Ghosts

I shoved another Oreo in my mouth and decided to change the channel, grunting at every one until I reached Animal Planet. “Meh,” I sighed, popping another one into my mouth.

“Henry, don’t you dare!” my mom shouted from upstairs, followed by breaking glass.

I rolled my eyes and popped another Oreo in, hoping the sugar intake would just kill me already. I mean, I wasn’t the healthiest person in the world- couldn’t I just die already? Something quick, something that showed me God actually cared; though, you know, he probably doesn’t. It’s Sunday right now and I’m at my best I’ll get all day- Elmer Fudd pajama pants and a hoodie my older brother sent me from Virginia Tech last summer. I wish he had taken me with him.

My house phone rang insistently and I sighed, waiting. It just continued.

Sighing one more time, I slammed my Oreos down, careful not to completely destroy all of them, and stomped over to the house phone hanging on the wall.

“Hello?” I mumbled, kicking the molding on the wall.

“Hey,” a deep voice replied – his voice; a voice I didn’t think I’d actually hear.

I gulped, standing straight up as if he were looking at me, critiquing my horrid posture. I didn’t know what to think. My eyes were stretched wide and I just wanted to die still. Maybe even a little more at this moment than I did before.

“So,” he started up again, trying to avoid my silence, “You want to meet up at the library around two to start working on that AP Bio project?” He seemed calm about it, but I nearly had a heart attack. I froze completely, then watched as my father stomped passed me with suitcases packed and my mother harping in his ear.

“I told you, Juliet! I told you if you throw one more object in this house, I’m leaving, and you know what you did?- You threw an object! It’s the last straw,” he yelled, putting a suitcase down to open the door with his free hand.

“Henry, fuck, what do you think you’re doing? You can’t ever do anything right! You have children, Henry!” she shouted as I ran over, attempting to pry her off of him.

“Yes, and they’ve somehow turned out perfectly fine. You, on the other hand,” he criticized, looking her up and down in disgust, “I don’t know what the hell happened to you.” He turned and walked through the door. “Fucking nutcase,” he commented, slamming the door in my mother’s face.

She looked at me, the rugged lines in her face amplifying a thousand times.

“I need help,” she whispered, shrugging out from under my hands and floating quietly up the stairs.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. What the fuck just happened? Did that really just happen? “Oh, my god,” I sighed, looking from the staircase to the door, then back to the staircase. My father really just left us.

Then I heard a voice and I looked at the phone hanging from the wall. “Hello…?” It was distant, but still there. He was still on the fucking phone, and he had heard everything.

I gulped, picked up the phone, and murmured, “I’ll see you at two,” then hung up and ran upstairs for a shower and some freshening up. This house only held my demons.

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After I helped him into his bed, gave him some Tylenol, and made sure he had something to puke in during the night, I left. I didn’t really know what to think of the situation; being the only person to walk into that bathroom and find him unconscious. I mean, it really had to be some odd sort of fate God had planned for me.

I was only going to tell Mya, that’s for sure.

So I pulled into my driveway, walked up the driveway and into the house, creeping by my sleeping father, careful not to wake up, and hastily made my way up the stairs. My mom’s bedroom light was on and, just as I had known, she was passed out with her glasses askew, her book open on her chest, and a glass off bourbon and ice melting on the nightstand next to her. I repeated my acts of the night, quietly fetching some bread from the kitchen and leaving it on the empty stand, where the bourbon had once rested.

I sighed, giving my mom one more look-over, and shuffled down the hallway. I didn’t bother to take my make-up off or even call Mya; I just collapsed under my amazingly soft comforter and curled into a fetal position. Sleep came quick and it only relayed the night’s previous events to me. Not even sleep could save me this time.