5 views
When He Leaves: Part Three
Chapter Seven: Early Morning Encounters
Yesterday I stayed in bed. I didn’t have the motivation to even get up and eat. I decided to color in my drawing of the hill and the pond, hoping to pass the time. By the time I had finished, it was close to 8:00 pm. I decided then to shower, since my parents were undoubtedly passed out drunk by now - I hadn’t heard anything come from downstairs in about an hour or two.
So I grabbed clean clothes and showered, hoping to somehow rinse away my inner demons. The blood washed away, circling the drain before fully disappearing. My thigh stung and so did my busted lip. The pain reminds me of what is real. Eventually, I left the bathroom and slipped underneath my covers. It was only 8:30 and I wasn’t tired, but I didn’t want to be awake anymore. I had my fill that day, just wanting to start over.
Surprisingly, I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. My dreams were once again very frightening, causing me to wake up every hour of the night. I woke up with a jump drenched in sweat every time, terrified. It was as if I was in a constant state of panic, and reality had started to bleed into my dreams. After a restless night, I eventually decided to just get up at around 4:30 am. I had to go back to school today (que internal screaming) so I got all around. I wasn’t one for wearing a bunch of makeup, but I figured that since I was up literally three hours early, I might as well put some on. It is the first day back, after all.
I grabbed my makeup from my desk drawer. An old bottle of foundation, an almost empty tube of mascara, and a small tube of clear lip gloss. That’s all I had, and I didn’t really want anything else. I didn’t want to turn into one of those girls that feel the need to put on a mask everyday. I blend the foundation into my skin, and carefully put the mascara on. I finish with the lip gloss, rubbing it onto my cracked lips. While I have the makeup out, I try my best to cover the bruises. It semi - covers them, the purple - red shining through just enough to make it look like a birthmark.
Satisfied, I put everything away and made my way downstairs. It was now 5:00 am, an hour before the time I would usually wake up. I was too tired to eat, and I had lost my appetite anyways. I grabbed a plastic bag from the trash closet and threw some random food items in it. Lunch. I then sat at the dining room table, staring off into the distance - occasionally glancing back at the clock on the microwave, watching time pass ever so slowly.
“Why are you around so early?” I jumped - I thought I was the only one up.
“Couldn’t sleep.” My father walked around to the other side of the table and sat down.
“How long have you been up? We couldn’t hear you.” Am I actually having a normal conversation with him?
“Since maybe 4:30, but I kept waking up in the middle of the night. I just decided to get up, since my body wouldn’t let me sleep.” I answered. He was sipping something, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
“Did you drink a lot of water or something?”
“Nightmares.” He sipped again.
“Oh.” Was all he said. Now I could smell what he was drinking. Whiskey.
“Are you really drinking this early in the morning? Why not drink coffee or something?” I was so fed up with this.
“Who are you to judge? You make bad decisions, too, so you have no room to talk.”
“What bad decisions do I make, father? What have I done that’s so terrible?” I started to raise my voice.
“You run off with your boyfriend and don’t say anything to us. That’s only one example.”
“If you know what you’re doing is bad, then why don’t you try to stop? You could get help, you know.” It was not a good idea to try to reason with him, but I couldn’t help it.
“Does it look like I care? You wanna send me to rehab? They don’t help you, Allison. They fill your head with lies and take away the fun.” He sipped again, this time he drank more than the last.
“And you’re filling your body with poison! You’re slowly killing yourself, dad, you should care!” I burst. He stood up, slamming the bottle of whiskey on the table.
“Good! Maybe then this ‘poison’ will...
Yesterday I stayed in bed. I didn’t have the motivation to even get up and eat. I decided to color in my drawing of the hill and the pond, hoping to pass the time. By the time I had finished, it was close to 8:00 pm. I decided then to shower, since my parents were undoubtedly passed out drunk by now - I hadn’t heard anything come from downstairs in about an hour or two.
So I grabbed clean clothes and showered, hoping to somehow rinse away my inner demons. The blood washed away, circling the drain before fully disappearing. My thigh stung and so did my busted lip. The pain reminds me of what is real. Eventually, I left the bathroom and slipped underneath my covers. It was only 8:30 and I wasn’t tired, but I didn’t want to be awake anymore. I had my fill that day, just wanting to start over.
Surprisingly, I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow. My dreams were once again very frightening, causing me to wake up every hour of the night. I woke up with a jump drenched in sweat every time, terrified. It was as if I was in a constant state of panic, and reality had started to bleed into my dreams. After a restless night, I eventually decided to just get up at around 4:30 am. I had to go back to school today (que internal screaming) so I got all around. I wasn’t one for wearing a bunch of makeup, but I figured that since I was up literally three hours early, I might as well put some on. It is the first day back, after all.
I grabbed my makeup from my desk drawer. An old bottle of foundation, an almost empty tube of mascara, and a small tube of clear lip gloss. That’s all I had, and I didn’t really want anything else. I didn’t want to turn into one of those girls that feel the need to put on a mask everyday. I blend the foundation into my skin, and carefully put the mascara on. I finish with the lip gloss, rubbing it onto my cracked lips. While I have the makeup out, I try my best to cover the bruises. It semi - covers them, the purple - red shining through just enough to make it look like a birthmark.
Satisfied, I put everything away and made my way downstairs. It was now 5:00 am, an hour before the time I would usually wake up. I was too tired to eat, and I had lost my appetite anyways. I grabbed a plastic bag from the trash closet and threw some random food items in it. Lunch. I then sat at the dining room table, staring off into the distance - occasionally glancing back at the clock on the microwave, watching time pass ever so slowly.
“Why are you around so early?” I jumped - I thought I was the only one up.
“Couldn’t sleep.” My father walked around to the other side of the table and sat down.
“How long have you been up? We couldn’t hear you.” Am I actually having a normal conversation with him?
“Since maybe 4:30, but I kept waking up in the middle of the night. I just decided to get up, since my body wouldn’t let me sleep.” I answered. He was sipping something, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
“Did you drink a lot of water or something?”
“Nightmares.” He sipped again.
“Oh.” Was all he said. Now I could smell what he was drinking. Whiskey.
“Are you really drinking this early in the morning? Why not drink coffee or something?” I was so fed up with this.
“Who are you to judge? You make bad decisions, too, so you have no room to talk.”
“What bad decisions do I make, father? What have I done that’s so terrible?” I started to raise my voice.
“You run off with your boyfriend and don’t say anything to us. That’s only one example.”
“If you know what you’re doing is bad, then why don’t you try to stop? You could get help, you know.” It was not a good idea to try to reason with him, but I couldn’t help it.
“Does it look like I care? You wanna send me to rehab? They don’t help you, Allison. They fill your head with lies and take away the fun.” He sipped again, this time he drank more than the last.
“And you’re filling your body with poison! You’re slowly killing yourself, dad, you should care!” I burst. He stood up, slamming the bottle of whiskey on the table.
“Good! Maybe then this ‘poison’ will...
