Cheap Shots

00:21

UNEDITED

21.

            Sunday.

            The dreaded day I was not looking forward too, the unavoidable day when Matt would be released from his prison and definitely come looking for “the only family he had left.”  At least, that’s what he called us the last time he was released from prison, the day a year and a half ago, when he came back after hopelessly involving my brother in the drugs that would lead to the ending of his life.

            It’s not something forgivable. 

            It wasn’t Matt’s fault that Heath overdosed, but it was sure as hell his fault that the fourteen-year-old boy ever got involved in drugs in the first place. 

            He was too innocent.

            I could blame it partially on the school district, for not having programs dedicated to teaching students about the negative effects of drug use, besides the pointless “hugs not drugs” campaigns or “drugs are bad, don’t do them,” speeches every child over the age of ten has received. 

            I could blame it on my mother and father, for not noticing his depression sooner, for taking Heath out of therapy when he really needed it the most.

            But I knew that if I blamed it on anything other than Matt, I would start to blame myself.  For not noticing, not spending time with him, for out casting him because he didn’t fancy interacting with anything other than a pencil and paper. 

            Everyone has those days when you don’t feel up for anything, the inevitable days when your world couldn’t be bleaker, the colorful sky not enough of a contrast to your withering heart and blackening soul.

            Today was my day.

            “Orion!”  My mother called from downstairs.  “I’m going to pick up Matt!  Are you okay staying home or do you want to come?”

            “Are you insane?”  I stormed out of my room and up the stairs to the main floor.  “You’re picking up that bastard at prison?  You were crying over him last week, you can’t be serious!  He deserves to rot there!”  I screamed at her, my emotions overpowering me.

            “Don’t speak to me in that tone,” she scolded me sharply, her eyes blazing as she stared at me with a furious expression.  “It’s not his fault for Heath’s death, Orion, and you need to realize that.  You’re acting like a bitch and you need to snap out of it and not cause trouble while we’re gone.”

            I felt like crying.  My stomach was churning at the sound of her words,  “It’s not his fault for Heath’s death, Orion,” chanting over and over in my mind, taunting me. 

            “It’s not his fault?”  My voice was steadily rising as I screamed, shaking with anger as I clenched my fists tightly.  “Not his fault!  Who do you think gave Heath the drugs, mom?  Are you too blind to see that?  You can’t be crying over him one minute and forget his existence the next!  You can’t hate Matt and love him a week later!  It doesn’t fucking work like that!”

            She took a menacing step forward and slapped me hard across the face, leaving a stinging pain as my head whipped to the left.  I didn’t move it from its position, even after feeling a tear slip out of the corner of my eye.  “Don’t talk about Heath or Matt like that,” she told me harshly.