Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > I don't think you're my drug.
The streets were empty, the small snowflakes left the sky as I trudged back to my house. The bricks blurred past as I speed-walked, and the streetlamps flickered, desperate to turn off. I blinked, as a car speeded past with it's high-beans still switched on. Observing the houses, I swallowed when I came to my home. The lights were on, and the TV was flickering through the net curtains. I walked up the porch to my front door, and turned the silver key in the lock. I scrunched my face up at the sound of the door opening, and poked my head around the door to check if I was in the view of anyone. The coast was clear, and I walked through the doorway and turned around to shut it again.
I winced as I heard a glass break from the kitchen.
"STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME! I TOLD YOU, HE WAS A FRIEND, AND EVEN IF HE WASN'T, IT WOULDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING DICK!" I swallowed, and poked my head around the door of the kitchen, gulping again at the view of my father and mother fighting again. They turned to look at me, and both of their faces softened.
"Sweetie, go to bed. It's nothing, just go upstairs." My mother smiled at me, and I nodded, glancing at my father that had just turned his head back to my mom. I nodded once more, and turned on my heel to walk up the stairs. As soon as they saw my hair flick past the doorframe, the fighting began again.
Sighing, I flung my bag over the side of my desk in my bedroom. I sat on my bed, and looked at the calendar that was hung on the wall next to all of my photos. I looked down to the date today, and sighed again.
"Happy 16th fucking birthday to me." I layed my head into the pillow, and screamed into the cotton. I pounded my fist on the sheets, and looked back at my draws. Opening one, I observed the little packet of white powder, and the bottle of vodka that my friend had given me, for whenever 'I felt annoyed or depressed.' I shook my head, and threw them back into the drawer.
"Never do that Tay. Drugs and alcohol ruin lives." I said to myself, and winced as I heard another glass breaking, and a scream. I put my head in my pillow once more, and screamed again and again, and again. I couldn't help it. It just made me so mad, that my parents hated each other that badly. I couldn't stand it.
I screamed once more, and looked at the photos on the wall. Some where of me and my friends, some were of a time when we were happy as a family. I smiled, and took a picture of my best friend. Well, ex-best friend as of today. I walked in on her, and my boyfriend John kissing. So much for a birthday.
I heard another scream. A heart-wrenching, deathly scream. I widened my eyes, and put on foot in front of the other, desperate to see what had happened downstairs. I pulled my body down the stairs, and upon reaching the bottom, I stood at the foot of the stairs waiting for any sound. Not hearing anything, I made my way to the kitchen.
My heart stopped.
My mother was lying on the floor, covered in deep crimson liquid, clutching her stomach. Towering above her, was my father, holding a knife covered in my mothers blood, his eyes filled with malace and hatred. I screamed, and he looked towards me. His face went slack, and I looked to him nervously.
"Hunnie, please don't tell anyone. I could get sent down for this." I screamed at him, telling him that he should die for what he did. His face was sympathetic, and he moved towards me.
"I'm sorry." was all he said, and he kissed my forehead, and ran out of the house. I screamed again, and ran to the phone.
"AMBULANCE! My mom, shes..." I looked to where her body was still and motionless on the ground.
"Dead..." I cried, and cried, and cried. I pulled myself off of the floor, and reached for the phone once more. I dialled for the police, and told them what had happened over the phone. The man shouted into the phone, and said they would be right over.
I ran up the stairs, and opened my draw again. I pulled out the vodka, downing it in one. I winced as it burned my throat, but threw the bottle over the other side of the room. I took out the bag of cocaine, and looked for a dollar bill. Finding one, I snorted a tiny bit of the powder. I gasped as it burned the inside of my nose, but carried on anyway.
By the time the police had arrived at my house, I had taken at least half of the bag.
My mom had been murdered by my father, and that's why I started.
By this time, I was sitting in Pete's arms, crying into his shoulder. I had told him everything. I couldn't beleive that I had let it all out, that I had given in to someone I didn't even know.
"Shh, it's okay... You're safe..." He whispered into my ear, and I cried even more. He swayed my slightly in his arms, and I sniffed and looked at him.
"I'm sorry... And thank you..." He laughed lightly and shook his head.
"Don't thank me. You just needed someone to listen." I hugged him again, and he held me tight. I looked at him again.
"Please don't tell anyone. I don't think I could face going through that again. I had enough dealing with the police case." He nodded.
"Of course."
I cried with him until I fell asleep.
I winced as I heard a glass break from the kitchen.
"STOP FUCKING YELLING AT ME! I TOLD YOU, HE WAS A FRIEND, AND EVEN IF HE WASN'T, IT WOULDN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING DICK!" I swallowed, and poked my head around the door of the kitchen, gulping again at the view of my father and mother fighting again. They turned to look at me, and both of their faces softened.
"Sweetie, go to bed. It's nothing, just go upstairs." My mother smiled at me, and I nodded, glancing at my father that had just turned his head back to my mom. I nodded once more, and turned on my heel to walk up the stairs. As soon as they saw my hair flick past the doorframe, the fighting began again.
Sighing, I flung my bag over the side of my desk in my bedroom. I sat on my bed, and looked at the calendar that was hung on the wall next to all of my photos. I looked down to the date today, and sighed again.
"Happy 16th fucking birthday to me." I layed my head into the pillow, and screamed into the cotton. I pounded my fist on the sheets, and looked back at my draws. Opening one, I observed the little packet of white powder, and the bottle of vodka that my friend had given me, for whenever 'I felt annoyed or depressed.' I shook my head, and threw them back into the drawer.
"Never do that Tay. Drugs and alcohol ruin lives." I said to myself, and winced as I heard another glass breaking, and a scream. I put my head in my pillow once more, and screamed again and again, and again. I couldn't help it. It just made me so mad, that my parents hated each other that badly. I couldn't stand it.
I screamed once more, and looked at the photos on the wall. Some where of me and my friends, some were of a time when we were happy as a family. I smiled, and took a picture of my best friend. Well, ex-best friend as of today. I walked in on her, and my boyfriend John kissing. So much for a birthday.
I heard another scream. A heart-wrenching, deathly scream. I widened my eyes, and put on foot in front of the other, desperate to see what had happened downstairs. I pulled my body down the stairs, and upon reaching the bottom, I stood at the foot of the stairs waiting for any sound. Not hearing anything, I made my way to the kitchen.
My heart stopped.
My mother was lying on the floor, covered in deep crimson liquid, clutching her stomach. Towering above her, was my father, holding a knife covered in my mothers blood, his eyes filled with malace and hatred. I screamed, and he looked towards me. His face went slack, and I looked to him nervously.
"Hunnie, please don't tell anyone. I could get sent down for this." I screamed at him, telling him that he should die for what he did. His face was sympathetic, and he moved towards me.
"I'm sorry." was all he said, and he kissed my forehead, and ran out of the house. I screamed again, and ran to the phone.
"AMBULANCE! My mom, shes..." I looked to where her body was still and motionless on the ground.
"Dead..." I cried, and cried, and cried. I pulled myself off of the floor, and reached for the phone once more. I dialled for the police, and told them what had happened over the phone. The man shouted into the phone, and said they would be right over.
I ran up the stairs, and opened my draw again. I pulled out the vodka, downing it in one. I winced as it burned my throat, but threw the bottle over the other side of the room. I took out the bag of cocaine, and looked for a dollar bill. Finding one, I snorted a tiny bit of the powder. I gasped as it burned the inside of my nose, but carried on anyway.
By the time the police had arrived at my house, I had taken at least half of the bag.
My mom had been murdered by my father, and that's why I started.
By this time, I was sitting in Pete's arms, crying into his shoulder. I had told him everything. I couldn't beleive that I had let it all out, that I had given in to someone I didn't even know.
"Shh, it's okay... You're safe..." He whispered into my ear, and I cried even more. He swayed my slightly in his arms, and I sniffed and looked at him.
"I'm sorry... And thank you..." He laughed lightly and shook his head.
"Don't thank me. You just needed someone to listen." I hugged him again, and he held me tight. I looked at him again.
"Please don't tell anyone. I don't think I could face going through that again. I had enough dealing with the police case." He nodded.
"Of course."
I cried with him until I fell asleep.
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