"Heavy Shit"

Chapter 10: Let yourself out...

  Hearing my mother talk just sounded like,

"Womp, wompwomp, womp, womp...bad mother."

Those crocodile tears. Sigh. Guess she think she's fooling me. I can't even bear to look at her. I laid my head in my hands. Elbows on my kneecaps. Feels like I'm fucking drowning...but there's no water to be found.

"wanted to apologize for a while now but things-"

"Please! Just... just stop will you? Nothing you say will be able to justify what you've done mother."

Alcohol. I need alcohol and cocaine before I explode." Walking into the kitchen and reaching into the cabinet, I grab a bottle of Jack Daniels. I needed something strong. Twisting the top off and taking a long swig as it burned my throat. Another one. Another one. I glance at my mother. Still, pretending to cry?

"I don't know why I had this silly idea that I would be able to forgive you and look past our issues. Unfortunately I can't and more importantly I have bigger issues to deal with then you pretending to cry just so you won't be alone."

"Fitty... what are you-"

"I told you not to call me that! You don't get to do that anymore 'mother!' Where is dad? Where is Jacob? You know, the guy you took off with to a different state 3 months back? Or how about Dylan? Mathew, Rick?!"

Condescendingly giggling at my own hurt now. Maybe I'm losing it. Another swig of Jack Daniels.

Calming. Yet, bitter sweet.

Like having a mother who just abruptly stopped caring for you. Or being married but he doesn't love you. Or perhaps having the ability to breathe but you're surrounded by debris. Yeah. That's it.

Bitter sweet.

"I think you should go mother. Continue you're disappearing act for another 4 to 5 years and maybe then I would want to see you. But as of now, you can let yourself out."

My bed was calling my name. Before ascending the stairwell, I glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall 3:49 a.m. Hope tomorrow would be a better day. I left my mother downstairs. Her and her fake tears. I was tired of pretending. Being perfect and biting my tongue was becoming harder and harder.

My mind drifted to Gordon. Tomorrow morning I would be filing for a divorce. This should go smoothly considering he's in jail. Hopefully he stays in there for a while. At least until I can get my head together.

After locking my room door and stripping off my clothes, I heard the front door slam. Marcy must be upset because I didn't fall into her tricks like I used to. I smiled. Entering my bathroom, I tried to ignore my reflection as I reached for my mirror compact hidden in the drawer. I bit my lip as I opened it and stared at the snow that awaited to be put up my nostrils.

Placing the Jack Daniels on the sink, I indulged. Sniff, sniff was all it took for me to feel that familiar euphoria that I had become so accustomed to.

Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back. Sigh. I feel better already. Placing my compact back into it's safe keeping I turned to leave but the mirror caught my attention. I could see scratches and purple bruises around my neck. Great. Well, at least that could be ammunition to ensure my divorce. My eyes drifted down to my belly.

My eyes started to sting. I was tired of crying. Before those stupid tears fell I hit the light switch and made my way to my king-sized bed. This time I was happy to be alone and not wondering who my husband had his dick shoved in around this time of morning. This time, maybe someone had their dick shoved in him.

Snickering at my cruel non stop thoughts. I laid there staring at the ceiling, until I finally went to bed.

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