AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It wasn't the first time I'd felt like this.
My mom lived on the edge of danger—often bringing strange and violent men into our home, in search of her next high.
I'd woken to them beating her, or her lying in a pool of her own blood with her teeth knocked out.
We barely had any furniture, because it was so often destroyed in drunken and drug fueled fights.
I crept down the hallway, my heart in my throat, fear making my body shake.
The music only got louder, with the interruption of a DJ’s voice blaring in my ears as I rounded the corner into the living room.
"Good morning, this fine summer day! It's gonna be a scorcher as the high is expected to reach well over a hundred and—” I didn't hear the rest as the roar in my ears was louder than anything else.
What had sounded like a lively group last night was now only a party of two—my mom, and some guy I'd never seen before.
He was lying on the floor in his underwear, though they were halfway down his thighs, with his limp dick dirty with his sticky, white cum. He was lying face up, his mouth open, drool draining from his lips.
He was passed out.
My mom was on the couch, lying face down. I could smell the vomit from here. She wasn't moving.
I could only stare at them in shock until, finally, I forced my feet forward, the sound from the blaring radio too loud.
I shut it off, still staring at my mother's chest, willing it to move.
When it didn't, I timidly stepped over the man lying on the floor, hating the way his scraggly beard had traces of white powder and small bits of chip crumbs. I could smell the alcohol he'd spilled on his plaid shirt from where I stood.
Keeping an eye on him, I made my way to my mom. Afraid he would jump up and attack me, I finally made it to the couch.
She still wasn't moving.
Eyes wide, I leaned over, my heart pounding, pounding, fear closing off my throat. I could barely move as I pressed two fingers to her neck.
I waited.
There was no movement.
I held my breath, my chest tight with anticipation.
Nothing.
The fear crawled up my chest to my mouth, my own vomit of stomach acid lurching up my throat. I grit my teeth, willing it down.
Gathering all my strength, I pushed her on to her side. She was wearing a bra and no underwear. Her face was pale, too pale, her lips blue, vomit covering her lips and chin.
With trembling fingers, I reached and took the phone at her side, calling the one number I'd ever memorized.
After two rings, a warm and familiar voice picked up. “Tanya?”
"Nana?” I hated the way my voice shook.
"Rook, what's wrong?"
"Nana. I need you."
Lights flashing down the long drive ripped me from the memory and I jumped to my feet. Grabbing the binoculars, I peered through the windows.
It was a gray Lincoln—Veritas vehicle. So, Garrett had been useful, after all.
