The Generation

A Drunken Fool

You trudge along side the young blonde as she continues to drink from a half empty Jack Daniels bottle. She laughs wildly and continues to drag herself along the wall, just incase she loses her footing and falls on the hard concrete pavement. "You know you shouldn't be doing this at your age" you warn her. The girl squints at you and replies with a ever so slightly slurred

"I am old enough to drink". She is not old enough to drink, and she definitely doesn't look it either. You cut through the deserted park and abandon the dimly lit streets. You see no point in arguing with her about her drinking and smoking because you know she won't listen. "Don't tell mum" she mumbles as she stumbles over next to you. You wrap your arms around her so she doesn't topple over like Jenga.

"I won't" you tell her as you kiss the top of her head. Your sister always fitted in at school. But this time it was the wrong type of people. They were the ones who got her into going out to the parties and the drinking. They were the ones who got her into smoking and the bad habits. She was only fourteen when it all started, and now, two years later it has gotten worse.

There was a minute of silence before you broke it. " I'm going away for a bit again" you said into her hair, still holding your little sister close to you, still feeling sorry for her, still feeling slightly guilty that you weren't the best brother you could be and stear her away from all the bad she got herself into. "Why?" She moaned. You never told her the real reason as to why you would occasionally dissappear for three-five months and then come back like nothing ever happened. You then gave her the same excuse you always did. "Studying in another country". She let out a huff into the side of your chest. If it was up to you you would tell her the truth. But your mum told you it would be best to keep it a secret. You can understand why, but you have never really liked the whole concept of lying. You keep her in your arms all the way home. When you reach the front door, while pulling out your keys, your sister says "I never like it when you go away. Your the only one who really knows me". You gave her a sad smile.

"Kate, if it was up to me I would stay. But I have to go" you told her. Kate just looked over at the rose bushes in the front garden to avoid your eyes. You cup you hand under her chin and turn her face to face yours. Her blue eyes shine in the moonlight, like two droplets of rain, gleaming on a window. Her mascara and eyeliner is smudge slightly around her eyes and her foundation is now patchy. "I love you Kate, don't you ever doubt it. I am you brother. I will never leave you. And don't worry, I will be back before you know it." You wipe a slight wet patch in the corner of her eye and she smiles at you. You unlock the door and let Kate in first. She stumbles up the stairs and you hear her bedroom door click shut.

"You know she is not going to change" you hear a very familiar voice say. You look over your shoulder to see your friend and guide George standing behind you. He is always wearing a suit, which was a medium grey, and a blue tie. He wasn't young, but he wasn't old either. You never asked, but you could tell by his slight bald spot and his slightly sunken face that he was forty to fifty years old.

"Yeah, I know" you sigh.

"She is a drunken fool" he says shaking his head in disapproval.

"But she is my sister, and I love her". George never was one for family. After all, he was an only child and never had kids in his lifetime. He was one of those people who wanted to live the dream. He had told you about the great big house he once owned and the shops he would run, and it all sounded marvellous. They both wondered through to the living room. He settled in the green leather armchair in the corner of the room while you continued to walk through to the kitchen.

"I would offer you a drink, but I know you can't drink anything"

"Thats quite alright Quaid. I know you would have offered anyway"

You continued to make your cup of tea and pulled yourself a plain biscuit out of the cupboard. "Do you really have time for biscuits?" George questioned you.

" Yes." You reply plainly.  As you place the biscuit into your mouth and walking into the living room. You and George sit in silence while you munch.

"I have always loved your house," George says breaking the silence. Your house is a old creaky house, with antiques everywhere. Your mother always did have a thing for old things.

"Thank you George" you reply.

" It always has a welco-". George is then cut off by the sound of your mother's voice and footsteps approaching the living room.

"Quaid, who are you talking to darling?" She then appears in the archway of the living room. "Is it George? " she asks with a slight smile.

"Yeah" you reply, "Oh,  and Lizzy is back and in her room" you also add.

"Oh thank god. Oh, and hello George".

He just gives a polite wave, knowing that she can't hear him.

"He says hello to" you tell her.

"You'd better start packing and heading off now" she says looking down at her leather strap watch.

"Apparently there is a rogue demon on the loose this time" she said. You get up and start heading to your room to pack your things. And as usual, George fades away.