Until. We. Die. (BxB)

.1.

Running down the stairs and to the front door, I tried to get out of the house as soon as I could. I was going to be late again this week and I couldn't afford it. I needed to be at the school in five minutes. I was praying to god that I could quickly grab the keys to my dad's car; assuming he was a functional adult today. I dropped my bag at the door and ran around to the kitchen to grab a breakfast bar to eat but instead was brought up with the kitchen a wreck and my dad on the floor again.

I stopped everything. I didn't move.

This was the third time this week this had happened. It was a...bad week at work again and I was not going to be at school on time.

Slowly, I moved around the kitchen and took all the glass bottles away from my dad's body so he couldn't do anything with them.

I couldn't throw them in the trash without definitely waking him. But I couldn't just leave him here. He passed out enough for me to be able to pick his body up off the ground, throwing one of his arms over my shoulder and dragging him across the hall to his bedroom.

His feet drug against the floor as I attempted to walk his sleeping being to his room. Opening the door was difficult, getting him onto his bed was worse. When I had gotten him onto his bed, he was still asleep to my knowledge.

I checked his pockets for his keys and wallet so he wouldn't lose them again. When my hands came out of the jean pockets his eyes snapped open and his hand was on my neck, squeezing tightly.

My hands instinctively went to his, to remove them but he was fully awake now and in a defensive mode. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"J-just getting....you to he-here-" When I was able to get words out he loosened his grip on my neck, his hands smelling like alcohol and medal as he held my neck and drug me closer to his drunken body.

"What was that?"

"I-I'm just trying to help d-dad-"

"Get out of here." Throwing me backwards, I caught and balanced myself on a chair by his bed before I could fall to the floor.

"Y-You should take some Meds today dad-"

"I SAID GET OUT OF HERE!" He threw himself off the bed, his feet thumping against the floor in front of me as he yelled. I couldn't move, my head locked on the floor as he huffed over me drunkenly.

When he took another step closer to me I flew my body out of there realizing he wouldn't go back to bed. Running to the front door, I barely caught my bag in my hand as I left the house and sprinted down the street to get to school.

My leg stung like a bitch as I ran, I shouldn't be running on it at all. But I had to get out of here, out of the vicinity of my home, out of the neighborhood and street.

My heart was already running a thousand miles an hour, the extra adrenaline of being late didn't help my case as I jogged to school after a few blocks of running. Breathing shakily, I gripped the straps on my backpack like a kindergartener would on their first day of school as I slowed down even more.

I was already late to school, there wasn't much point in rushing now.

When I did get to the school, I grabbed my I.D before heading inside where I had to sign papers and check in. The receptionist at the front desk smiled as I came through the front doors of the school,"Hi Tristan. What's the reason this time?"

"Physical therapy again. I thought my dad called in. I'm sorry about that." I technically wasn't lying, I did have physical therapy for my leg this morning at seven in the morning. Forty five minutes and I was on my way home again to get ready for school.