Let Them Speak

I went home. As simple as that.

I was a little freaked out by Haven’s appearance, she looked like a mess and I knew where that strong sadness had come from. I had felt her more so than Addison, but that was understandable. Girls usually felt more emotion then males.

Once I was home, I went straight for my room and flopped into my bed face-first, the soft blankets softening my fall so I don’t hurt anything.

“Darryn!” My father yells from downstairs and I trudge downstairs, already missing my bed. I don’t have to look for what he’s feeling, his irritation can be felt from upstairs.

“Hey dad,” I said and gave a small smile. His frown deepened.

“Why did I get a call from your Drama teacher today, saying that I was invited to a performance you were taking place in?” He barks and I wince.

“Because it’s required that we perform and-” he cuts me off with a swift punch to the wall.

“We’ve been over this Darryn! You devote your schooling to the real stuff, the stuff that’ll get you money in this world, not drama.” He spits the word as if it’s dirt caught between his teeth.

“Dad-”

“Can you drop the class?” He says in low voice. His anger is raising but I need to stand my guard.

“Mom would want this for me!” I yell and feel a peak in my own anger, it’s amazing that I’m even feeling emotion, or perhaps it’s his overriding mine.

He raises his hand and for a moment, a terrifying moment, I think he’s going to hit me. But instead he aims his anger at the wall again, only this time he creates a hole. I bite my lip to keep from saying anything else.

“Can you drop the class?” He says in that low voice again but this time I think he feels defeated.

“No.” I reply curtly, then turn on my heel and go back to my room.

The night is restless and I by the time I get the strength to turn onto my back, it’s 3 in the morning. I heaved a sigh and got out of bed. I snuck downstairs and was surprised to find my father not in the living room, he had actually gone to bed tonight.

I rummaged through the kitchen until I found a banquet of chips, dip, pretzels, soda and a bottle of whiskey. All of which I brought back to my room with me. I went down stairs and grabbed the phone also. When I returned to my room, I dialed the school’s number.

“You have reached the absent record operating system, please state your name, grade and reason.” A robotic-woman’s voice drones into my ear. I smirked.

“Hi, I’m Darryn Phillips, I’m in grade 11 and I have recently gotten sick, I’ll be back on the day after tomorrow,” I say just as boringly and when I hang up, made sure to take the battery out so I wouldn‘t make any stupid phone calls while drinking tonight.

I start nibbling on my now unappetizing feast of snacks. Instead of eating, I crack open the bottle of whiskey and gag at the smell. I shrug and take a quick, long swing of the horrible liquor. I almost gag again, then I take another swing and soon I’ve lost count and I’m setting the bottle down with a shaky hand, my mind and body are numb and I can’t feel a thing. Not an emotion in the entire city could get to me. I feel kind of invincible, now that I’m numb everywhere.

I stumble downstairs and put all my snacks away noisily. I don’t even know I’m making that much noise until the lights flip on and my father is standing in the doorway, watching me. I grin stupidly back.

“Hey dad,” I slur and lean on the counter for leverage.

“Are you drunk?” He asks but by the way he wrinkles his nose, he can smell it on me.

“Yeah, and it’s great.” I say and nearly lose my balance.

He sighs and looks like he’s disappointed, but I know he wont say anything, considering his past with alcohol.

“Go to bed son, I’ll help you out tomorrow when you wake up,” he leads me up to my room and then takes away the bottle sitting by my bed. I see that almost half of it is gone.

“‘Night daddy~!” I squeal like a kid then dive into my bed, feeling light and great still.

And I’m asleep long enough, because when I wake up, the sun is in the middle of the sky and I can smell dad making eggs downstairs. And I feel terrible. Headache, dry mouth, and an just aching body. But it was worth it to get away from it all for even one night.

I stumble back downstairs and slump at the table. In less then two minutes, there’s a glass of water and a couple pills in front of me. I take all of it in and feel a little better instantly. And once that’s gone, there’s a steaming plate of breakfast in front of me, pancakes, eggs and toast. I eat it slowly, I’m beginning to feel a little sick.

“So, whats going on,” my dad says from the opposite side of the table, he’s sat down with a hot cup of coffee.

“Nothing,” I mumble and he sighs, but I still can’t feel what he’s feeling, which is amazing.

“Come on Dan, talk to me,” he tries again and I wonder if I should just blame it on the fact that next week will be the two-year anniversary of not only my mother, but my little sister, Karen. I vote a yes.

“Dad, next week is the big day, I’m allowed to get a little down,” I say and add a little quiver to my words. He looks petrified.

“But drinking yourself into a stupor?” He begins and I force a little chuckle out.

“It’s painful dad,” I say and he shuts down. He knows the pain, we both do.