It's Hard to Say 'I Miss You.'

I went to knock on the oh so familiar door, but it was already open enough so I could push it open the rest of the way. So I left myself in, tripping on something. I re gained my balance before I fell straight on my face.
“What the hell?” I questioned myself, looking down. The floor was covered in beer cans, bottles, and cigarette butts. It made me want to get sick. But it wasn’t just in the one area, it was like a trail of cans, leading to the living room.

“Be- Oh my gosh.” I gasped at the sight. I found Bert laying on the couch, a half empty vodka bottle in his hand. I walked over, putting my hand on the bottle, ready to take it. But his grip tightened. I looked up, seeing his blood shot eyes starring down at me.

“What are you doing?”
“The real question is, what are you doing? And I’m helping you.” I said, monotone, taking the bottle away from him.
“Why?” He asked, ignoring me and I wish I knew.
“Because you need it.” That sounded like a good enough reason for me.
“Give that back.” He said, reaching for the bottle. I pulled me arm back, making reaching the bottle impossible.
“Oh no.” I knew what that meant, and I quickly grabbed the small trash can beside the couch, probably ready for this moment, and threw it at him.

I held Bert’s hair back as he emptied the contents from the bottles and cans that he emptied last night into it. When he was done he sat back up,
“Ugh! I feel horrible.”
“You look horrible.” I said, standing back up.
“Thanks.”
“Hey. I didn’t come her to be nice.” That was true.
“Why did you come here?” He questioned. I knew that he was just as surprised at my presence here as I was.

“I came here to talk, but you are in no position to do anything right now. Let alone talk to someone. Come on.” I tried to pull him up off of the couch.
“Where are we going?”
“You need to shower.”
“Oh.” Bert let me help him up, and I pretty much dragged him upstairs into the bathroom. When we got in, I sat him on the toilet seat. He pretty much down on it. Still not really awake, and very hung over, he put his arms up.

“What? Oh.” I pulled his shirt off,
“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” Which wasn’t much of a demand, considering he could barley get undressed. I got Bert a towel, and walked back into the bathroom, watching him stare straight ahead. For anyone that didn’t know him would have mistaken him for being in a deep thought, but for people that did know him, would know that he was just really tired, or hung over. And right now he happened to be both.

“Okay. I’ll help you in the shower, but you’re on your own for the rest.” I said, pulling him back up. I got Bert safely into the shower, and went to walk out,
“Can’t you help with the rest?” He questioned. I glared at him, and he understood I wasn’t in any mood,
“Sorry.”
“Just shower. Get dressed, and come back down stairs.” I stated, slamming the door behind me.
“Fine!” He yelled after me. He always had to have the last word in everything.

I quickly made my way back downstairs. The place looked horrible, and smelled worse. I knew it was bad for me, just being there. But there was no way I was leaving the house like this, it couldn't be good for anyone to live like that. And right now I was really hoping that the only reason I was there was to talk…