Not Important

Confused, annoyed, and saying horrible things

"Devon, we're here", a voice says softly, waking me up. I open my eyes to see Mark right in front of me. Getting out of the car, I move around to the back, and open the back door. How can one man be passed out for this long? Mark comes around to the other side, and we both start lifting him out.
"You get the legs, I'll get the arms", I tell him, and once we both have a hold of him, we start moving.
"Mark, you might want to lock your car up first", I warn him, and he holds the two feet in one hand, taking the keys out of his pocket.

Shutting the door, he locks his car, before we both continue on.
"Okay. I'll hold him whilst you open the door", Mark says, getting ready to hold my dad by himself.
"No need", I say.
With my back facing the door, I lift my leg, and kick it into the door. We continue on.

Once we have him in his bed, we both sit down on the settee.
"Do you want a drink?", I ask him.
"No thanks", Mark says.

Well, this is going to go downhill now. He'll want answers to questions that I can't bare for him to ask. He'll think in a creep, and not worthy to hang out with the popular crew. For some reason, this is important to me.
"Listen, I know you want answers, but-", I start, but he cuts me off.
Huh, now I know why interrupting people is annoying as hell.
"I get it. And I don't need answers. I kinda figured things out for myself on the most part. Your mom left your dad, your dad is a drunk, your mom cheated and now has two more children. You don't have to tell me anymore", Mark insists.

"What I really want to know is...why does your brother call you DW?", Mark asks, making me laugh.
"Why don't you think about it for a while, and then if you still don't know why, I'll tell you", I tell him, making him huff in annoyance. At his child-like action of protest, I laugh.

We both end up laughing and laughing, talking about anything at all.

-*-*-*-

I wake up to find myself on the settee, still in my clothes from yesterday. Apart from the whole dad thing and going to Maria's house, it was fun. Mark had bought me a cap just like his yesterday, and it's on the really small table that I have next to our settee. No joke, it's really small.

Why did I wake up again?

A noise erupts in the kitchen, a smash, and banging. Sitting up, I pull myself up, ready to go and wrestle the beer off of dad. When I walk into the kitchen, I see him looking through the cupboards, glasses smashing in the process. We won't have many left if he goes on, and I was planning to sell them!

"Dad! Stop it!", I yell at him.
He turns to look at me, standing up from off of his knees, and coming to stand in front of me.
"Where did you put my beers?", he asks me, this sentence being the first one he's said to me in days. Maybe weeks?
"I didn't put them anywhere. We ran out", I tell him, having had this argument two hundred times before.
"No, we didn't. You stole them, didn't you? You hid my beers from me again", he accuses me, pointing a finger at me. He looks like he's actually going mental, and his bruised face looks worse than last night.

"Dad, stop being ridiculous. I didn't steal your beers this time. And we need to talk", I tell him, wanting an answer for why he has been harassing Maria, and why he didn't tell me I had two siblings and he knew where mom lived. All of this needs to come out in the open between us. I'm sick of the lies and secrets.
"Oh shut up! I'm not saying anything until I have my beer!", he screams back at me.
"Why did you not tell me I have two half-siblings?", I ask him.

He looks at me, and I can't tell what he's thinking. Maybe he really doesn't know. But the twins knew him by name.
"How do you know that? Has Maria told you? Is she trying to rip you away from me so I have to live alone?", he asks me.
"No!", I say back, repulsed by the idea of mom wanting me back.
"You're working together. You are going to leave me by myself. You bitch! Why the fücking hell would you do that?!", he screams, his eyes wide and red.
"Dad! I would never do that!", I shout back.