Chapter 59

I had been wrong, despite the time, my dad had been home. He was still in his pajamas which meant he hadn't even been planning on going out soon. Which I found honestly odd because he wasn't the type to miss work for any reason. I didn't know what schedule was like, but I did know that he sometimes took it as an excuse to get away. That had to be the first time I had seen him around on a weekend, looking somewhat relaxed. 

Somewhat.... because once you took a second glance at him and decided to concentrate on his features, you'd see the worry lines creasing his face. And hooding his eyes. He had been standing by the kitchen counter, a glass of what I presumed to be warm water in his hand and his head bowed as if deep in thought. He hadn't really seen me, and that God awful part of me that had made me run off now wanted me to just head over to my room without informing him of my return. 

' He'd know when he does, it's not your duty to report back to him ', that's basically what that little evil voice kept telling me. And I know I wasn't supposed to be attracted to it but I was. I had been listening to that voice for so many years, I could almost think of it as my unprincipled imaginary friend. My little devil which was always on my shoulder. Telling me the things I ought to do regardless of me knowing they were wrong. This time however, I didn't succumb to it's odd appeal. Maybe it was because I suspected my dad looked like that because of me. Dropping my backpack on the floor outside the kitchen, I cautiously walked in. If he dared to turn that into a fight then I'd walk out, simple and clear. He finally heard me, then he slowly looked up and a mixture of complex emotions crossed over his features in the span of a second. I couldn't read them all. I saw some pills on the counter which he had either just taken or was intending to take. Something for his stress maybe. 

He didn't say anything, he just looked at me with narrowed eyes. And I realized that he was looking at me like he didn't  even know who I was. As if he had completely forgotten me in just three days, and when he realized that I also wasn't planning on saying anything, he took a sip of his water and then shook his head.  

" The prodigal son returns, " he muttered afterwards. Then he took the little bottle of pills and put it in his pocket before looking at me again. Normally, when I looked at him, I could tell that he had thousands of things to tell me. But this time his expression was blank, he just looked tired. 

" What? You want me to yell? Tell you how much of a disappointment you are? Demand to know where the hell you were all this time?" He sarcastically asked. Then he scoffed and shook his head before he walked out of the kitchen and left me standing there. 

That must have been the very first time I felt a pang of guilt inside me. I was used to his rage, to the fact that he was always ready to challenge my wishes and my opinions. I didn't even know that he had the ability to be so calm, yet that calmness actually affected me more than I would have ever expected. And the fact that even his expression showed he really was tired. So maybe he had decided to let me be, to do whatever the hell I wanted. 

If I continued thinking about all that I was probably going to be in an even worse mood than I already was, so I also walked out and headed straight to my room. And immediately after walking in, I stopped and frowned.

The place was an absolute mess. 

And not in the sense of random scattered pieces of clothing or an unmade bed. The room looked as if it had been turned upside down. The drawers were all opened and almost everything I owned was on the floor. As if someone had spent a lot of time in there just going through my things and discarding them on the floor afterwards. 

I walked in until I got to one of the drawers, then I stopped and looked inside. it was completely empty, they all were. But I was concerned about that one in particular because...

" Looking for this?" 

My dad's voice again. I immediately turned towards the door where he was standing. Then my eyes fell to his hand. 

As I had previously mentioned, I didn't do drugs. I had maybe tried it once because of curiosity but that was just about it. I did however own some. For example, there was the little pack of molly in his hand which I had gotten as a 'gift' from a 'friend' once. She had said I looked like type that was into such things and had placed it on my pocket without telling me what it was. And despite knowing I could easily throw it away, I never had. I don't know why I chose to hang onto it. It's not like I had future plans of actually using it, but the look on my dad's face told me he believed I was well acquainted with the drug. Because otherwise why would I have it?

" You get into fights! you get suspended and expelled countless times! You fail your classes! You run away like some abandoned child and now you apparently also do drugs, "

" Have you ever seen me do them?" 

Curse my inability to stay silent while he accused me of something I wasn't guilty for. I was aware that I could approach the issue sensibly, but I didn't want to. He wouldn't believe me anyways so what was the point? And when it came to my dad, I knew very well that if I cowered and gave in he'd just feel like he had won. It wasn't supposed to be a competition, but it was to me. 

On hearing my words he fisted his hand around the little packet of drugs, there were about five of them in there. 

" And all this for what? " He asked afterwards. 

" Because I want you to study and build a future for yourself? Because I make sure you're provided for? Because I fucking care?!" 

I looked away. If I talked nothing good was going to come out of it. I knew myself well enough to be sure of that fact. I liked to fight back in ven when it wasn't necessary to do so,I liked riling him up and getting him on edge because it was the only time I got an actual reaction from him. So I tended to make that reaction as strong as I could. Even if it was anger. 

" I'm done with you Austin, " he finally said. 

" Drop out if you want to, your bike's in the garage, use it to run off again if you wish. I can't keep doing this, " he gesture to the space between us and shook his head. Then he threw the drugs down and they landed on my shirt on the floor. 

" I don't know who the hell you are, but there's no way you're the same kid my Angela gave birth to. No way, " with that, he left. And I felt it as that feeling of guilt multiplied inside me. Those words had stung much more than almost everything else he had ever said to me. He always refrained from mentioning my mom, maybe because he knew that it would manage to really hurt me. So him finally doing so was proof that he had indeed reached the last straw. He was no longer able to put up with him because I had pushed him way too far. I had succeeded in making him leave me alone. I looked around the room once more, then I started slowly picking up my things and placing them on my bed, but some minutes later I couldn't do it anymore. I went to my bathroom and headed straight for the sink. Turning on the tap and looking at myself in the mirror. 

How many times had I told him that I wanted to drop out? Yet now what he had given me the freedom to do so I felt more trapped than I had been before. I couldn't even see clearly because all those emotions were grinding me up inside. There was no relief, just the opposite of it. I had an issue with processing any awful and unfamiliar emotion. I always resulted to anger and ended up acting violent. And in that moment I felt the anger as it rise from nowhere. Maybe it was because he had brought up my mom,or maybe it was because I was just angry at him for giving up. I knew it made no sense but he wasn't supposed to fucking give up! Even if it meant us fighting and arguing for the rest of our lives, he was supposed to fight back!

I didn't want him to give me the permission to do whatever I pleased, because that meant that whenever I did anything he wasn't going to react. He had basically just excluded himself from my life. Walked away without having to do so literally. He had stopped caring about my choices and actions which in turn meant he had stopped caring about me. I looked at myself in the mirror, hated how weak I felt. I hated that after so much time I could actually feel tears threatening to fall. I had always hated that choked feeling which you experienced before you broke apart. I loathed it with everything I had because my head automatically related it to everything bad I had ever gone through. They'd all just come flooding back. And when my eyes actually welled up I was desperate to put an end to it. I wouldn't let them fall, I wasn't going to accept that he had managed to get to me. I fisted my hands and groaned, turning around and fisting a hand in my hair. Trying to gather the good thoughts, any good thoughts. But they all refused to float to the surface of my mind. I turned around once more, and without thinking I used all my energy to punch the mirror, knowing it was illogical and I'd without a doubt regret it. But it was an impulsive action, and I had already done it. But then afterwards, as I sat on my bed and looked at my hand, as I felt the actual physical pain that was as a result of what I had done, I realized that I still felt awful. 

I needed HIM. 

He was the only one I wanted to see. 

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KYLE'S POV

I had wished to get a good night's sleep, possibly wake up a little later than I was used to. So I had set up an alarm for around six thirty. 

But I ended up waking up almost an hour before that. Not out of will, but because of the loud noises coming from the other room, my mom's in particular. At first I ignored it, assumed they were still in there drinking and messing around, but then she screamed and I heard some sort of noise. I instantly work up and got off the bed, then I hurriedly made my way to the living room and stopped. Timmy and the other guy from last night were in some kind of stupid physical brawl. Timmy was half drunk and the other seemed ready to fall to the ground at any second, and my mom, who wasn't much better off herself was unsuccessfully  trying to pry them apart. The place smelt even worse than it did the previous night, and they were all being too loud. 

" Get off him you bastard! " My mom yelled. And I realized that she was yelling at Timmy who was trying to wrap his hand around the stranger's neck. But they could all hardly stand up on their feet. 

" Why are you defending him? So it's true then?" 

" And what if it is? It's my goddamned business.." she tried pointing an accusing finger at him but stumbled back for whatever reason and almost fell,but she was able to maintain her balance. 

A lot was said, many unethical words were exchanged. It felt wrong just standing there because if the entire context of the argument and the fact that my mother said whatever she wished to say. And they were things I wasn't supposed to hear for the mere fact that I was her son. 

" Okay, that's enough!" I declared, walking over to the two jerks and getting them off each other. The stranger ended up falling and I made no attempt to help him. 

" Out, come on.." I began leading Timmy to the door. You could say I had gained some experience over the years when it came to such situations. And he was too drunk to be an actual threat. He kept shouting all the way to the door, I unlocked it and pushed him out. 

" Go home!  " I instructed, pointing towards the hallway before I locked the door and went back for the other guy. I wasn't surprised when Timmy began pounding on the door. 

" Where did Timmy go?" My mom asked, looking around with her half opened eyes, staggering in the same spot as if the floor was slippery. 

" Timmy? Timothy where the hell are you?" She began shouting. 

" Up, come on. Otherwise I'll drag you out!" I told the other guy, I didn't even have th energy to actually frag him out,he was too large and I wasn't string enough for that. It took a lot of effort but he finally stood, and I kept a firm hold on him and started leading him to the door. My mom, currently in the floor, was shouting all sorts of nonsense.. Timmy was still pounding on the door and I was next level pissed off. It was too early! When I got to the door,I cautiously opened it up and threw the other guy out. What happened to them or what they chose to do afterwards was none of my concern. As soon as I locked the door I turned around and blew out a long much needed breath. Then I placed a hand on my waist and shook my head. Any sleep I had was long gone. I made my way to my mom and went down on one knee next to her. 

" Mom, get up," I wrapped my hand around her upper arm and wrapped the other around her waist. She mostly consumed alcohol,sometimes when  I was younger she would forget about food and go for two days without. Only eating when I made the food and gave it to her. So she weighed much less than what she was supposed to. She didn't fight back, so I decided to take her to he room instead of the couch.