May Angels Lead You In

"How was your day in school?" Daniel's thick British accent asked as I ran up the stairs and slammed it shut.

I didn't mean to do that to him. But after today's events, I just didn't feel like talking. I lay on my bed cuddling onto my huge dog plushie and was staring into space when someone knocked on the door.

"Is it okay for me to come in?" Daniel peeked inside and I smiled a little, sitting up straight.

He walked into the room and sat on the bed next to me. There was an awkward pause between us. He cleared his throat to clear the air of silence.

"Sorry about just now," I apologized and he waved me off.

"You were having a bad day - there's nothing to apologize for that," he smiled before sighing. "Bad day in school, I assume?"

"You have no idea," I mumbled.

"Settling down takes time, sweety," Daniel said. "It doesn't happen overnight."

He stared at the top I was wearing and I froze for a second. I thought for sure he had figured out what happened in school.

I had to change into another top because the one that had got slushied this morning was beyond repair. Hopefully, Daniel would not have a clue as to what happened in school.

"That's an awfully cute top," Daniel said, scratching his head. "How come I've never seen you wearing them before?"

Something dropped hard onto the wooden floorboards next door and both of us snapped our heads towards the direction.

"Don't tell me she's drinking again," I muttered under my breath as I stood up and headed towards the room.

"I'll go get us a towel," Daniel added running downstairs.

I reached out for the silver plated doorknob. Slowly, I stepped inside the room as the floorboards creaked beneath me.

The room is dark and I had to move around to find the switch to the lights. But as soon as I switched the light on, I saw my mother's pathetic form on the floor. She was struggling to stand up with a bottle of Johnny Walker's in her hand.

"Oh mom," I groaned softly and took the drink away from her.

"Give it back," she was soft at first but when I refused to hand her the bottle, she got more agressive - shoving me backwards with the strength she could muster. "I said give it back!"

"No!" I hid the bottle behind me and stared her down.

The next thing I knew, she slapped me hard across the face. Stumbling backwards, she seized the opportunity to snatch the bottle away from me - in which she has succeeded.

I ignored the stinging sensation on my left cheek and continued to pry it away from her. "The doctor said no more."

"You're the reason I became like this," Mom slurred and quickly took a quick sip off the bottle. "You're the reason Jackson left me."

If you were wondering who Jackson is, well, he would be my real dad. He left us five years ago during Christmas Eve and that had torn my mom apart. Only two years ago, mom had met Daniel - who happened to be a psychiatrist.

I know. It's weird to have an alcoholic being married to a psychiatrist. Then again, who am I to judge love?

I know Daniel is a good man, judging by the way he tries all ways to help my mom kick her addiction.

My heart tore at the sight of my mother.

"Okay, I'm at fault," I whispered soothingly and tried to reach for the bottle. "I'm at fault Mama. I'm sorry."

Slowly, she let go of the bottle and started mumbling to herself. I quickly wiped a tear that threatened to roll down my cheek and stood up.

I walked past Daniel and handed him the bottle, giving a fake smile before heading towards my room and shut the door close.

I lay on my bed and for the second time that day, I cried.

+

The next day, I made sure I was extra early for the school bus - I didn't want to be the center of attention like I had been yesterday. I also made sure I had an extra piece of clothing in case I get slushied again.

Within minutes, the bus came and I got on board.

"Come on new girl," the jock - Gabriel is his name - called out. "You know you want me."

I ignored him and tried looking for the Sullivan guy yesterday.

There he was sitting at the same spot with no one by his side. He wore a white tee with black skinnies and black Vans sneakers. He is also wearing black shades to cover his eyes. When I stopped next to him, he turned and looked up at me.

I tried to not frown when I saw that he did not stand up for me to sit on the inside like he did yesterday. Instead, he looked away, not moving at all.

"Ooh! Pwned!" the jocks behind mocked and started laughing.

I tried to push away the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and sat on the empty seat right behind him.

Why was he being nice one moment and a jerk the next?