bottle in the open. I wonder If anyone has seen it yet and instantly my heart rate goes up as I begin to imagine what Jason might say.

Danny walks in the room and see's me awake, and a knowing smirk is spread across his face.
"Good morning sleeping beauty." He chuckles. "About time you woke up from your hang over."

Hang over... Doesn't feel like I imagined it would. My head feels like a million pounds though and I'm really fucking thirsty.

"You.. Know?" I ask.

"Austin, me and Jason both know. you came in at 4 AM. We thought we were being robbed."

"Oh." Is all I say, looking down. What will Jason say... Will he let me come back?

"Where did you go anyways?" Daniel asks.

I think for a second, trying to remember clearly everything I did last night.

"I went to the park." I say quietly. Images of the swing set and fuzzy memories of singing and walking flash through my mind. Daniel looks away and stairs at the empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table before slowly nodding.

"Why did you leave last night?" He asks me. I bite my lip and try to come up with a reason, an excuse. I shrug my shoulders.
I honestly don't know.
All danny says is "okay" with an exasperated sigh, and I get up to go take a shower, before I reach the bathroom he calls my name.

"Austin," he looks at me with intense eyes, like he's trying to anylize me. "If you ever want to talk about what happened with Sarah, I'm a good listener."

I nod and lock myself in the bathroom before he could possibly say anything else.

My entire day is that way. Random akward glances from danny and looks from my brother that I'm unable to read. They both do their own thing and occasionally I get messages from Mike saying things like "I drew more pictures of you" or "text meeeeeeeeeee".
Of course, I don't message him back. That would only lead to conversation and he would think that we are friends or something. I don't need a friend.
Every once and a while I hear that little voice and I take my medicine that I figured would even it out, but through out the week I've noticed that it doesn't work really. It calms my nerves a little bit, it makes me feel less confused and helps me focus more. I wonder if its the cause for my numbness. When did I start feeling so numb?
By 4 or 5 in the evening I find that I'm craving the burn in my lungs and slight but barely noticeable buzz in my head that only cigarettes could cause. I'm surprised by the craving, intrigued that what everyone always said was right. They really are addictive... And by 6 or 7 my irritability is enough to force me out the door and on my way to the convenient store before I even have a plan for how to buy them. I'm still a minor, you know.

****

The toxic smoke slips into my lungs and comes out in swirls of clouds, dripping from my lips and causing dark gray smears of cloudiness in the air around me. The smell of nicotine hangs on my clothes and breath, and all that's in my mind as I inhale the tar into my body is the possibility of being caught behind the convenient store. I wasn't carded. Maybe it was because I have those dark rings under my eyes that are rarely seen in children, and more often seen in adults who have spent years upon years of their life stressed out.
Maybe it was because that particular cashier with messy hair and cracked lips doesn't pay much attention, or doesn't care. Whatever the reason, he rang the pack of ciggerrets up without question....Along with two more packs now securely tucked into my pocket. I'll have to remember what time he works so I don't end up with a cashier that does question my age.
By this time in the day with winter right around the corner, the sun starts setting early and the sky soon looks like a canvas smeared with pastel colors of orange and red. A soft shade of pink dips down just below the glowing light caused by the sun sinking lower and lower from my view.
I finish my cigarette quickly and manage to compose myself and stomp down the shame of my new found addiction before heading back to my brothers house, seemingly just in time for all the street lights to turn on.

****

The rest of the weekend is spent avoiding my brother and Daniel as well as ignoring texts from Mike. I dread Monday, and spend more time then I need watching old movies that me, Sarah and Jason used to watch together as children. More times then I could count, I find myself in the bathroom evening out my breaths and calming my nerves with distracting thoughts like "red ted Ned shed fled bled bed" or "peter piper picked a peck of pickled peppers". You know, things you would be told to do in therapy. But besides that Sunday ended up being relatively calm. Almost boring. Too much time for reflection, too much hostile small talk and way too many concerned glaces from Jason.
More then once my imagination asks the anxious part of my brain what my parents might be doing at home... What I'm going to find tomorrow after school when I walk through the threshold of my tension infused house.
Regardless, I make it through the rest of the weekend and before I go to sleep I take 4 little blue sleeping pills from my brothers medicine cabinet and as I lay on my brothers soft couch surrounded with purple blankets and nesseled into a fluffy comforter blanket, I feel the sleeping pills work their magic in my blood stream. Soon my eyes are practically clamped shut, my skull feels like its 10 tons and I'm slowly lured into the dark oblivion I've been craving for weeks on end. A deep sleep that will hopefully give me energy and strength for the harsh week to come.