Get Tangled Up In Me

by the bottle

“Mom?” I called walking into the dark musty house. I threw my backpack on the floor and walked into the living room.

My mother was laying on the couch, probably passed out, with the TV on some soap opera muted. On the coffee table there were about five different alcohol bottles, most empty, the most filled one was half empty. I quickly grabbed them all and took them to the kitchen.

“School sucked today, mom, but at lunch I finally got Frank to admit he liked Kay. He’s going to ask her out Friday night at Gerard and Mikey’s.” I called while washing out the bottles. She answered with a moan. I grabbed a snack and walked back in the living room munching.

“In art we have to do a project on something or someone who affected our lives, and Mikey said we should do dad! I’m drawing him.” She moaned a bit more and rolled over. I sighed and grabbed a blanket, draped it over her, and kissed her forehead. Her whole body reeked of booze.

“Well I’m going to go do my homework, Mom. See you later.” I muttered grabbing my backpack and heading up stairs.

I sat at my desk, but didn’t pull out my homework. I logged into messenger and messed around a bit. Nobody was online. I was bouncing my leg up and down in impatientness. I glanced over at my drawer for the hundredth time. I bit my lip and quickly opened it, pulling out the razor. I just sat there, staring.
I was in my room for about ten minutes, just staring at the razor when I heard the phone ring downstairs. I sighed and ran down to answer it, not even looking at the caller I.D.

“Hello?” I answered breathlessly.

“Hey Rave! How’s my girl?” The voice answered. I grinned.
“I’m fine dad. How are you?” I asked back hoping he wouldn’t ask for mom. I’d have to come up with another excuse for her.

“I’m doing excellent now that I’m talking to my baby girl! How’s mom?” He asked. I sat down at the table.

“Oh she’s doing fine!” I answered brightly. “She’s actually out with Ms. Donna right now. I’m proud of her. Hasn’t touched a drink in ages.” My mother is an alcoholic. She gets bad whenever dad leaves. We’ve kept it quiet, and she’s always fine when dad gets home, but it’s when he’s gone that the role of mother taking care of daughter gets reversed.

“That’s good.” He sighed in relief. “If she did you’d tell me right?” I felt tears come into my eyes.

“Of course.” I answered lightly. I silently cried. I couldn’t tell him, it would break his heart.

“So how’s school? Must be pretty weird with Gerard as a teacher, huh?” He teased. I laughed bitterly.

“Weird isn’t the word for it dad. Creepy is more like it!” I answered. “Listen dad, I have to go, I’m sorry! I’m meeting Rardy and Mikes for dinner and I don’t want be late.”

“Ok, well tell them I said hi, and when I come back for my two weeks we are going to have another one of our famous Way/Iero/Farr/Miller/Daniels/Jenkins/Wentz picnics. I love you.” He laughed.

“I love you too, Daddy. Be careful, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I sniffled. “Bye.”

“Bye, baby.” He hung up. I dropped the fine and started to cry fully. I ran upstairs and grabbed the razor, cutting another thin line on my skin. I felt the pain envelope me, and I instantly felt better. What was wrong with me?

I slipped into my pj bottoms and went under my covers. I would stop. I can make this better. I will stop cutting. I prayed to god that he would help me. He would help me. I would stop.

From the razor to the rosary.