In From The Night

late night call

   The sound of shattering glass is what wakes me up out of my sleep. My heart thundering in my chest. There's a loud thump and it all goes quiet. Ugh not again! I push the covers off me and slide into my robe and slippers. Why can't I just have a quiet night? I jog down the stairs and into the dark living room to see him on the floor behind the couch. The shattered beer bottle and parts of the mirror that's now broken glitter all over the floor. He's snoring, face bruised. Probably another bar fight. God.

"Come on dad."  I nudge him and nothing. "You can't sleep on the floor, come on." He raises a hand and pushes me away. I fall to the floor and hit my head. My hair falls out of the loose bun and my bangs come out all frizzy. He looks up at me and stares. "Mira?" He stumbles to pick himself up. I push off the ground but the glass bites into my skin drawing blood. "Shit." I try to pull out the pieces of glass.

"Did I hurt you?" He looks at me heartbroken his eyes soft, brown and sad. He cups my hands in his and picks out last few pieces of glass. He looks so much older than 34. The hairs have already turned grey in his beard. He doesn't even take care of himself anymore. "It's fine. Let's just get you to bed." Before I can turn away he wraps his arms around me. "Mira, I've missed you so much." His body shakes as he talks. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes is intoxicating but he never holds me like this so I enjoy it a little longer. Even if it's not me he thinks he's hugging. "I know." I whisper.

"I did everything I could, I swear." He's now full on sobbing, his chin on my head. "Why didn't you come back to me? You didn't even say goodbye." I sigh and gently push away. I guess now it's time to assume the roll. "I'm back for now. You need to take better care of yourself. Stumbling in here drunk and beaten up isn't how I want you to live." I say in a soft voice. People tell me I sound like my mother, it's enough to fool the love of her life. He nods and wipes his face. "I'll do better." He looks down at his feet. My heart breaks for him. Mom's death shattered him completely. "You need to be better for Rose." His face hardens and he grabs me by my shoulders.

"Why'd you do it?! Why did you have to get pregnant ? The doctors said it was too much. They said it would only make you weaker, Mira. Why didn't you listen to me? I told you. I told you I could never love someone that took you away from me. I told you I'd find a way to make you better but you didn't listen to me!" He sits in the couch and covers his face. "You left me Mira." His voice weak, almost as broken as he is. I try to hold back my tears. He's drunk. He's always drunk. It will be better in the morning.

"Lay down." I say he shakes his head not looking at me. I sigh "please Charles lay down. You need some rest." With that he gives it kicking off his boots and taking off his sweater he lays down on the couch. "I'll get Rose to make you breakfast in the morning. Make sure you eat do you hear me?" The tears escape from my eyes and they burn and they fall. He nods and closes his eyes. "I love you Mira" he starts to snore a few minutes after. "I know dad."

I pick up the glass as quietly as possible making sure to sweep twice. I grab a garbage bag from the kitchen and pull down the broken mirror from the wall putting it in the bag and taking it outside and throwing it into the garbage can in front of the house. I grab a blanket from the linen closet and drape it over him and retreat upstairs.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I guess it's easy to confuse me with my mother. She had shoulder length hair and occasionally cut her bangs just below her eyebrows. The only real visible differences between us is I'm two shades lighter and instead of her golden honey eyes mine are a lifeless grey. I think about the weekends we used to spend eating french toast and watching movies. After she died my father went off the deep end. I was my mother's child, dad and I were never close.

A wave of sadness overcomes me and I push it away and pull my book from my bookbag. I toss the book on to the bed while I shimmy out of my robe. The book falls open and as I get on the bed it looks like writing. "What?" I pull the book closer and laugh. "You're kidding me." There in black ink marker ten digits followed by "call me ~ Kit". I grab my phone off the nightstand and dial in the numbers.

There's a ring. Maybe this wasn't the best idea

Another ring. Yeah maybe I should hang up it's late.

Third ring. I'm going to hang up...

"Hello?" His voice comes off gruff and lazy like I just woke him up. "Who's this?" I can the agitation in his voice.

"Thirteen fifty." I say

"What?" There's a shuffle on the other side and some something makes a loud thud. "Shit." He whispers.

"That's how much my book costs. The one that you wrote in. What kind of person writes in books?"

Theres a soft laugh and a shuffle. "I was wondering when you'd find it." I roll my eyes and lay under the blanket. "What's wrong Grey? Can't sleep?" I put the phone on speaker and place it on the pillow next to me. "Talk to me." I let out a breath. "I don't even know where to start." I say.

"So start with today." Something about his voice is comforting almost understanding. I can't help but want to cave.

"I woke up to my alcoholic dad sprawled out on the living room floor for the third time this week. To make it better he thought I was my dead mother and basically said that he blames me for her death."

"Whoa, Im sorry." He sounded so sincere. I put my head back to stop the tears from forming. "How did she die?"

"Doctors said it was cancer. I dont know where or what kind he never wants to talk about it. She could have lived a long life since the tumor was so small the doctors could have gotten rid of it. She was supposed to have her surgery but then she found out she was pregnant so she couldnt get the procedure done. The docors told her that a baby could complicate the cancer and her chances of being cured. She didnt listen, my father begged and pleaded with her but she wanted me. More than almost anything in the world she wanted to be a mother. After I was born she started to get better but then when I turned ten she was hospitalized. The cancer grew like the doctor said it would and it killed her in a matter of weeks. I never had a relationship with my dad he was mainly just there but when she died I could tell he blamed me for it." For the first time telling my story to someone. Clay and Jade knew my mother died. I was friends with Clay when it happened but neither of them know how it affected me or how much it changed my life.

"That must be hard, not really having anyone there for you."

I shake my head though he can't see me. "For a little while I had my aunt. She moved the week my mother passed and helped around the house. Her being around gave my father an excuse why not to be. He'd get drunk and he'd break something or he'd stay out for days at a time. She ended up getting married and starting her own family when I turned sixteen and I've been on my own taking care of my father whenever he manages to find his way home."

"Why do you look after him after he gave up being a parent?"

"I don't know. Because he's my dad? Because though he doesn't see it, I'm all he has and vice versa."

"You have friends."

"They wouldn't understand even if I told them. They both live in a two parent house hold. They'd never fully understand what its like to feel alone the way I feel alone."

"Have your eyes always been grey?"

I laugh. "Yep. since birth, if I hadn't come out crying they would have thought I was dead."

There was a long silence.

"Let me take you out tomorrow."

"Aw you hear my sad life story and now you wanna take me out on a pity date?" I joke He laughs lightly.

"No, not a pity date. You seem like you could use some laughter and a good time. Let me take you on a regular date."

"I don't know it kind of sounds like a pity date."

"Oh come on, If it makes you feel better I won't even hold the door for you." I laugh and at the sound of me laughing he laughs too. It feels good.

"Fine, When and where?" I hold the blankets tighter unable to stop smiling.

"I can pick you up at six and from wherever you happen to be."

"Its a date."

"That it is, Goodnight Grey."

"Night Kit."