Eat My Heart Out

“Gerard! Dinner!” mom calls.

I snarl at the ceiling, but put my pencil down and grab my glass. I quickly fill it up with a bit of cherry vodka and a lot of Dr. Pepper before I trudge up the stairs clumsily.

The thought of Frank being at the table suddenly crosses my mind, and I close my eyes and take a slurp of my coke as I walk through the kitchen.

I throw myself into my seat and set my glass down beside my plate.

“You still feeling sick, Gerard?” mom asks as she starts shoveling lasagna onto her plate.

I just nod.

I stare down at my empty plate as everyone takes a piece of lasagna. A flash of anger runs through me when out of the corner of my eye I see Frank shovel some lasagna onto his plate. I can’t tell how much he takes. I bet it’s not much.

I quickly take the spatula when he lets go of it. I take a big piece, just to tick him off.

I take a drink of my ‘soda’ before I quickly gorge myself. I sloppily shove the large bites of lasagna into my mouth and chew with my mouth open.

“Gerard. Chew with your mouth shut,” dad tells me. I do, and suddenly don’t feel hungry anymore. I swallow the food down with the last bit of my ‘soda’.

“Can I be excused?” I ask, my voice slurred – not from alcohol, but from venom.

“Are you feeling okay?” mom asks caring.

“No,” I answer quickly – honestly.

“Alright. Go get some sleep, sweetie. Don’t stay up drawing,” mom says. I’m already out of my chair, walking towards the stairs – my glass clutched in my hands.