I Understand Now

I came home and my dad stormed past me in the hallway. I didn't have to ask. Judging from the drunken screaming, it was my mom again.

"Dad, should I do something?" I asked.

"No, just stay out of the way." Then he disappeared into the guest room.

I dropped my backpack into my room and mentally prepared myself. There was a loud clattering from outside my room. I felt like I should take something to shield myself with before venturing out to the pits of Hell, but that would probably piss my mom off even more.

I wandered out into the open and headed toward the guest room. My mom had three bottles of beer on the floor. It probably wasn't all she'd drank, since she had two empty cases that were previously not there before strewn at her sides. My dad was speaking calmly to her and trying to convince her to put down our family photo album.

"You." Her wild, bloodshot eyes pierced me. "You smell like them."

"Mason, please leave." Dad sighed. "It's all right. She just drank a little too much."

"I figured," I said. "I'm here to offer some help."

Mom chucked the photo album at me. I caught it before it could smack me in the face. "My son," she rasped, "Don't go back. Don't go back."

"Mom, it's okay, let's just calm down," I said. My dad crept nearer, and since she didn't make any acknowledgement that he was there, he took her hand. Mom continued to bore her eyes into me.

"They'll make you like me," she said.

I tucked the family photo album under my arm and left the room.