PROTECT

Backstory pt- 2

Mom doesn't say anything about the fire or the fact that I was drunk. She barely even speaks to me. She can't even look me in the eyes. Every conversation we'd had since we left the hospital has been shallow. I apologize every chance I get and she says she accepts it but her face says she's done with me.

Miko, Noni and Keisha are in the hospital. I haven't heard anything more about it. Their families hate me. They blame me for it as of I started it.

Still two weeks later, no one knows who started it. The fire department ruled it "accidental" but remembering the fire, the small but meaningful noise, the blast, the red engulfing the house containing my only friends leads me to think something else. It couldn't have been an accident.

I've been sober for 1 1/2 days. I meant what I said that day in the hospital and i mean it all.

Today was the service for all 3 of my friends. Being honest, im scared as fuck.

"Ma? Ma?" I called out walking into the cold empty place i call home.

"Ma. I need you"

No answer. I slumped slowly against the door behind me and began to weep. The worst day ever and my mom couldn't even bother to be here. It's all my fault though, I pushed her away. I had the perfect life, perfect mother, perfect- everything but damn Autumn. Great fucking work. That's why I'm in this position now. I'm why. My mom doesn't deserve such a fuck up.

Slowly my sadness began to turn into anger. Fuck it.

I wiped my tears away and made my way to my mom's bathroom removing the towels from in-front of my solution. I grabbed Don and gulped him down. He's the only man that can satisfy me truly.

Next patron. Then after, Hennessy. Cant drink without having light and dark.

Ending off with something I've heard of but never tried. Everclear. I pop the top with my moms eyelash stabbed and sips it. Eughhhah

This not it but for some reason, I keep drinking it. I'm compelled to it. It's slowly becoming my favorite.

You know what? I'm hungry. I grab the wall and pull myself up and then grab the bottle next as we make our way to the kitchen. Stopping at the stairs, i prepare myself for this battle. Intoxication and stairs do not go well together.

Taking my first step, I say over and over to myself. I will not fall, I will not fall.

Hey I'm not fa- damn. I cuss myself as I tumble down the stairs.