The Sun is Gone

Busy

Hi guys, I know I haven't written in a while. I'm going to try to get back into this story. I hope you are enjoying it so far.
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Aunt Patricia was being a drill sergeant when it came to cleaning the house.  Two weeks had gone by since Kurt left, and she'd been on my ass about packing things and wiping down walls constantly.  I felt like fucking Cinderella.  Every single day I sorted through mountains of my dad's belongings and even my mom's old things that he'd never gotten rid of. 

I threw out most of it, but we had to keep anything of value for an estate sale, so I boxed up what I thought seemed to be worth keeping.  I worked from morning to night every day, which was frustrating because I was running out of money and asking Aunt Patricia was not something I wanted to do. 

I barely got to talk to Kurt for more than a minute or two most days.  I did find out that their show went great and that they booked two more gigs after that.  He sounded like he was in slightly better spirits after that, but we were still miserable from being apart.  Aunt Patricia nagged every time the phone rang, so I tried to call at night when she was gone, but that was usually when the band was practicing, so I felt like Kurt and I were falling out of sync a bit.  I was happy that he was active rather than wallowing though. 

I really wished I could pick up a short-term part-time job so that I could at least earn the money to get back to Kurt, or to have him visit me.  He was still working at his job, but most of his money went towards our apartment.  The gigs the band was getting still didn't pay much of anything, and we still owed Krist money, which I would settle as soon as I had the money from the house.  But I still felt terrible about it.

Frustrated, I decided to try to talk to Aunt Patricia one day.  We were clearing out cluttered kitchen cabinets, stumbling upon more and more empty liquor bottles along the way. 

"Aunt Patricia?" I spoke gently, knowing she'd been in a bad mood most of the time.  "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, Liz," she said in a brisk but not harsh tone.

"Well, this is a little awkward, but I'm--uh--starting to have some financial struggles since I've been here.  I know I'll eventually be inheriting money, but in the meanwhile..."

"Are you honestly asking me for money right now?" Aunt Patricia snapped. 

"No--no--" I tried to interject, but she cut me off.

"You know you have a roof over your head, a car to drive.  For God sakes, you're going to inherit more money than you'll know what to do with from this goddamn house!  I don't have to be here helping you with all of this!  I do this out of the kindness of my heart and all you have is greed just like your mother!"  I felt anger start to burn inside of me.

"First of all," I countered.  "I wasn't going to ask you for money.  I was going to ask for some free time so that I could get a job.  Second of all, I didn't ask you to come and help me with this.  You did that on your own and I appreciate it, but not when you treat me like this.  Thirdly, I am not my mother and you have no business comparing me to her."  Aunt Patricia shot me a murderous glare and stormed from the room, slamming down the box she was working on along the way. 

"Fuck this!" I shouted loudly.  "Fuck all of it!"  I burst into tears as I headed out back to smoke my last cigarette.  I wanted so badly to just go back to Washington.  I wanted Kurt. 

When I went back inside, Aunt Patricia was nowhere to be found.  Great, I thought.  She abandoned me to deal with this shit myself.  Then I spotted $40 sitting on the kitchen counter.  I really didn't want her pity, but soon I wasn't going to have food to eat.  So I shoved the money in my pocket and grabbed the phone, hoping to catch Kurt.