waste the night [c.h.]

ten

It was a silent Thursday night when Jessie told me.

We were both busy doing our own homework that we didn't pay any attention to each other. I was writing a philosophy paper about wisdom when she spoke.

"My dad used to hit my mom."

I looked up, furrowing my eyebrows as she sent me a sad smile. "It started when I was little girl."

"Jess, you don't have to tell me-"

"No, I want to," she interrupted me. "It was when he got drunk. It was basically every night."

I sat up, turning my full attention to her.

"I ignored it at first. Pretended that I didn't hear the grunts and the screams," she spoke quietly. "But one night, it was bad."

"He was angry about something," she continued. "Something at work. He had been drinking. My mom told him that he had to stop drinking. That he was going to lose his job and we'd be out on the street."

I nodded to her, telling her that I understood. "She stood up to him. And he beat her until she couldn't even move. I panicked, I called the cops."

I moved over to her bed, taking her hand in mine as she continued. "They arrested him, he got time in prison. My mom was angry at me for saving her, how ridiculous is that?"

"She started doing drugs, I don't know when it started, how it started, but she found her new addiction that wasn't my dad," she said, tears filling her eyes. "I learned to take care of myself. My mom was doing drugs while I was getting ready for school."

"Eventually, I got taken," she said to me. "Placed with my grandparents until I left for college."

I squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."

She smiled softly at me, swiping the tears from her cheeks. "I still don't understand it. How a man so toxic and disgusting to my mother could be loved by her. He broke her, he destroyed her and she still loved him. She tore herself apart because he was taken from her."

"Love makes you do crazy things."

She quickly shook her head. "That's not love."

I shrugged. "Maybe it was. Before he started drinking."

She nodded, agreeing. "I can't have any relationship because I'm scared of hurting myself loving someone else."

"Is that why you get drunk and have one night stands?"

She laughed, putting an arm around my shoulder. "Yeah, it is."

"You're gonna find someone that's just as funny and beautiful as you," I smiled at her. "It's probably not any of those douches that get you drunk and has sex with you."

"I just want to have fun, you know?"

"Do you think maybe you're not having fun, you're drowning your sorrows?"

"Psychology is really getting to you, isn't it?" she chuckled before looking at me. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I don't want to end up like my dad."

"Maybe stop drinking so heavily."

"Right again, Taylor," she smiled and hugged me tightly. "Thanks, babe."

I smiled and nodded, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry about your parents, just know that even though they were kind of a bunch of buttholes, they created an amazing person that I'm proud to call my best friend."

She smiled and hugged me again. "Enough of all this mushy gushy talk, get back to that homework."

I chuckled. "Love you too, Jess."