home; his car is in the drive. He’s not been home in ages – he has some new blow up doll to fuck. I don’t give a shit, to be honest. When he has a girlfriend then he’s not here to be mad at me, or yell about my mother’s toy boy.
I have the most dysfunctional, fucked up family ever. It’s a miracle I’ve survived this long. Thank fuck I don’t have any siblings. The odds of two kids surviving my parents are slim.
Thankfully I have an enormous extended family and didn’t have to rely on either parent to raise me.
I consider turning around and going to spend the night at a friend’s place or at one of my cousins, but I just want to get into my own bed and sleep. I work for my uncle and he’s a slave driver; we have not had a night off in a week and I’m exhausted.
As long as Dad doesn’t see me I should be fine, besides, I don’t think I have done anything to anger the beast.
I park in my spot on the side of the house and grab my wallet and phone from the glove box before I walk around to the back door. There’s less chance I will run into him from here. I can sneak straight up to my room. My clothes smell of smoke and sweat, and I cannot fucking wait to get into the shower and wash this week off.
Grabbing a bottle of vodka on my way through the kitchen I move upstairs as quietly as I can. I might need it if Dad is still up, but I’m hoping he’s passed out drunk somewhere.
I know mother has gone on a ladies trip to some resort spa and won’t be back ’til Saturday night; she texted me to say she’d be gone. This is more than she usually does, so I was surprised.
There is no sign of my father. His bedroom door is open and he isn’t in it, so I make it all the way to my room and shut the door – thank fuck. I wonder in what shadow he is lurking; he’s probably downstairs in the bar getting plastered, or is already passed out. I’m not going looking for him.
Stripping out of my work clothes, I turn the water on and wait for my bathroom to steam up before I get in and just let it soak everything away.
My cousin has been a dick all week, treating us like shit and persecuting us. Since his wife magically reappeared out of thin air he’s an even bigger asshole. He’s around more and not out following her like a crazy person as he used to, which sucks for those of us accustomed to slacking a little.
The man is obviously unhinged. On Monday, I had to clean brains off his spare room walls after he shot some fucker. Some idiot called Trent or something. It’s not the first time I have had to clean up that type of mess, but it’s the first time he’s ever lost his shit and I have had to clean up after him. Usually he’s quiet – too quiet, he doesn’t talk or do anything – but this week he’s gone fucking crazy.
I haven’t been so thankful for a day off in ages. Usually I like being away from home and keeping busy, but now I need a break.
Collapsing on my bed with a towel wrapped around my waist, I open the vodka and take a giant gulp. It tastes vile after just brushing my teeth and burns like hell on the way down, but I know it will help me sleep.
Checking my phone, there is a text from the girl I hooked up with on Saturday. She was at the bar on the ground floor of our offices, a new waitress with far too few clothes on and way too much boob. Not a take home to family kind of girl, but she was good for a bit of fun in the supply closet.
I must have been drunk to give her my number because I don’t remember doing so. Ugh. I ignore the message and down another massive swig of vodka before ripping open my bed covers and turning on my TV.
The crisp cotton of my clean bed calls to me. Pulling the comforter up to my nose, I settle in to watch all the sport I have DVR’d and drift in and out of consciousness.
I wake in the