Sex And Writing|| 18+ [{Completed}]

7

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. I groaned half-asleep reaching towards my nightstand, feeling the intense vibrations of my annoying phone in my palm. Why does everyone have to call and wake me up? Especially after a night of drinking. Out of habit, I didn't bother to open my eyes, and I brought it to my ear. 

You see where that got me last time, why not chance it again?

"Hello?" I said in a gargled voice, feeling C.J. stir beside me.

Almost forgetting he had crawled into bed with me the night before. Which would have been awkward, but he gave me an odd sense of security. So I didn't force him to the couch. Feeling his body heat next to mine, was enough to calm my brain and I actually slept for once.

"Oh, Mercy, thank God!" My body stiffened at her voice I shot up in bed with my mouth stuck open. A fly could have flown into my mouth and I wouldn't have noticed because the panic building inside my heavy chest was too strong.

The cool air around me evaporated any morsel of moisture on my tongue. Leaving me desperate for a drink...of anything.

My eyes darted back towards C.J.who was still sound asleep despite my movements. I carefully crept out of bed as quietly as I could and headed toward the kitchen at the other end of my apartment.

This conversation wasn't going to turn out nice and the last thing I needed was someone from the outside judging me on how I spoke to this woman.

"How did you get this number?" I spat through gritted teeth. Walking a rut into the tiled floor, unable to stop myself from pacing myself insane.

"Well--its a public number, dear. I just wanted to talk to you. You've avoided me for so long." She sang her same old tune again.

Of course, I've avoided you, you manipulative excuse for a mother, I wanted to say. I never achieved anything arguing with her though. It was pointless.

"I have my reasons," I said softly, trying not to fall into her net of lies again. She was obviously calling to cast a line, hoping to hook me.

3 years. 3 years of strictly no contact flushed down the toilet with one mistake.

"I just wanted to call and tell you how devastating it has been not having you and your sisters around. The only one to keep me company is your father." She boohooed again, my heart feeling no sympathy for her. Which seemed cold, but anyone with a brain could see her rouse from a mile away.

"Step-father," I quickly corrected her, not wanting to claim that man who was as equally of a jerk, as my father. He was nowhere near the father my real dad was.

"Oh, Mercy, get over yourself. He's been there since the day your dad died." I needed a drink, a really big drink. It was five o clock somewhere, right?

I took a deep breath, "why are you calling me, Mom?" I loathed that word more than anything. Mom. She was my birth giver, the reason for my holy name, but she wasn't a mom. Not by a long shot

"Can't I miss my youngest daughter? It's been three years since I've seen you or talked to you. At least Hope comes and says hello to me. You ignore me! I don't know what I've ever done to you to deserve this?"

She was hysterically crying into the phone now and I groaned holding the phone into the air, searching the cabinets for a shot of alcohol. Any drop of alcohol to get me through the phone call with her.

Thank you unhealthy coping skills. Ugh.

"Sorry, Mom, I've been really busy with work lately and I graduated from school last year..." which of course she didn't come to. If it wasn't about her or didn't get her attention, then she wouldn't even think to come. And she didn't. Just my very enthusiastic older twin sisters came to see me walk across the stage.