'Hey, I just wanna sober you up,' he was saying. 'what the f#ck did you think I meant?'
I noticed he was holding his hand out to me, palm turned upwards.
'Take it.' he said.
It was a small wrap of coke. I'd seen enough of the stuff in my house with my cousins to know. I had never taken any though. Dad would have flipped
I took the wrap from Kyle then handed it back. 'I can't cut lines.'
He nodded and began to scrape the powder out onto the cistern while I tried to stay on my feet. He showed me how to snort the line, big breath out,
note in the nostril, hold it close to the powder, and sniff…the furry stuff tickled as it went up my nose where it turned wet. Then it started to
burn. A sharp taste hit the back of my throat, trickling slowly down mixing with my saliva.
'Disgusting.' I retched.
'Yeah, but good
.' Kyle clarified.
And he was right.
F#ck this getting-drunk sh#t, I told Kyle. I wasn't touching another drop. It was f#cking overrated anyway. Just like everything else. Just like
f#cking life. I apologised to him, for the thinking-he-was-away-to-f#ck-me thing. He said it was cool, I said it was dumb, he said it was ok though,
cos whenever a dumb thing happened to one person, a really clever thing happened to another person. That was karma. So maybe right now someone was
finding a cure for the flu or something. Yeah, karma. I liked karma, I liked it a lot.
It shouldn't be long then, before karma caught up with my dad. Of all the sh#tty things he'd ever done, nothing good had ever happened for it. It was
his fault, the car crash, and he should be in jail for it. He killed her, he knows it. That's why he acts the way he does. That's why he makes
everyone hate him. He needs to be hated. I had never thought about it with so much clarity before but suddenly it was all true, like a light was
switched on in my head.
I told Kyle everything, in that skanky toilet, in that crumby pub, line after line, in our own little world. I told him about the dad and the
depression and the hatred and the drinking. And the mother, how she wasn't any better. How she left after my sister died, she didn't want to look at
me, be reminded of her, she couldn't handle it.
'She hates him. And he feels guilty. It's eating him up like rot setting in.'
Kyle was looking up at me.
'What are you thinking?' I asked.
'I'm thinking we need more chiz.'
Another light switched on in my head. 'I know where there's tonnes of it.'
Someone was kicking at the door anyway. It was time to leave, last orders had been and gone. We stumbled out into the street but this time my feet
weren't just dancing my whole mind was too. My cousins always had a mean supply of coke on them especially when my dad had his
weekender-family-gathering things. I could just sneak in, get some then head off with Kyle. It was simple. Everything was. It had to be, my mind was
dancing. And Kyle was the type of person you could tell anything to. We would do this again, Kyle said. F#ck sitting in with your dad every night of
the week. We would do this next weekend, and the next. It was great, everything was going to be great. I didn't think about the mad family. I didn't
think about the fight, or the fact my mother might show up. But I should have, because good things never last. Karma can be such a f#cking bitch.
We had reached my street and I stopped dead in my tracks, a new rush flowing through my body. A rush of white panic. Bodies had spilled out of my
house and onto the pavement, people were shouting, a woman's voice screaming. It had set the neighbourhood dogs off barking. My dad was in the middle
of it all, with two men holding him back. The woman stood boldly in front of him, screeching obscenities against the wind like some sort of
It was my mother.
'Holy hell.' I said and Kyle instinctively took my hand.
I looked up at his face for a moment, his clear creamy skin such a contrast to the vast blackness of the night sky behind him. He was so easy on the
eyes, like viewing the world in soft focus. Turning back to the carnage before me was the hardest thing I had ever had to do.
And then my dad spotted us.
Get out of here
, my mum was screaming. She was waving her arms, at me. At us.
I'd only just got here and she was telling me to go. Her face was manic, her eyes bulging. I swallowed past the hard lump in my throat. I'd never seen
her like this before.
…she was saying. He's got a f#cking gun.
And then came the cracking. Like invisible fireworks, splitting the night air open. I couldn't see what was happening. I couldn't see where it had
came from but there was a new wave of screams and Kyle had let go of my hand.
My mother was running up to me, she was grabbing me, pulling me away, her body trembling. We were behind a car now, crouched low. I could see Kyle,
but he was lying on the ground.
'What's wrong with him?'
My mother said nothing, only recited the holy-mary prayer she used to sing after dad had beat her up.
with him?' I was trying to move but my mother wouldn't let me. I dug my nails into her arms and she released me with a
I stumbled over to Kyle. He was still on the ground.
'Oh please, I can't lose another daughter!' Mum was whimpering behind me.
'Just shut the f#ck up!' I hissed at her. Kyle was on the ground and no-one was caring. I touched his face. 'Kyle?'
He wouldn't open his eyes.
It was f#cked up, everything was #ed up.
My eyes found my dad, he was sitting on the edge of the pavement, head between his knees. Now I saw the dark shape of a gun hanging from his hands. I
could hear his sobs from here.
'What have you done?' I whispered in disbelief.
Kyle was still. His creamy skin had turned pale, like milk gone sour.
'He's done nothing wrong.' I was still whispering, I couldn't say it out loud. 'Nobody's done anything wrong.'
Police were suddenly everywhere and mum my jumped to her feet, taking her cue. 'He's a psycho! You get him locked him up! He's killed before, you
Dad got to his feet, held his hands out. Allowed the officers to cuff him. My dad, who normally puts up a fight for anything, let them snap on the
cuffs and handed over the gun. He turned his head up to the sky. I'm sorry
he was saying, in a voice that didn't even sound like his. My
little girl, I'm so sorry
. As the officers led him to their car, I heard him say thank you. To the officers, he was thanking them.
'Let him rot in f#cking jail,' my mum was seething.
Dad glanced at her, and at me. The streetlights touched on his face with a soft glow and I could see that he was smiling. He was relieved.
'Sick b#stard,' mum spat.
But I shook my head. 'It's his punishment, mum. He's finally been cured.'
She drew me a look that only distanced us further. The darkness between us seemed to get colder and emptier.
I left her standing alone on the road and sat next to Kyle. The cold from the pavement seeped through my clothes, numbing my skin. I held onto his
hand while the paramedics approached. I never understood why the police always arrived before the life-savers.
'Couldn't you have got here sooner?' I said and finally started to cry, tasting a bitterness at the back of my throat. It was the coke I had just
snorted twenty minutes ago with a guy I'd just told my life story to. A guy called Kyle. A guy who was now lying on the pavement because of my dad.
Because of me.
edit on 7-12-2014 by daftpink because: typos