Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Holy fuck!" I erupted, my voice carried a mixture of anger and frustration, sending my words echoing through the air. The sharpness of such an outburst left my throat feeling raw, stinging from the force. I slammed the door behind me in a storm of fury as I walked out of my house. The door vibrated against the frame, the whole scene really felt like some dramatic exit from a bad soap opera. Once outside I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I descended the stairs, my heart racing with a mixture of adrenaline and defiance, I waited for the inevitable response.
True to my suspicions, the door swung open and revealed my mother standing there with her own fiery gaze. "Don't plan on coming home!" Her words were laced with venom, something I had grown accustomed to over time. My arm shot up, my middle finger proudly saluting her as I pivoted on my heel and stalked away down the sidewalk.
I was heading towards the Gallaghers' house, somewhere that had been my sanctuary for years, some sort of refuge from the tempestuous storms of my own home. Fiona, the oldest, was always an understanding and welcoming presence, always offering a couch for me to crash on whenever my mother's irrational whims sent me away. It was an unspoken agreement - and in exchange for a roof over my head, for how ever long, I pitched in around the house.
I pushed open the gate, familiarity set in as my footsteps were guided by muscle memory. Habitually, I strode right into the house, the creaking door alerted whoever was inside of my presence. But I was greeted by an eerie silence - no sounds of laughter, no clinking dishes. The living room and kitchen were vacant, as if frozen in a surreal moment.
Feeling uneasy, I climbed the stairs, my steps a gently cadence against the wooden boards. The room that sat at the end of the hallway belonged to the boys. Hesitation tugged at me for a split second before I entered the room, my eyes falling upon the scene within.
The familiar squeaking of the bunk bed to my right ceased, replaced by hushed whispers that concealed secrets beneath the covers. I suppressed a sigh, I was all too familiar with the dynamic at play. My suspicions were confirmed when Lip's tumble from the top bunk resounded in a loud thud, the air escaped his lings in a gruff grunt. "Good morning, Lip." I said, an amused arched eyebrow.
Slowly he managed to pick himself up, his voice scratchy as he returned the greeting. "Uh, yeah... hi."
"Hi, Karen," I offered her a polite nod to the sheepish figure in the bunk. I was well away of their early morning rendezvous I had rudely interrupted. "Don't worry, I'm just here for Ian," I stated matter-of-factly, watching as Lip awkwardly clambered back into his bunk, sharing an exchange of glances with Karen. My gaze, however, shifted towards a slumbering Ian. I leaned in close, whispering, "Wake up." A nudge to his side punctuated my request for him to rise.
Startled, Ian's response was swift and profane, "Fucking shit," he blurted out, his head jerking up with a force that met my forehead with an unintended collision.
Laughter bubbled up from my chest as I straightened out, my hand reaching for my head instinctively to soothe the ache. "Good morning-" I said, "Guess what, my mom's kicked me out again... So, it's looking like I'll be your bunkmate for the foreseeable future." I confided in a hushed tone, a conspiratorial secret meant only for him.
