Just Like You...

"You can't just fucking kick me out of the damn house, Mom!" I shouted at the bitch. She was never really much of a mother to me, just a whore on drugs who made sure I was stuck in this shit hole until I was eighteen.

"You fucking better believe I can! You and you're damn sister, you two fucking ruined my life! Out of my house!" She shouted.

Alyssa was packing her things as fast as she could next to me. I threw my shit in a bag as well, I didn't have much, nor did she. We had money, we both worked, but we used most of it for food. Our mom…she was a drug addict…not the best mother in the world. We didn't know our father. We just knew, we just knew it was a complicated situation and that we fucking hated child care services for not taking us away.

Damn America.

"Alleycat, grab my bass would you?"

"Shea, we can't be bringing all your shit, we don't have time!" She growled.

"I'm not going anywhere without 'my shit' now pass it. I already have my other stuff packed." She handed it over.

"Fine, you're carrying it."

"Out of my house you whores!" Our mother screeched as a chair hit the wall behind me, thank God we'd ducked.

"Mom, MOM! You're high! Just please take a minute!" It was a wonder she'd lasted sixteen fucking years "raising" us. If that's what you want to call this…

"I will not! Take this! You'd better hope to God that man takes you in or you're living on the streets for the rest of your lives!"

I sighed. I knew this was going to happen one day. I took the sheet of paper and we left the house, listening something hit the door on our way out.

"So…what do we do now?" Alyssa looked at me nervously.

"Not die."

"Good idea." She agreed, looking around.

"We could call the number she gave us…" I pointed out as we continued down the street with our stuff over our backs.

"Or we could call Jared and he could pick us up." My twin pointed out. I bit my lip, I was kind of curious who's number we'd been given.

"But…what if this is dad…" I whispered.

"Shea, you damn well should've given up hope ever meeting our father years ago. If he wanted us, he'd have saved us from that shit hole years ago." Alyssa muttered. "No one wants us, we're useless pieces of shit."

I wasn't going to cry…but secretly, my entire life, I'd hoped at a chance of meeting my father.
"He left us, he doesn't want us."

"Alyssa, look at our mother. If he left, I can't blame him." I pointed out, "She's a whore drug addict-thing."

The addition of "thing" made Alyssa hiccup a laugh from behind her tears.

"See, we can't blame him for shit." I patted her back.

"We can blame him for this." She nodded to my arms while holding up her own, the scars and fresh cuts clearly visible. "We can blame him for--"

"I quit." I told her…not being entirely truthful, "Don't bring it up again."

She sighed.

"I'm not retarded, Shea." She frowned. "I saw you throw the case into your bag."

"That's Advil!" I crossed my arms, stopping walking.

"Sure." She shrugged. "I believe it. Not because it's true, but because I want to. I want you to be better."

I sighed.

"I want us to be better." I sighed. " I want our life to be better. I want to be better."

"What happened to the silly little girl with the caffeine addiction that got migraines whenever she tried to cut back?" Alyssa gave me a half smile.

"She got into deep shit." I gave her a half smile back.

We walked in silence for a bit.

"We should call the number…" Alyssa rubbed her face. "Before we get raped."

I took out my cellphone. Thank God mom had remembered to pay the bills. Oh…wait…no, that was me who paid it.

I dialed the number slowly, hitting send and placing it, with a trembling hand, to my ear. I listened as it rang a few times before someone picked it up.

"Y'ello." I heard someone answer. It was a male, he sounded young, too young ot be a father. I held a sigh of disappointment.

"H-hi…I'm Shea…" I trailed off shyly.

"I don't know any Shea's." The man on the line told me, "What's up?"

That is a really weird thing to ask someone you don't know. I rolled my eyes.

"Um…my mother…she gave me this phone number…she kinda kicked me and my twin sister out of the house…she said we'd better hope the guy who this number belongs to would take us in. We thought maybe it was our dad, we never met him…" I paused. "You're obviously too young to be my father. My mother was high, she probably put down the wrong number. It's no big deal." I was about to hang up, Alyssa looked a little disappointed, but still held an "I told you so" face.

"No, don't go!" The guy on the other line sounded desperate, how he knew I was about to hang up, I don't know. "I live here in the house with my dad, he could easily be your father. Where are you? We'll pick you up!"

"Bullhead City," I told him.

"Okay, I'm two hours away…but I know someone who's near there visiting some friends. Can you meet him outside of the Jack in the Box?"

I bit my lip, fiddling with one of my snakebites. Alyssa and I could walk a little further…no big deal.
"Yeah, I think, in like ten minutes we could get there." I nodded.

"Sweet, okay, his name is Jacky. You can't possibly miss him. He's got a British accent." He laughed.
"Okay…last name?"

"Vincent." The man on the phone answered. Dear Lord, for all I know I could be talking to a rapist!

"Jacky…Vincent…wait…" I couldn't figure out why I knew that name. "Got it."

"Great, he's leaving tonight anyhow, just get there. I'll shoot him a text. See you in a bit."

JACKY POV

"Dude, hold on, slow the fuck down." I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes after pulling over on the side of NV-163 West.

"Jacky…they don't have a dad. They're two girls. Their mother's a drug addict, I--"

"You never said anything about ever having sisters, Ronnie. Don't start thinking that now." I told him.
"But what if I do?!"

"You don't even remember your mother! These girls are FIFTEEN. For them to be that old, you'd have had to have been twelve when she left, but you weren't."

"What if they're half sisters?!" Ronnie exclaimed.

"What if they're not?!" I shot back. "Dude, don't make me turn around and find them." But I knew he would.

"Please, Jacky, please." He begged. "I need to know them!"

I sighed and slammed my fist on the steering wheel.

"Fine." Ronnie sighed with relief on the other end of the phone. "But you'd better fucking pay for the gas I'm wasting going back for them."

"Deal. Thanks, bro." And he hung up.

Damn it, the shit I do for this man.