Deal With It ✓

Twelve: Broken Promises

Song: Same Ol' Mistakes // Rihanna

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My night was restless.

My sleep was plagued by a dream that comprised of a CPS agent showing up on our doorstep, unannounced like last time, only to find my sister drunk out of her mind. They then took her away from me, and she just let them– she barely put up a fight, it was like she wanted to go, she didn't want to be under my care. I then sat in the house, by myself, and my dad's figure in the portrait came to life. 

He looked down at me like I was the biggest disappointment he'd ever encountered. "I asked you to do one thing, Dylan," He spat. "And you went ahead and fucked that up? You're pathetic as shit."

And with that blow to the heart, he plucked baby Amber off of me and left so that it was just me in the portrait. Smiling at nothing with an empty, awkward space surrounding me.

Suffice to say after that dream, I didn't try to shut my eyes. Instead, I sat up on my bed so that my back was resting against the headboard and stared at the window that hid behind the curtains. The sun was just beginning to rise, so I didn't find the point in trying to go back to sleep. I pulled back the covers, put on a pair of sweatpants, and made my way downstairs. I didn't usually go to work during the weekends given I'd decided that I didn't feel good when I was cooped up in the office for seven days out of a week.

I filled the kettle up with some water and, while I waited, I prepared a mug by putting a tea bag inside of it with two teaspoons of sugar. I stared out of the window parallel to the kitchen workspace and thought back to last night. I knew that I was mad about what Amber had done– she'd promised me that she wouldn't drink and although I was hesitant about the entire ordeal, I allowed her to go, against my better judgment.

I raked my hands through my hair out of frustration and ran it down my face until it reached my stubble. I scratched my jaw a bit and spun around so that I was leaning against the workspace. What was she thinking? She was too young to be drinking– did she not know about what could've happened if she never called me? I sure as hell did. In fact, my brain wouldn't stop running through the endless possibilities of what could have happened.

My eyes flickered to the portrait that was somewhat visible from the inside of the kitchen and I couldn't help but picture my dad's figure sitting on the counter opposite to where I was standing. He was staring back at me with an expressionless visage, and I couldn't tell whether he was disappointed in me or not.

"La famille est toute," He said whilst maintaining a stoic expression. "Don't forget that."

I dismissed the hallucination by turning around to pour the scalding water into my mug and I watched as it slowly turned a dark green. How the fuck was I going to approach Amber? How was she going to approach me? I had a feeling that she was going to sweep this entire thing under the rug and I frowned at the thought.

After we had gotten home, I woke her up, and although she was slightly out of it, she was conscious enough to chug down the bottle of water I had handed her. She didn't say anything the entire time but she still refused to meet my eyes. I helped her up to her room and contemplated whether or not I should tell her to change into some pajamas, but she fell asleep as soon as she put her head on the pillow so I just pulled the covers over her, closed the blinds and left her room. I almost missed the new addition to what she called her 'picture wall'. In the center of the wall was the image that she, Rose, and I took the day of my birthday when they surprised me with a celebration.