One Of Us || Bill Denbrough x Reader

III

One Of Us
III
•

"Mom, we're Home! Mom?" I threw my empty bag on the floor as I entered my house along with Sam.

The house was silent as usual. It still didn't help if we knew Mom was Home or not. She'd be in bed all day whenever we got home then leave for work a little while after.

"She's in her room like always." Sam sighs while taking a seat on the couch.

I nod before approaching her door at the end of the hallway, which was cracked open slightly. I haven't been in her room for a long time...I doubt if anything has changed since then.

The smell of musk and cigarette smoke immediately hit my nose, making me groan in disgust. Clothes were spread out everywhere: on the floor, on her dresser, her mirror, and even on the windowsill. Empty bottles of vodka and lotion were on the floor too.

Laying on the king sized bed was Mom. She was snoring loudly and held a nearly done cigarette between her index and middle finger. Her brown hair was a total mess and her mascara was running down her face.

It looked like she's been crying.

"Uh, Mom?" I called out, slowly walking up to her sleeping form.

Her snoring stopped for a quick second and she let out a terrible cough. She then moaned, turned so her back can face me, and continued snoring.

I rolled my eyes, "Mom!" I poked her back.

She awoke with a gasp and her eyes were wide as she looked at me.

"(Y/N)?" She asks with a tired voice.

I nod, "Yeah, it's me. Just wanted to let you know we're home."

She rubbed her eyes for a moment until she narrowed her eyes at me, "You woke me up for some stupid shit like that?"

I titled my head in confusion, "You said to let you know if we got home."

"Whatever." She groans, "What time is it anyway?"

"Uh..." I looked over at the alarm clock on her dresser, "It's four o'clock."

Mom groans again and rubs her head, "Jesus, really? Fuck..."

I heard a small noise behind and looked over my shoulder to see Sam looking in the room from the doorway. He gave Mom a nasty look as if he was disgusted at her. He then looked at me, frowned, and left.

"How was school, sweetheart?" She asks while lighting a cigarette in her mouth.

The smell of the cigarette nearly made me gag, but I held it in, "Good. I'm just glad today was the last day."

Mom puffed out some smoke and rose her eyebrows in disbelief, "Wait, today was your last day? I thought y'all had another week or two left."

I shook my head, "No...I thought I told you today was the last day?"

Instead of answering, she let out a nasty cough. It made me cringe. She sounded terrible. Maybe it was all those cigarettes she kept smoking.