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Fuck, I didn't deserve a friend like him.
I passed the bottle over to him. "Here, drink some."
He hesitatingly took it, palming it nervously.
I knew he wasn't afraid to drink liquor: his mother had put it in his bottle to get him to calm down when he was a baby. I didn't know why he was hesitating now.
"I don't know," he held it to his chest. "I told Nana I wouldn't drink anymore."
Not only had his mother been an addict but she was also a drunk.
"It's okay, just this one time." He was going to need it. I grabbed the bottle and pressed it to his mouth. "Your nana won't find out."
His lips parted and I tilted it until he'd had a generous sip. I was so goddamn awful, practically pouring it down his throat like this.
We passed it back and forth until my worries slowly ebbed out. It was done, and there was nothing I could do about it now.
Rook began to talk again, obsessed with his new chess move, and I tuned him out, encouraging him to drink with me.
By the time we pulled up to the house, he was loose and confident again, swaggering as he walked up to the front door.
I stepped out, stopping to stare at him, my anxiety suddenly slamming back into me with full force.
I didn't want to go up there, I didn't want to go up there, I didn't want to go.
It took me a few moments of fighting with myself.
I could walk away now, and I would never have to face the terrible truth of what I'd done.
Rook paused in the doorway, turning to look at me, a goofy grin on his face. “You coming?"
I couldn't be a coward. Not now, when he would need me the most.
I nodded. "I'm coming."
He waited while I walked up the walkway, my gut churning, acid dripping, self-hatred washing over me. Every step forward was a reminder of who I was. What my family did to others. How they destroyed them for more money and power.
As soon as I was in the doorway, and with the soft light of the waning day lighting up the inside, he ran forward, calling out, "Nana! We're back."
After shutting the door, I followed him into the darkness of the hallway, already closing off my emotions, a method that was getting easier. When I reached the end, he was standing in Nana's doorway, frozen, his mouth open in shock.
"Nana!" He disappeared into the barely lit room, bumping into the table by the front door, making the lamp fall and crash to the floor.
Even in the newfound darkness, I could see her.
Nana's face was pale, her eyes staring up at the ceiling, her mouth open, as if she'd struggled for her very last breath.
She was dead.
Rook collapsed to his knees. Falling to the floor, he bent over, his hands grasping the orange carpet, and threw up.
I could only stare, emotionless, at her sickly thin form. When he was done, I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "I'll take care of you now."
TWO
Four hours later…
Every bone in my body ached as I made my way through the front door of where I lived. In shock and horror at what we'd just done, I struggled to keep my thoughts and memories under control. They leaked from my mind, clogging up my insides and burning the back of my eyes.
