WARNING:
This chapter contains some triggers!
-implied abuse
-implied/pretty obvious substance abuse
Stay safe! Don't read this is anything here might set you off! Love you all ❤
It was dark when he came home. Unlocking and opening the door quietly, Ethan cringed slightly when the door squeaked. The light from the streetlights pored into the dark living room, the smell of smoke and alcohol lingering in the room. Ethan grimaced at the smell. It was never one if his favorites.
Ethan tracked through the living room and into the kitchen where he droped off his backpack on one of the bar stools and grabbed an apple. He ruffled his brown hair and rubbed the bridge if his nose, pushing up his glasses. Empty beer bottles were strewn across the counter, bottles he was too lazy clean up after long days of school. Ethan blinked at the apple in his hand, turning it over and finding a huge bruise. Ethean's face scrunched in discuss as he put it back. He'd have to go shopping. Again.
Ethan sighed. He worked too hard and too long for this, but what can he do? He's just a broken kid in a broken family.
Something shifted upstairs, causing the ceiling of the apartment to creak. It creak all the way across the ceiling and down the stairs. The hallways light flicked on, revealing Ethan's father. He has a strong smell of alcohol sourounding and he glared down at Ethan. Ethan shifted uncomfortably as his father spoke.
"Did you stop by the drug store?"
"No... I, uh, I planned on stopping tomorrow, when I was doing the rest of the shopping.."
"I told you to stop tonight." His father's voice held a hit of aggression as he took a step forward.
"You're right, I'm sorry, I'll never happen again," the words tumbled out of his mouth, spoke in suck a panic. He didn't want to have to explain another black eye.
"It better not." Ethan' s father grumbled before shuffling away, making his way back upstairs.
Ethan let out a breath he knew full well he was holding. He always had to be careful late at night, when everyone's drunk at tired. Watching your words and stepping quietly only did so well before even breathing the wrong way ticked them off.
The light upstairs shut off and Ethan shoved his hands into his face. He gave a shaky sigh and tried to still his shaking shoulders. Like I said, just a broken kid, in a broken home.
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I just felt like writing something dark tbh. This is just a drabble I wrote for one of my newest, yet to be introduced, characters. Feedback is always welcome! Also, I'm thinking about opening writing requests but I have no idea if people even look at this book anymore. Please let me know!
