Shadows

It’s early.
It’s late.
It’s four in the morning.

I’m awake.
I’m awake because I’m paranoid.

The house is empty.
The house is silent.
The house is eerie.

Dave and Viv took the kids to his grandmother’s house in Georgia.
Dave and Viv didn’t even ask if I wanted to go.

I would have.
I think.

Maybe I wasn’t invited.
Maybe his grandmother hates me.

I met her once.
I met her once and she called me Kitty all weekend.

I’m waiting for Alex.
I’m waiting for Alex to come over like he promised he would.

I’ve been waiting since eleven.

I bet he’s not coming.
I bet he’s still mad.
I bet he’s drunk.
I bet he’s passed out.

My head is full of drowsy thoughts.
They’re heavy and my head fall on the pillow.
My eyelids are covered with sleepy sights.
They’re heavy and my eyes close.

I’m asleep.

&&

I open my eyes.
I open my eyes, noticing the gray outside my window.

I half expect to see Alex asleep next to me.
I half expect to see Alex asleep on the floor.
He’s not.

I hate rain.
I hate being stuck inside.
I hate being stuck inside now that I’ve met the outside.

It’s noon.
No one is home still.

I just keep thinking that someone is in the house.
I just keep thinking that someone might break in.
I just keep thinking that I’m going to die alone here.

I have the television on.
I have the television on because I’m a sound-aholic.
I can count on the laugh tracks to make me feel less lonely.

Now it’s three o’clock.
I can now pick out one certain laugh every time Lucy gets in trouble.
I can now pick out one certain laugh every time Ricky wants her to explain.

“Sorry that…I’m late.” Alex’s voice suddenly snapped me out of my trance. He paused in the middle and took a sharp in take of air. “I bro…broke four ri…ribs and I’m…in a lot of…pain.” He drops the house key on the table.

Alex looks exhausted.
Alex looks lifeless.

I write down the word ‘How?’ on a piece of paper and show him.

“How do you think?” he responds sitting down slowly on the smaller couch.

His mom’s boyfriend.
That’s what I think.

“Pushed me down the…stairs.” He smiles lazily at me. “Sorry that I…keep stopping to…breathe.”

I smile sympathetically, telling him not to apologize.

It’s quiet now.
It’s quiet now, all I hear is ‘I Love Lucy’ and his jagged breathing.

Alex fishes an orange pill bottle out of his pocket.
Alex shakes two white pills into the palm of his hand.
Alex washes the pills down with water I didn’t notice him having before.

It takes a while for the pills to kick in.
It takes a while for the pills to kick in, leaving him out his mind.

Out of his mind.
Out of his mind but breathing easier.

Alex pats the couch, looking at me with glassy eyes.
I shift from my couch to his couch.

Alex wraps one arm around my waist while he sits slumped on one side of the couch.
I sit perfectly posed, a porcelain doll on display.

His words are slurred.
His movements are slow.
His mind has no filter.

Alex tells me things.
Alex tells me things, things he’d never tell me.

“I hate parties. I hate my friends. I hate alcohol.” He rambles playing with is hair absently. “I hate my mom. I hate my dad. I hate Chris.”

I am Carson McCoy.
I am learning about him.