13. Daddy’s Home #2
“You scare me,” she blubbered. “When you leave for days at a time without even calling. You stay out all night doing God knows what! Maybe you’ll like college, honey...”
“Mom, you don’t understand—” I started.
“Quit the guilt trip, Noah,” Damian intervened, stepping in between us. “Because you’re going.”
I clenched my fists, feeling my anger taking over, the rage bubbling to the surface faster than I could control it. “You can’t make me do anything.” I threw my hands into the air, retreating towards the door. “I’ll leave,” I threatened.
And I could. I didn’t know where to go, or what to do, but I wasn’t opposed to trying. I didn’t have to live in this house anymore. I didn’t have to deal with controlling assholes like Damian. If I had money, a few belongings, and my drugs…
…then I would be fine.
My mother wailed in response and Damian took hold of my shirt collar, dragging me into the other room, away from her distressed cry.
He shut the door, pulling me within a few inches of his face. His jaw clenched and as much as I dug my hands into his grip, I couldn’t break it.
“Get the f—”
“You think I didn’t notice your mess?” he whispered harshly.
Any retaliation I was forming shriveled into the back of my throat.
I knew it.
My cheeks flamed and a knot was forming in the pit of my stomach. I felt a wave of nausea strike me. I made an effort to pretend Damian’s remark didn’t matter to me.
“First off, if that Thorne trash ever lays a foot on our property again, I’m going to arrest him. You got that?”
When I didn’t answer, Damian shook me so violently that my head snapped from side to side.
It brought back memories of when we were smaller Damian would practice his boxing skills on me as if I were a dummy.
Since I generally had no idea how to fight back or defend myself, I usually just traded Damian one of my toys in return for him to stop using me as a human punching bag.
“Answer me!”
“Yes. You dick.” I groaned in pain.
“You’re going to college,” he repeated. “You’re going to better yourself and hang around the right crowds and make something of yourself.”
I chuckled. I couldn’t help it. “Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?”
Damian said nothing, obviously understanding when he had been beaten. Although I knew the blow was a low one, I was also very aware of the fact that my brother didn’t give up that easily. We had always been competitive growing up.
For attention. For love.
Damian never lost those battles.
“I don’t care,” Damian finally said. “You’re going. Starting tomorrow.”
I shoved him. “Fuck you.”
Damian grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me forward again.
“You’ll go. Or I’ll tell father about all of your other...mistakes,” he warned.
I was enraged. Blackmail. A tactic right out of the cop’s manual.
“You don’t even know the half of it!” I yelled.
Nobody heard my opinions. Nobody listened. Nobody cared.
I was a corpse rotting away from the inside, awaiting the day that I would be laid upon my death bed.
Then they would see me.
Then they would care.
“You think I didn’t find the crack pipes?” Damian murmured sadly, his eyes distant.
I stopped breathing. “What?”
Damian pulled out what I feared from his jacket pocket. All of the pipes, and my cherished little bag of white powder sat potently in my brother’s hand, staring up at me.
“One time, Noah?” Damian ground out, circling me, much like David would do. Like father, like son, they always say.
“You found it, Noah?”
I began to zone out, away from the cold, hard voice. I dug deep inside myself, back to the time when I first bought the stuff. Back to the time when I was still sane, and somewhat clean. Before the constant cravings.
“What does it do?”
“Ohhh, man. You will feel like you’re flying.”
“Does it get rid of pain?”
“You’ll feel numb.”
“Memories?”
“Good as gone.”
I had bought every bag. A total of two thousand dollars worth.
“What do you think it will feel like?” I had asked Alex that night.
“Do you really want to smoke it?”
“Yeah. I can forget my problems.”
“They won’t go away.”
I knew that.
“Whatever. You know what I mean.”
“It doesn’t have to be the answer.”
“Who are you?”
“Your best friend. Alex Anderson.”
“That’s what I thought—so don’t act like my parents.”
Or my brother.
“Just speaking my mind.”
“Well, stop. You do it too much.”
“Noah, I’m afraid for you.”
“Good. At least someone is.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means it’s working.”
The memory was consumed with the sudden reality that Damian was shaking me. His mouth was moving but nothing was coming out of it. The churning in my stomach was bringing with it the urge to vomit. What should I do now? If I couldn’t get my hands on more drugs, I would be an emotional wreck.
I didn’t mean to get hooked.
“What are you doing to yourself?” Damian screamed, the silence finally broken, along with it, something snapping. He was using the very words I was asking myself.
What am I doing?
“How could you do this?” Anguish bled through Damian’s eyes to mine.
I stared at him blankly, knowing that he wasn’t controlling his emotions any longer. Damian never got this bad, so I wasn’t sure how to respond to his outcry.
“You are only nineteen, and you’re ruining your life!”
“Wrong,” I muttered. Damian’s mouth clamped shut from the sternness in my voice. It was true and he knew it. “My life was ruined before I started drugs,” I said.
No one can fix me.
“I’m broken.”
I want to stay shattered.
“I despise life.”
I live only for pleasure.
“You can’t do anything about it, Damian.”
Watch me burn.
“And it’s about time you learned that about me. I’m a lost cause.”
Used and abused.
I threw my head back with laughter. “I don’t even know why I try anymore!”
What’s the point?
“What’s the fucking point?”
The world was once again a silent pool of thought.
“Love, Noah.” Damian murmured, releasing me. “Hold on to it. It might be the only thing you have left.”
You sucked all of the love in like a sponge, leaving me dry.
“Yeah? And what if that runs out?”
With nothing.
“The moment you lose love, you lose everything. But you know that you always have it here, with me.” Damian smiled grimly. “You should go to sleep. I’m going to be waking you first thing in the morning.”
“I should.”
“I’m not going to tell mother or father about this. I’m going to get you help.”
You can try.
“Whatever.”
“Goodnight, Noah.”
“Mhm.”
I retreated before Damian decided he wanted to criticize me more. As I walked back to my room, I smirked. I had love for whatever I desired. And in the grand scheme of things, I knew I would win this fight.
I was playing a game, right?
My whole life was one.
Well, then…
Checkmate.