Just Hate Me and We'll End It Here

Bailey

I groan, leaning against the couch. My couch. In my apartment and that my best friend has kicked me out of. “It’s stupid. Ridiculous. Insane. Crazy. You know what? I won’t do it. I might as well kill myself now. Where’s a knife?”

Sighing heavily, Missy takes my arm and yanks me back into the cushions. I cross my arms stubbornly, ducking my chin like a kid. “You are not going to kill yourself,” Missy points her finger at me. “Because you are an adult, and you will handle this responsibly.”

“Psh, I don’t have to.”

“I’m saying you will! And it’s just a weekend,” she adds, trying to calm me down. “Two, three days. It can’t be that bad.”

“Alex. Alex’s mom. Alex’s dad. All three of them. In the same friggin’ house,” I snap. “Of course it will be.”

She crosses her own arms. “And this is coming from the girl who said that-”

“Nothing,” I snap hurriedly. “I didn’t mean it. I was in panic mode because he wasn’t letting me have my personal space. It’s like he sleeps outside my bedroom, waiting for me to come out.”

“When you’d prefer him to already be in your room?” She questions innocently.

I send her a dark look. “Hilarious.”

Missy sighs and sits on the couch next to me, laying a hand on my knee. “Come on, Bailey. It’s just a weekend. It’s not a week. A few family meals. Maybe some games.”

“You’re going to make me throw up,” I look away.

“Just because you didn’t have one yourself-!” Missy bites her tongue quickly, wincing. “I- I didn’t mean…”

I stand, shrugging her hand away as she tries to pathetically apologize. “No, go ahead, and say it. If you’re thinking it, you might as well say it.” My arms crossed, I face the window.

“No,” she whispers. “That was wrong, and rude. Come on, Bay, you know I didn’t…”

“Didn’t you?” I sigh and turn around. “Come on, Missy. We all know, okay? My parents got high and shot up, and killed themselves. In front of me. In front of my baby brother. When I was eight. I get it.” I run a hand through my hair, angry. At who, though? I’m not too sure. “Just because I didn’t have one myself…what? It doesn’t mean all families are so terrible? So… so sick? Murderous?” I shake my head.

“Come on, Bay,” Missy tries, standing.

I shake my head, taking a step back, and closing my eyes. “Please don’t. I know you mean well, Missy, but it’s not going to help. I… I’ve to go. Have to pack,” I murmur and leave, frustrated with Missy, frustrated with all Gaskarths- but mostly frustrated with myself.

Mostly cause… It still gets to me.

Ugh. Self-pity sucks.

I’ve reached the streets and hit my fist into the wall angrily. Numbness spreads before the pain and I sigh in relief. At least I’m still human, I guess. Or is that the problem?

I put on my large fedora and sunglasses to hide my eyes and hopefully prevent the stupid and ridiculous tears. I don’t need them, I don’t want them, so I shouldn’t have them. Cause it should bother me, you know?

I… it wasn’t my fault, after all. My parents being stupid. Right? I mean, they were doing that since before they were together or anything, way before I came around. Or did it get worse?

No, stop it!

It was just… fate.

That’s it. Fate. ‘Fortune’ for the fools who call it and think of nothing else. Gosh, I’ve always, always hated those words. I mean, I believe in God… I think. But whatever- maybe He affects things, maybe he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter.

I’ve been on my own for so long. My parents died and I took my baby brother and ran. We hated the foster homes with a passion- whenever we were caught, we always found ways to escape. Like a prison.

I shudder.

So many memories…

I take a deep breath, standing where I am. Then I let it out, and begin walking again- but a little more confidant.

Pity Party Over.

Moving on. I look around where I am, enjoying the street. I think back to earlier today- the vintage shop I work at had needed me desperately for a few hours, then I’d gone back to the shelterand started missing Georgie but had stopped at Missy’s.

Had I really thought she could help? I frown. She’s my best and only real friend. I’ve trusted her with so many secrets over these past few years… practically my sister, I suppose. She’s really the only one who knows everything- the truth.

But it doesn’t really mean she understands… Shrugging it off, I find a grocery store and walk in. I go to the back, all the cold drinks, and find a decent looking bottle of beer. I buy it and walk out, taking some sips.

The memories won’t ever go away, I’ve realized that.

But hey, the beer can help somehow.

Annnnnd my phone rings. “What?” I mutter, wondering why I never use my caller I.D.

“Hey, hon.” I bite my tongue not to snap back at him, cause I’m really not in the mood for any bull. “Anyways, I booked us some flights, Friday late afternoon, okay? We’ll arrive in Maryland about seven, eight. We’d eat a quick dinner, get some sleep, and we fly back Monday morning.”

My mouth gaps open. That just means more time with the family! Family not good! But I try to keep calm... “No red-eye flights?”

“I’m not a fan of those. But I take it as a yes! See you later.” Hangs up.

I hate him.