Gateway Drug | Volume I

Gateway Drug | Part Eleven

Warning(s): Explicit Language
Mentions of drug use
Violence

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"Mom?" I ask, paralyzed by her stare, absentmindedly moving closer to Nikki as if there's a chance she'll lunge for my throat and he'll keep her off of me.

Her empty, cold, eyes study the both of us, not matching her warm smile. She's putting on a facade and we know it.

"Sweetheart, we have been flipping over every rock in this city looking for you." She tells me, relieved.

"You two aren't the easiest couple to find." My dad adds calmly, giving me a genuine, sympathetic smile.

Nikki and I exchange looks as my mother starts tapping her foot, keeping her overbearing smile on her face as she waits for us to invite them inside.

I finally give up and step behind Nikki, giving the three of them room to come inside as I say, "You can come sit down."

Nikki gives me a glare at my invitation to them, and I lick my lips, mouthing "sorry" to him.

"Quaint little place you've got here, Sweetie." My mom points out, keeping her frozen smile as she looks over the empty alcohol containers in the garbage can and packs of cigarettes scattered about.

Although she's still smiling, her eyes appear to be disgusted and angry, looking at Nikki as if all of this is his doing. He's the Devil that kidnapped her perfect Vivian from grace.

She finally sits down beside my father on the couch, hesitating due to a suspicious stain on the cushion.

Her fingers brush a smooth, curled piece of her bangs out of her eyes, and she moves her knees to the side to keep herself modest in her pastel yellow dress.

"Come talk to us, dear," She tells me and motions for me to come sit on the coffee table in front of her.

Her eyes flitter down my exposed legs, peeping at the short pajama shorts I'm wearing, partnered with one of Nikki's T-shirt's that she takes notice of. But that damn smile doesn't falter a bit.

Once I'm sitting in front of her, she's grasping at the both of my hands, gently, trying to make me believe she's calm when I know she wants to scream at me.

"I think we are long overdue for a talk, Vivian." She explains, choosing her words carefully.

"I think so, too." I admit, trying to keep my voice calm but it's shaking.

"We left things off on the wrong foot, you remember?" She asks, reaching to me to fix a stray hair of mine.

"Yes, ma'am." I have no idea why she has this much power over me. Anytime I speak to her I regress into a seven year old, scared to say the wrong thing and get her in to a frenzy.

"Your father and I have been talking a lot the past few days, and we've decided we want you to come back home." She informs me and I furrow my brows a little.

"What?"

"Kicking you out of the house for making your own decisions was out of line and uncalled for, is what your mother is trying to say." My dad speaks up, leaning forward. He looks at my mother with a glaring undertone, and she brushes it off, keeping her eyes on me.

"I was a bit theatrical." She confesses shamelessly, chuckling a little. "But I was caught off guard by it, Viv. Your whole life has been dedicated to making sure you were going to end up at a prestigious school with fine academics and a pristine performance program. We took all the proper measures to make sure you never hurt your feet so you'd have a long Ballet career, we kept your mind and your body in shape...you were so close, darling, and you suddenly decided you didn't want to dance or go to school. All of the time and energy spent over the years for you to accomplish something and you backed out at the last minute. I got angry. Could you blame me?"