Faetality |✓|

2.3 //Speak No Lies//

There was a disgusting bottle of peppermint vodka stashed behind my headboard that I kept for emergencies like this. After practice, I headed straight home, feeling nothing at all until the bottle was pressed to my lips. The burn told me I was still alive, but none of this felt like living. Everything was dark and numb. For the first time, I had no idea who I was or what I was doing.

Taking a heavy seat on the bed, I stared at the pictures on the wall. An impossible breeze erupted, ruffling them like pages; I took another sip.

My friends were assholes, but they were right. Life didn't change overnight, it changed when mom left. 

I flopped backwards on the bed with a sigh, arms spread. "This. Sucks."

My friends resented resented me. My boyfriend was tired of me. And every time I closed my eyes, even for a little bit, I fell into a pair of mysterious blue eyes...

Downstairs, the front door slammed. Sitting up straight, I stared at the bottle in my hands, flying into action when I heard footsteps on the stairs.

One last swig and I capped the bottle, chucking it behind the bed as someone entered the hallway.

"Tammy? Hon?" Dad rounded the corner, home just in time to catch me changing my sheets.

"Hi, Dad!" I paused, struck by his cheerless smile. "I-is everything okay?"

"No, actually." Still in his suit, tie loosened, Dad leaned in the door-frame. As a lawyer, there were many days when his hours extended past nine to five. Working for an upscale law firm like Proctor and Sool meant he was never home this early unless it was an emergency.

"I called you and your sister on the way home; you didn't answer."

"Phone died--sorry."

"Aw, that's okay." He waved his hand. "I have to go to Clifton--now. Something happened this morning... With your mom."

I froze; my blood ran cold.

Clifton Psychiatric Center, a mental hospital, had been my mother's home since her break down six months ago. It was supposed to be her sanctuary, the one place she would be safe–or so her doctor said.

"Dad, what happened? Is Mom alright?"

"Uh, well, yes and no," he carefully replied. "The hospital called. They said someone broke into your mother's room early this morning and attacked her. Physically she's okay, but mentally, emotionally... they can't be sure. Not yet."

I sank on the bed, eyes burning as a lump formed in my throat. I wiped my face. "So... if she was attacked this morning, then why did the hospital call you so late?"

"I asked Dr. Schwartz the same thing." Dad was irritated too. "Of course he jerked me around, gave some excuse about waiting for the police to finish their 'initial investigation'. Personally, I think the hospital just wanted more time to get their stories straight."

"Who would wanna hurt Mom? And why?"

Dad shrugged, helpless. "I don't know. My guess? It was another patient. In places like that fights are bound to happen."

The news didn't make me feel better, but it did make the pill easier to swallow.

The front door slammed again, followed by the pounding of hurried footsteps as Margot raced into my bedroom.

"Dad!" She flew to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Margot sniffed and lifted her face. "Is Mom gonna be ok?"

"I hope so, Sweetheart." He kissed the top of her head.