Carry On

I groaned as sunlight poured into my eyes. It took a while for me to open them. I could feel tears forming as my eyes adjusted to the my new surroundings. I felt pain everywhere, and I couldn't remember where I was. Certainly not home, because I have lavish carpets on my floor. I saw up, looking around to recognize I was in Sherrie Hill's house. Bodies were strewn everywhere, including Alicia and Amanda.

I moved to stand up, only to feel a sharp pain in my leg. I hissed, looking down to see my leggings ripped on the side, my entire lower body resting on broken glass from bottles. The alcohol spilt on the floor didn't help either. Dried blood caked on the majority of my right calf, and I had a few scratches on my left. I stood up, wobbling to the corner of the living room to find my shoes. I picked them up before finding my purse and grabbing my phone. I didn't even know what time it was.

3:24 PM

"Fucking shit," I cursed. Alicia and Amanda would have to find their own way home. I had seven missed calls and four texts from Zack.

Where are you?
I won't tell your Dad. I'll pick you up.
He's asking for you.
It's past midnight, Liz. At least let me know your safe.

I groaned, scrolling down to find that Matt had called ten times, because he's insane. He also had texted, but he had a few drinks I could tell. The texts were in half capitals and jumbled up. I could tell he was trying to yell at me through type, but it wasn't working out for him. He left me a voicemail, and I braced myself to hear it.

"God dammit, Liza. This isn't a fucking joke. Tell me where you're at right now because I am so fucking done. Call me back now!" Matt's voice had even dropped an octave he sounded so mad.

I had a plethora of missed calls and texts from Dad. Both from last night and through the entire morning. I didn't even bother to look through half of them, because I got the gist of it through Matt's voicemail. I swore they could be brothers.

I gained my balance and my vision straightened as I made my way to the background. In the distance I could hear someone throwing up in the backyard. There were footsteps upstairs, which meant someone got lucky and were just finding out about it, and snores were ringing throughout the house. I shut the bathroom door and started to fix my makeup so I didn't look like the living dead. I brushed my hair to the best of my abilities with only my fingers before tossing it up. I grabbed my things and headed out the door with my sunglasses on.

When I got to my car I opened the trunk. I always kept an extra outfit in there, just in case. I discarded my leggings, not caring if Sherrie's neighbors saw me in my underwear, and pulled on a pair of black skinnies. I tossed the leggings into the trashcan on the curb, having no use for them anymore, and shut the trunk. My leg was itching and burning from the cuts, and the friction from my jeans didn't help. Still, I got in the car and started my short drive home.

I thanked the heavens above that Matt's car wasn't in the driveway when I got home. Val must have dragged him home, and I would need to remind myself to thank her later. Zacky's car, however, was where my car would be parked. I pulled up to the curb before getting out, locking my car, and bracing myself for hell.

As soon as I opened the door I heard quick and swift footsteps up stairs, traveling across the house. I groaned, walking further into the hallway towards the living room. To my surprise, it was Zack running, and not Dad. His hands immediately went to the sides of my face, turning it in different directions, "Are you hurt? Are you okay? Did anything happen?" He asked frantically.

"Here, just take them," I held my keys up to him and he grasped them, "I know he's going to take them away anyways," I explained and he sighed as I made my way to the couch.

"Where the hell were you?" He asked.

"Party... Barbecues are boring," I stated as I fell into the cushions, "So where is he?" I asked and he took a deep breath.

"Well, he's at the damn police station," He answered and I shot up, the room spinning again. Hangovers were not my best friend.

"No he's not. His fucking car is outside," I argued.

"He went with Matt," He replied.

Well fuck me sideways.
"Oh, this is going to be fun. Tell Dad I choose UCLA. I'm going to be a chemistry major," I replied, sinking back into the couch and he sighed, pulling out his phone.

Maybe they'll teach me to make my own drugs. Then I can just overdose myself.

I watched as he found Dad's number and dialed. He had to wait a few moments before it connected, and finally Dad answered. I could hear his frantic voice, but couldn't make out specific words, "She's here," More murmuring, "No she's fine," Again, "She went to a party. All teenagers do it, Brian... She's a little hungover, but it's better than her driving drunk, right? Yeah, she shouldn't have gone in the first place but she's home and she's safe... Okay... Alright, see you soon... Yeah, bye."

"He doesn't sound very happy," I muttered.

"Sounds about right," Zack sat down on the couch, moving some hair out of my face before sighing, "I don't know what we're going to do with you, Kid."

Shoot me. Drown me. Suffocate me.
Either one will do.
"Send me to Mexico. I'm sure I'll blend in there," I said. Before he could reply with a witty comeback the front door was open.

I was lifted up off the couch by my shoulders, Dad's eyes filled with fury. He shook me a few times, my head feeling like it was about to explode, "What the fuck were you thinking!?" He yelled, "You could have gotten hurt! You could have gotten raped or killed!"

Jesus, enough with the shaking.
"Do you know how worried I was about you!?" He exclaimed, setting me down. "Where the fuck are your ke-" Before he could finish Zack tossed him my keys.

"She knows the drill," Zack stated and Dad glared at me.

"You're so fucking irresponsible, Liza. I'm worried to send you to a college far away because I don't think you're mature enough to take care of yourself," He scolded.

I'd rather just kill myself.

"Had the cops shown up to that party, your life would be over!"

It might as well be.

"They wouldn't let you into any college, and you'd most likely be kicked out of school. Everything I worked hard for to give you would be gone!"

"Listen, Dad," I started.

"I don't want to fucking hear it, Elizabeth!" He screamed, and for once I actually did cringe. Never, ever, did Dad use my full name. Perhaps once a year did he do so.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, "I'm sorry that I'm a teenager and that I fuck things up all the time," I said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, now you're the victim," He rolled his eyes.

No. I'm the monster.
"I get it, Dad! I'm not the daughter you always wanted! I'm sorry I can't be that! Why don't you understand that I'm too fucked up!" I screamed.

"You're so fucking dramatic. Just like your mother!" He yelled. Okay, that one actually kind of hurt. And I don't hurt easily.

"Yeah, maybe I'll take off just like she did," I retorted. I could see Matt and Zack take a step back at that comment, observing Dad. They knew all to well if we traveled down this path, we wouldn't like the outcome.

"Oh, of course. Because both you and her both just run away from your problems!"

"Really?! Because the common denominator here seems to be you, Dad! You're the only reason she's gone. At least she got out! Maybe I should save myself before you have a chance to ruin my life too!"

Leave this Earth, that is.

With that he hissed, taking a step back. It was like I had thrown holy water or something on him. He couldn't even look at me, his eyes glazed as he looked past me, staring holes into the wall. Matt stepped forward, mouth open ready to yell something insulting at me. Zack raised a hand to him, making him stop in his tracks, "C'mon, you both obviously need some space," He said softly, turning to Dad.

He nodded his head, "Get her out of here. I don't want to deal with this," Dad muttered. He didn't even look at me.

I know. I wouldn't want to look at me either.

Dad's eyes stayed fixated on the wall as Zacky took hold of my upper arm, taking me upstairs to my room. I already knew what to do.

When Mom left Dad couldn't handle it. Zacky did the same thing. He took me up to my room and had me pack a bag, while Matt calmed him down. I stayed with him and Gena for a while. An entire two weeks during the Summer so Dad could sort out his issues. It was during this time that my room was switched to the master bedroom, all of our family photos were taken down, and any remnants of Mom were removed.

I calmly placed clothes in a single suitcase. I was void of any emotion, and I think that worried Zack even more. Whenever he was worried he tapped his left foot repeatedly, which is what he was doing now as he waited in the doorway. When Dad was worried he paced all over the house, eyes fixated on nothing in particular and his entire body tense. And Matt was never worried, he was always just angry. Zack continued to watch me as I placed everything I would need for school for up to two weeks, just in case. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Dad wanted to keep me away even longer. I think I'd be glad if he just tossed me on Zack's lap, handing me over like a forgotten doll. I don't blame him, either. If that were the case then Gena and I had some shopping to do.

When I was done Zack took my bag for me, placing a hand on my back and ushering me down the stairs. Dad was still in the living room, arms crossed over his chest. He was pacing. Matt was perched in the corner of the room, waiting to jump at any moment Dad started to flip out. When we appeared his cold hazel eyes snapped to me, and he deepened his scowl. I didn't deserve to be stared at like this. It was Dad's fault. Then again, who am I kidding? It's always my fault. I glared back at Matt, a small growl emitting form my throat at the disappointing look he sent me. Zack's hand pushed me a little harder towards the hallway, silently telling me to leave it alone. Don't make the situation worse than it already is.

I just wanted to destroy something.