Teenage Troubles (Prequel for Teenage Baby)

Chapter 18 | Aaron

Chapter 18 | Aaron

For once in Aaron's fifteen years of life, he thought he could have some rest. Sitting alone in the living room, father somewhere out (he hoped in hell), legs stretched across the couch, watching a documentary about astronomy-right now, everything seemed peaceful.

But there was a voice in Aaron's head telling him that peace was only a state of pre-calamity. When he'd been six, Jannette had come to that conclusion.

During commercial break, he stared down his front at his bare toes. He curled them, then relaxed again. The movement usually hurt because the muscles underneath burnt skin contracted. This time it didn't. David hadn't burnt his foot in a while, which meant he hadn't cried. Aaron felt proud.

Aaron lazily glanced at the window by the television. It was inky black outside, only the stars' silver flickering, moon's luminance shining. He liked the night's light more than the day's. But then a yellow beam expanded along the road, engine sounding right behind.

Aaron groaned and reluctantly pushed his feet down to the floor. He turned off the TV and prepared to nestle in his room now that his father had come back.

Just as he was trudging to his room, his father busted in, swinging the front door open a bit too violently. Aaron squinted at him across the distance. Lethargic movement, body swaying like it was still under the effect of the wind outside. A second later, the stench of smoke and beer reeked. Aaron made a face, turning away.

Drunk. David was drunk. So today he was a monster.

Aaron chose he'd rather calmly lock the door on himself and wait until he'd be sober again.

"Aaron!" David drawled, stumbling across the corridor. Aaron ignored him and quickly slipped into his room, trying to shut the door. Except David slammed a hand on it and forced it open. "Where are you going? Hiding? Come here, let me tell you what happened today."

Aaron tried to stay calm. "Dad, we'll talk in the morning, isn't it better? Right now you're tired and I'm tired and it's better if we just sleep."

"I said get your ass outside and let's talk."

David caught Aaron's arm and dragged him to the living room. He made him sit by his side on the couch. "Wanna know what happened today?"

Something about David's voice changed, suddenly became melancholic. Aaron frowned. "What?"

"I was gambling," David explained, eyes set on his callous finger as it absently traced the front of Aaron's clothes. "And I lost a shit ton of my money. I never lose. Why did I lose today, Aaron?" He caught Aaron's shoulder, pulling him closer. Aaron clenched his teeth and tried not to lash out. "Why did I lose?"

The last word was accompanied by a cluster of spit. Aaron screwed his eyes shut. With his free arm, he wiped his face off. He said, annoyed but composed, "I don't know why you lost. I'm sorry that happened."

"I know why I lost."

Aaron just stared. He wanted to make a run for it, but he knew his father well and that would only make him angrier. He stayed still as David continued, "Because of you."

"Me," Aaron repeated, mockingly apprehensive. "That makes sense."

"Yeah, yeah it does." David leant forwards, too close, jabbing a finger in Aaron's chest. His words slurred into each other. "'Cause you're bad luck."

"I know."

"You know you're bad luck?"

Aaron didn't have to lie. He spoke what he thought of himself, "Yeah. And I'm a piece of shit. Useless. Everything you say, it's right."