The Unseen

Chapter 1

"Mom! " I screamed. Asher, my brother, ran up the stairs with loud, quick steps. Mom was on the floor with vomit spewing out of her mouth. My hand was over my mouth in disgust and fright. My brother entered the room, looking down at her. It was too late. She was dead. Her once green eyes were getting lighter and her once tan skin was a sick white. I placed two fingers on the side of her neck. She was gone. I looked down at my lap and watched it get blurry from my tears. Asher fell to his knees beside me and looked down. His eyes filled with tears. He started to sob into his hands. I stood up and looked outside. The backyard was gray, my life was gray. Asher's sobs sounded like they were in the distance instead of behind me. He was 16, empathetic, tall, and the one who has taken care of me. He had all the qualities of a protector.
Mom had a drinking problem. Dad was the reason. He made Mom depressed and he didn't make himself any happier either. He was also a drunk. They would have full bottles of whiskey and yell at each other. This would always be at night so we would never get enough sleep. Once, when it got really bad, Asher went downstairs and tried to get them to keep quiet, "Dad, listen, you don't mean any of this, okay? You're drunk. Go to bed." He said, calmly. Dad put the bottle down and tightened his hands into fists.
"Asher, go back to bed." His teeth were clenched as he said this. Asher looked up at him and frowned. He grabbed the bottle and threw it across the room to get Dad's attention.
"You are drunk, Dad! Go to bed and stop yelling. Sarah and I are trying to sleep and you're keeping her up too." He tried to remember that yelling would only make Dad physical. Dad walked past him and went upstairs. I was in my room sitting up and watching the doorway. Dad limped by and leaned against the wall. My eyes were widened. I was terrified of him when he was like this. I could smell the whiskey fumes from where I was.
"Sarah, honey? Go to sleep." His tone was fake. Through the "sweetness" in his voice, I could still hear the anger in it. "Did you hear me?! Go to sleep, Sarah! " I laid down quickly. His hand slapped on the wall, turning off the lights. His door slamming down the hall was followed by Asher's calm voice.
"Hey." He walked towards me, making me face the wall now. He sat down on the edge and looked down at me in the darkness. I chose not to talk. He knew I was upset and he knew that I had a right to be. Dad yelled all the time, but that didn't change my feelings towards yelling--hatred. "Sarah." Asher whispered, putting a hand on my shoulder. I put my pillow over my head, telling him I wanted to sleep and not talk to anyone for the rest of the night. He sighed and stood up. The door closed and I was left in the dark to cry myself to sleep. From that day on, nothing really changed. Then Mom and Dad would have a hangover the next morning. I woke up to the sound of loud footsteps and it sounded like someone was falling into the wall. When I opened the door, Mom was on the floor crawling toward me to stand up. I backed up a few steps, staring at her like she was some kind of monster.
"Mom? Are you okay?" I asked her, putting my hand near her face so she could reach out and grab it.
"Get away! I don't need your help!" She shouted, making me pull my hand back quickly. Asher swung his door open and looked out. He saw Mom on the floor and walked over to her.
"You okay?" He asked, looking at me as I shook my head. Mom slapped his hand when he offered to help her up. He stepped over her and went downstairs. I sighed and followed him. Dad was downstairs at the kitchen table, his head down. "Hey, Dad." Asher said, sitting down at the table across from him. Dad looked up and immediately put his hands over his eyes. He groaned and slammed a hand down on the table. Asher didn't even jump at the sound. It shocked me how he could just stay calm whenever Dad was like this. I walked into the kitchen slowly and went to the pantry to get cereal. Dad was mumbling about how he didn't remember anything and how awful it was for him to sleep. "Yeah. You didn't seem yourself last night." Asher explained, tapping his nails on the table. I sat down next to Asher and poured my cereal. While I ate, Dad was giving Asher these looks, telling us to tell him what he did last night.
    "You yelled a lot. We didn't get much sleep." I said, stirring my cereal around.
Asher stood up and came back with his backpack. I looked up from my cereal and saw the clock. I quickly put my bowl in the sink and grabbed my bag, getting dragged out the door.
"We're gonna be late." Asher said, going at a quick pace up the street to the bus stop. I rolled my eyes and remembered the clock's time. It was 7am and school started at 7:50. I didn't want to argue because it was still early and I wouldn't win anyway.
"Do you think Mom'll be okay? She isn't usually crawling on the floor like that-- I mean she usually slides against the wall to keep herself stable during a hangover, but she never crawls on the floor." I said, changing the subject to something way more important than school. Asher sighed at my question. I always had difficult questions it seemed.
"Uh...she won't be okay, but she won't be dead either. She'll be pissed." He replied, trying to say it in a way that I would understand. I nodded and sat down on the curb, rummaging through my bag to see if I forgot any of my papers. I forgot my math homework. It's not like it was my best class so I didn't really make a big fuss. Although, I wanted to try to at least bring my grade up a little bit. The only thing I really cared about was getting yelled at. I hated it more than anything. The other kids would laugh at my lack of self-esteem and my low-confidence to raise my hand to speak. I just stayed silent and let the school day go by. The reason why I could never get my homework done was the same reason why I couldn't get to sleep every night. On a good day, I would get half of the paper done and get a 50 on it after it's passed back. A loud engine interrupted my thoughts and I realized it was the bus. When I got on, people stared at me. I was hoping it was only them drifting off. I was correct. When the bus started moving, they jolted forward and widened their eyes to wake up more.

I woke up from my thinking when I heard Asher punch a wall. I turned around and stared at him, "Stop that. It's only going to make your knuckles bleed and maybe even put a hole in the wall again." I said, forgetting about my tears. My eyes went to Mom's dead, pale corpse and I started tearing up again. Asher continued to beat the wall. "Stop!" I yelled, finally getting his attention. He scowled at me and put his fists down. Suddenly, he picking up the whiskey bottle Mom was holding and threw it. I let out a heavy sigh, fed up by the amount of damage he was causing. He could get scary when it came to loss. I left the room to think and mourn.