It was two days before Murph came home. He reeked of cigarettes and weed. He came into the kitchen where I was making my lunch for work the next day. He leant against the counter.
"Alright" He said.
"I can fucking smell you from here" I told him bluntly.
"Nice to see you too"
"No, don't pull that act on me. You missed you appointment, I had the Doctor Moss calling me asking where you were, if you were okay. I had to just tell him that you were find and just recovering from stomach flu. I had to cover for you, again"
"When did you last cover for me?" He scoffed.
"Every fucking weekend when we were in high school! You'd run off to the other side of town with Rose and not tell your mum. I'd have to say that you were at mine or at Mark's. Do you know how fucking guilty I felt. How bad I felt for lying to your mum every single fucking weekend. You're pathetic" I threw the knife down, grabbed my lunch and shoved it in my backpack. He followed me into my bedroom as I shoved stuff into my bag.
"Where are you going?"
"To stay with Tord and Laura. I can't be around you"
"I've literally just got back!" He yelled.
"Don't fucking start yelling at me!" I shouted back. "You just go around fucking everything up for yourself and other people all over a girl you had a crush on in fucking primary school. Grow the fuck up and when you do, come and find me" I zipped up my bag and left the flat.
YOU ARE READING
Too lost for therapy - The Wombats
Teen Fiction"He's gonna bring you down, Dan. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, he's just gonna hold you back." TRIGGERS: This story contain strong mentions of suicide, self harm, PTSD and other mental illnesses throughout. Readers digression is advised.
