A series of not so chill events

Richie?

I opened the door to my small house, and I looked around. It hadn't changed much, still as dirty and broken down as ever. I walked into our "living room", more of a cross between the kitchen and just inserting a worn out maroon couch and a small flatscreen TV.

Sure enough, there was my father passed out in front of the TV showcasing a baseball match. Thank god.

I never really practiced religion, but at times like these, I was really grateful. It seemed like someone up there somewhere was on my side today.

I carefully made my way upstairs to where my room was. I opened the door, turned on the lights, and inspected my room. I don't think anything was touched. I hoped so, anyway.

I immediately plopped down onto my bed. I was too tired to brush my teeth, or clean, or change. I didn't even check if I got any messages on my phone.

I turned around so that I was now laying down on my back. I wanted to fall asleep right then and there, but I knew I still had some things to do. I went to my desk and pulled out a small post-it. I wrote my dad a note of my return, and swiftly went downstairs to tape it on his forehead. I liked messing with him when I could.

I went back upstairs to brush my teeth. Luckily, I had a secret stash of toothpaste I kept in a lower drawer, so when it ran out quicker than it should've, I didn't have to go to the store or hear my dad complaining.

I thought about changing, but I wanted to stay in Michael's PJs. Something about them made everything about my situation more comforting.

I went back to my room and turned off my light. I pulled up the covers and fell asleep, not dreaming about anything in particular.

• • •
I woke up at around 6am, and showered. I flinched as the cold water hit my bare body. I wasn't prepared, I had turned the knob so that hot water was supposed to be coming out. Cold showers were okay too, but it was still a bit unnerving. Still, I remembered all the burn scars I had, and I determined that colder water was better than boiling.

Once I finished, I changed into my camouflage cargo pants, and I slipped a plaid button down shirt over my black t-shirt. I left it unbuttoned, of course, and kept my bandana that I'd worn since I got my SQUIP. The real Richard Goranski was back, but It's not like I'd forgotten everything the SQUIP "worked so hard to teach me." At least now, I had a sense of fashion.

I got my backpack ready, and just as I was going to grab my phone, I realized that I couldn't find it.
Shit. I hope I didn't leave it at the mall, or Michael's house. I just had to believe that it was probably at home somewhere and I'd check around my house after school. I was going to be late for school if I stayed home any longer. I just hoped my dad didn't find my phone before I did.

I went downstairs and saw my dad still passed out on the couch. Brutal. I rolled my eyes and checked the fridge for anything good. I pulled out a few expired foods and threw them away. Ick.

I guess I'd have to buy something on the way. I wrote another post-it note to my dad, and left.

I didn't have a car, so that meant back to public transportation since I didn't have a phone to call Jake, or anyone for that matter.

I exhaled and reassured myself that this was going to be a good day. On the outside, I practiced smiling and my confident face, but subconsciously I was honestly terrified of going back to school. Still, it was better than home, or even the hospital. I was bound to lose most of my popularity, for sure, but I still had some friends, right? I contemplated all this until I finally arrived onto the steps of the school.