Never Too Late

Decompress

Khrysta decided to take a walk around town. She had no idea what gave her the notion, but she figured it was better than sitting around in her room trying to figure out her geometry lesson on a strained mind and short temper. She stopped by a few of her preferred hang-out areas, and caught up with some people she hadn't spoke to in a while. Everything had been going as she would normally expect, that was until she found him in the park...

Mastace found a bench in a public park not too far from his former house. He just sat there, letting the thoughts in his mind stew and marinate in the raw energy of his newly-resurrected emotions. Why hadn't he seen the warning signs sooner? He should have paid more attention to his father, and maybe, just maybe, helped prevent this from happening again. He just figured he had no chance of having the proper self-control to abstain, so he didn't even bother putting in the effort to make an attempt. I just don't get why it had to be so soon.

Mastace looked up at just the right moment... and caught Khrysta staring right at him. Oh, Lord... he thought.

Oh, Lord. He looks terrible, she thought as she got a solid look at his face and the light that was held in his eyes. No, she corrected. He looks defeated... Beaten. Man...

"Hey," she said.

"Hello," Mastace said, his voice flat and his body language passive.

"What's going on? Something happen?" Khrysta asked.

"No." Mastace said. "Nothing ever happens... It's always the same, and I'm tired of it." His arms crossed, ears flattened and his tail swished around in his frustration.

He's about to blow... Here we go...

"What are you tired of, Mastace?"

"It's not a matter of what, but who I'm tired of. And I'm tired of my father. He doesn't seem like he wants to change. He's stuck in his own little rut and he refuses to make any effort in getting himself out."

"What do you mean?"

A small gust of wind picked up and Khrysta caught a whiff of a strong scent. She winced and stumbled back a step. Mastace watched this and knew immediately what had happened.

"That's what I mean."

"Damn, that's powerful."

"I know. And that's not the worst of it. It gets pretty bad when he chooses the wrong one, and I'm the one who has to handle everything when he loses control. It's a horrible mess to tend to, and sometimes he's not the only one that wakes up with a few aches and pains, but he's the only one with a hangover. I refuse to allow any of that shit into my body."

"I know what that feels like... In my family, it was my brother and my mother. Neither of them are around anymore. She got lucky and had a heart attack that ended her quickly. He wasn't so fortunate. He drank until he was so poisoned that there was nothing that could be done." Khrysta shuffled her foot around in the dirt on the sidewalk as she said this.

"I'm sorry. It's a tragedy to lose someone you care about to something as heartless as this kind of addiction."

"Thanks... I was eleven when she died, and he followed two years later. He was nineteen years old."

"So young... Both of you..." Mastace looked at the space between his feet. He tried to imagine what he would do if he ever got the news that his father had finally downed one too many whiskies and they couldn't save him. Would he even go to the funeral if one was held? Could he?

Khrysta watched him for a moment, then said "You walked out on him, didn't you?"

Mastace looked up at her in shock. "What? How could you even make an assumption like that?"