nepenthe
nɪˈpɛnθiːz/
noun
something that can make you forget grief or suffering.
*
Everyone needs something to take the pain away every so often, and for him, that was her.
copyright 2020
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
F U N L I E S
*
My expression dropped as soon as I saw the fake blonde who sat cradling a bottle and glass at the open dining room table, "Clarisse, I didn't think you'd be home."
She scrunched her nose as she subtly sized up the petite girl who stood politely by my side, "Clearly."
I felt disgusted that she would dare look at Brandy in that way, considering how much love the seventeen year old had compared to the wicked woman.
"This is my friend Brandy," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck. I felt bad that the golden girl ever had to meet Clarisse, especially when she was clearly more than a few drinks in.
"I didn't think Christian did 'friends'," my mother scoffed once more, standing up to gain some stature, wine glass in hand as she reassessed Brandy with her dissaproval evident in her piercing blue eyes.
I clicked my tongue, the way she looked at Brandy with her poison dripping eyes annoying me the most. I couldn't just let her look at someone that way without shooting some venom back, "Ah, you see, I don't do my friends, unlike you, Clarisse."
She released a harsh glare on my soul before turning to Brandy with a hand on her hip, "You know that pivotal aspect that you're searching for in him that makes him a 'great person' under this brute? That doesn't exist."
Brandy faked a laugh, the sound echoing eerily though the dying house, "Oh, I'm not searching for anything. It's just sex." She stated casually with a lazy shrug, the ghost of a smirk on her lips.
Clarisse's jaw dropped at the girl's blatant answer, shock written over her makeup stained skin. I held my jaw from dropping, too. I was impressed.
"Bye, we'll be quiet, promise," I winked with a venomous smile, taking Brandy's hand and leading her upstairs to my room.
When we made it free of my mother, I looked at Brandy, a small proud smile reaching my lips as she giggled softly before her glance got lost in the new area.
"I didn't know you had it in you," I said, my shoulder resting against the door frame as I folded my arms.
"What?" She asked distractedly, looking around my room curiously as she took in her surroundings.
"The capability to question authority."
She sent me her favourite mocking glare with a hint of her classic smile, "Well, thank you very much, but I only question questionable authority," She flopped onto my bed, making herself at home. She pulled out a joint, offering it to me as if asking me to relax. I declined, but allowed her to spark it, taking a deep gulp of the weed before speaking, "What's your problem with her anyway? Bitchy step-mum?" the smoke left her lips as I closed my door and headed over to my desk.
