Be My Addiction

45 • Confrontation

Ethan

Walking in through the door, I hear conversation go silent. When I looked at the living room, I could see mom and dad sitting on the couches. It was strange to see them home, let alone at the same time. “What are you guys doing home? Shouldn’t you be working or something?” I hadn’t meant to have a bit of a tone in my voice, but I’ve had a bad day and I couldn’t keep my mood under wraps.

They both exchanged looks before my father ran his hand over his face. He had eyes just like mine. That was probably the only similarity we shared. If I went outside more then twenty minutes a day, I’m sure I would have his tan complexion, but that was about it. I took after my mom for the most part. Her dark hair and height. Granted, I’m not exactly small but I’m more her height than my fathers. 

“Ethan, will you come here for a moment? We have something we’d like to say.” He spoke, drawing me out of my thoughts.

Sure. They finally wanted to talk to me. And no doubt about me missing some school recently. I couldn’t think of any other reason for them wanting to talk to me. Turning my back to them, I move to leave, “I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

“Dear, please sit down.” My mother spoke, concern in her voice, though I’m not sure she had the right to be concerned about me anymore. “We know you’ve been going through a lot. That’s why we want to talk.”

That comment made my pent up anger towards them flare to life, and I spun to glare at them, “You have no idea what I’m going through.” I yelled, making them both flinch. I’m not the type of person to yell. Ignoring their shocked expression, I continued to speak, “How could you? You’re never around! Why is that? Is it because you hate me? You blame me for Brian’s death, don’t you?”

I hadn’t meant to ask that aloud, but I couldn’t help it. Why else would they just leave me like that?

“What? Why would you think that?” Flabbergasted, my father spoke, the shock written on his features. “We would never hate you.” He insisted, though I’m sure no one would blame me for not believing him. “Things have just been hard. We thought you needed space”

“That is the last thing I needed!” They couldn’t have been more wrong. “You don’t understand. I NEEDED you! You left me alone and I’m sure you have no idea about anything I’ve been going through” I saw the concern flash in my mother’s eyes and I knew I just gave information I would have to elaborate on.

“What do you mean?” she stood and took a step towards me. I didn’t want her to touch me though, and I knew she would try. If she touched me, I’d probably start crying, even though I told myself I was done with crying.

“I’m a junky, Mom!” I snapped, making her step back. “And I’m bullied at school now. But you would know this if you were here.”

I watched her flinch again as guilt crossed her features. She rubbed her arm a bit as her hazel eyes slid towards my father, “You’re right.. I’m so sorry.” She spoke softly, as if she was scared of speaking any louder. 

Maybe I was being too harsh..

“We should have been here.” Dad admitted, though he was stating the obvious, “Admittedly, we aren’t the best parents.”

“Yeah, no kidding…” I scoffed, making them both look down in shame. I almost didn’t regret that statement. It was true. 

I looked away from them, a frown working onto my expression.

“What do you mean you’re a junky?” My mom changed the subject, bringing my attention back to her.

I sighed, “Oxycotin.” I started shortly after seeing both of my parents waiting for me to say something. “I started taking it when I got injured... And I couldn’t stop until recently..”

“So you’re clean now?” she continued, trying to work out information.

I decided to just tell her. It would make things easier on my end, “Yeah..”

“What made you stop?” It was my father’s turn to ask.

“That’s a long story..” I said softly. It would be easy to say ‘a friend helped me’, but they’d be missing important information.

Both my parents looked at each other before they sat down. My father motioned for me to sit across from them. When I sat, my mom gave me a reassuring smile. 

“I think it’s time we made time to hear it.” She spoke softly.
I couldn’t help my small smile.

“Ok”