The thing about being young and reckless; was that things happened so fast, maybe sometimes too fast.
Like it could take two years to build a friendship with someone, and a day to change all that, an eternity to have your mind programmed one specific way, and one second of spending time with some junkie you don't even know to change the way you thought about everything.
And one night where one of your parents didn't come home, to throw your life entirely out of orbit
Nothing new
That Friday my father never came home.
My mother went ape-shit crazy and began raving on about - I wasn't sure what exactly. I was pissed at her despite the fact that I was worried where my father was. I was pissed at my mother for how she went on, making it all about her. She went on as if no one else noticed, which we had, but maybe no one noticed how 'worried' she was.
It was that week that my father had taken a full week of leave, so he had been at home all week. So it was not as if he was at work, he practically just disappeared out of thin air.
And my mother couldn't live with any explanation.
Saturday night my mother was about to call the cops, when my father's car tore up in the front garden ripping apart the garden as he parked on my mother's plants, he came into the house and kicked the front door open, the door banged against the wall behind it causing all the glass in the front door to shatter and fall on the ground. The phone in my mother's hand fell to the ground the moment she heard my father's car.
He barrelled through the kitchen and she ran after him.
He ignored her when she called after him, and he shrugged her off when she tried to grab him. I came down from the stairs hearing all the noise, and saw my angry father barrelling up the stairs full speed. I backed up, but he was fast, my mother not far behind running after him, tears streaming down her face.
''Dad'' - I said my voice shaky.
He looked at me as if noticing me for the first time, a look I couldn't quite decipher painted on his face. He pushed me out of the way with force, I saw the anger flash for that brief second, when my mother called after him, and I had said his name in sync with my mother's voice, also sending him a silent plea for the look on his face sent chills all the way down to my toes.
- My body flew to the left due to the impact of the hit, my head knocking the railing of the stairs, the back of my head zinging, my head also causing my sight to blur.
I lay there for a while blinking. Looking around me trying to comprehend, but it was as if my hearing volume was turned down to mute. I saw my dad screaming at my mother, my mother yelling back, small dots of spit flying as she yelled back at him. I saw Matt exit his room. I raised my hand gesturing for him to go back into his room. I got up to my feet, and walked towards my parents room catching a glimpse of a duffel bag laying open on the bed, my dad shoving clothes in the bag hastily, my mother perched on the edge of the bed, bent over like she was pleading like an infant would to the mother, and my father ignoring her and packing faster and faster
It was like watching a loop, my mother's desperate sobs, and my father shoving more and more into his bag
He didn't even look at my mother, hell; he didn't look up at all, as if he were too afraid of what might be staring right back at him
Well at least now I know where I got my cowardice from
I watched him, his every move, how all of his actions were so rushed, like every second he spent in this house, was a second more of absolute and complete agony.
What I saw then was a man who wanted to get out, who needed to get out
And I won't pretend that it didn't hurt
Because I realised what that meant; He needed to get away, from the house, from mom, from us
And even though it killed me, I bit back tears and used my pride as an armour to help aid me with the strength I needed to walk past his bedroom, into the direction of my own instead.
I lay back on my bed, folding my arms over my head, blocking out the screaming as I felt the tears coming down slowly, almost painfully.
Matt came silently into my room, I barely heard him till he nudged my shoulder.
I wiped my tears away in one heartbeat
He climbed on the bed
''What's happening?'' he asked quietly
I took a moment to regain some composure so that I could at least be a little bit strong for Matt.
I considered assuring him that everything was going to be okay, and that he had nothing to worry about,- but call it selfishness; I couldn't do it. I could barely be strong for myself, how could I be strong for him
''I don't know" is what I managed to get out
Matt and I stayed in my room, till we heard the doors slam, and my mother screaming into emptiness.
Another tear involuntarily slid down my cheek, I got up from the bed after a long wait, and tiptoed downstairs.
My mother was on the kitchen floor kneeling whilst facing the frame of what once was a glass door, the pieces of the door scattered around her like a shield
''Mom- '' I said slowly walking towards her. She cried harder.
''Mom''
She spun around to look at me.
''Fuck off'' she said in a shaky voice,
''Mom'' I said again trying to console her
''I said fuck off you cunt!'' she screamed
The words hurt, and tears sprang from my eyes, and I felt the anger inside me settle on my face, I backed up.
''Both of you care about no one else besides your fucking selves, you make my life a living hell hole, do you know that!!! '' She screamed, her face red and flushed, her nose running, she wiped it harshly
''ungrateful bastards, I don't know what I did to deserve this'' she cried more while staggering to the fridge pulling out a bottle of vodka, muttering and whining whilst yanking off the top off the bottle and drinking quarter of it in one go, I stood there watching her disgusted.
She drank more
''I'll just fucking kill myself, see you last without me'' she muttered
I scoffed
Her eyes shot up to me the moment the sound left my mouth. She walked up to me so close that I could smell the stink of vodka on her breath
''This is your fault'' she said scrunching up her face, ''all of this is fucking your fault''
Classic we were actually playing the blaming game; my family was known for the blaming game.
And just like that every inkling of remorse or pity I had left in me evaporated and was now replaced with a searing sense of disgust
''I'm guessing it's my fault that you cheat on dad as well'' I spat out angrily
She looked at me with such hatred, that I instantly regretted letting the words leave my mouth
''Shut your mouth you tramp'' she said slapping me hard across the face, her hand cold because of the chilled vodka bottle
I was too angry now to stop
''And it's my fault that you unhappy'' I added
She screamed and threw the bottle on the ground at my feet, more glass shattering; I took another step towards her
''And it's my fault that you gave birth to me, sorry for the burden Mom, because I apparently 'chose' to be born'' my voice was shrilly and high pitched now
I know this was the most dramatic 'teen' thing to say in the history of melodramatic statements muttered by teenagers, but I didn't care, for some reason I had deemed this moment the perfect one to suddenly provoke mom
''And it must be my fault that dad wal- ''
''I said; SHUT THE FUCK UP!'' she screeched
I flinched, and took a step back, stepping in the glass that was recently thrown on the ground my bare feet tearing and burning, due to the glass.
Despite the extreme pain I felt then, I wasn't done, at least my mouth wasn't
''And it's probably my fault that all of this happened, because nothing is ever your fault '' I said softly
My Mom stood inches from me now; I looked at her dead in the eye
''It's because of you that your father walked out'' she hissed
I scoffed
This woman is ridiculous
''Whatever you have to tell yourself Mom'' I said, my voice bitter
She slapped me again her nails raking across my face in the process this time.
I looked at her and raised my fingers to touch my cheek,
I wanted to say something back, but instead I turned around to walk away
''Well it's your fault that dad might not ever come back'' I couldn't help myself, I also had seen the amount of clothes my father had put in the bag.
My mother yanked me by my hair and flung me onto the ground into the pile of uneven, blunt, thick shattered glass.
My body was screaming from all the pain as the shards sunk into my flesh
I watched her walk away, switching off the lights in spite, leaving me in the dark.
The wind blew in from the shattered door, my body shivering in response
That night I remember crying myself to sleep