Chapter One
Kacey
“Are you drunk? Kacey, look at me!” My mother met me at the door and caught me before I could stumble into the wall. “This again? You’re twenty years old! You’re not even old enough to drink!”
“I’m fine, I just want to go to bed.” I could still taste the alcohol on my tongue when I spoke, so I knew there was no hiding my intoxication.
“You’re not fine!” She held my arm as I tried to pull away. “We’re going to have a long conversation about this tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to talk.” I broke free from her grasp but stumbled again. “Just leave me alone!”
“This is the last time you come home drunk, Kacey. I’m not putting up this kind of behavior anymore!” My mother folded her arms across her chest as I walked towards the hall.
“What’s going on?” I heard a squeaky voice and looked down the hallway to see my younger sister rubbing her eyes. “Why are you yelling at each other?”
“Go back to bed, Lucy.” I stumbled past her and grabbed my doorknob. “I’m fine.”
“Mommy, what’s wrong with Kacey?” Lucy’s voice was agitated and confused.
“I said I’m fine!” I turned and yelled at my sister before slamming my door in anger.
“You heard your sister—go back to bed.” My mother’s voice echoed in the hallway and then I heard her door close with a thud.
I walked across my bedroom and started peeling off clothes as I continued to stumble. I managed to strip down to my panties before crashing into the bed and falling across the mattress. I knew the morning would be filled with regret, but I needed to sleep before I faced my mother’s wrath. I was sure her threat was an empty one. It wasn’t the first time I had come home drunk and it wouldn’t be the last. It had been an everyday occurrence for so long that I lost track of the last time I went to bed without enough alcohol in my system to pass out.
Usually, my mother was already asleep when I came stumbling in the house, so I wasn’t sure if she realized exactly how bad it truly was. The few times she was awake, she threatened me, but they were empty threats. They certainly weren’t enough to make me stop. I went a little further than normal since it was Friday night and I didn’t have to work the next day. The alcohol numbed everything inside me and it was the only way I managed to cope with all of the things that went wrong in my life. I might have been on a downward spiral, but I was a long way from rock bottom.
Oh yeah, this hangover is going to be a fucking bitch.
I woke up with dry eyes and a splitting headache. When I sat up in bed, I felt my stomach do a somersault and some of the liquor I drank the night before rumbled up into my esophagus. It tasted vile going down and the aftertaste was putrid. My body was covered in sweat, and even my perspiration smelled like vodka. I grabbed my shirt and wiped the drool from my mouth. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and hardly recognized the face staring back at me.
People used to say I was beautiful, but the girl in the mirror was disgusting. I ran my fingers through my light brown hair, flattened it the best I could, and found my cleanest dirty shirt. I needed something in my stomach that wasn’t fermented, and although the thought of eating made me want to hurl, I knew I wasn’t going to feel better unless I did.
I stepped out of my room once I had some clothes on and held my hand up to block the light from the window at the end of the hallway. The smell of bacon and coffee drew me towards the kitchen. I didn’t really want to face my mother, but my need for sustenance was stronger than the fear of her wrath. I made it to the end of the hallway without throwing up, which I considered to be a small victory. If I could get some food in me, the nausea would start to pass. I had become an expert in curing hangovers, which wasn’t something I was especially proud of, but it was necessary.
“Sit down, Kacey. We are going to have this conversation whether you want to or not.” My mother glared across her coffee cup as I walked into the kitchen.
“Where’s Lucy?” I looked over my shoulder into the living room where she would normally be watching Saturday morning cartoons.
“I asked her to go outside for a while, so we could talk.” My mother motioned to the chair. “Please sit down.”
“Fuck, let me get something to eat first.” I walked past her and felt her hand on my arm.
“No, sit down—now!” My mother’s temper flared, and she pointed at the chair with authority.
She really doesn’t understand how bad I need to eat something.
“Okay, fine, let’s get it over with.” I pulled out the chair and took a seat. “I’m sorry. I had too much to drink. It won’t happen again.”
“I’m tired of hearing that spiel from you. I believed it the first couple of times, but it doesn’t even sound like you mean it anymore.” She sighed and put her coffee cup on the table.
“I don’t know what you want from me!” I folded my arms across my chest and stared at the table. “I’m doing the best I can.”
“If this is your best—god help you, Kacey!” She exhaled sharply and slammed her hand down on the table so hard I jumped. “I’ve tried to be understanding, but this has to end. I know it sucks to lose someone you love, but you can’t keep doing this.”
“Lose someone? I didn’t lose him. He fucking cheated on me!” I lifted my head and felt tears welling up in my eyes. “I thought you would be understanding, considering that Dad did the same thing to you.”
“You don’t think I would have loved to just drink away my pain every night? I had two girls to take care of. I didn’t get that luxury.” She shook her head angrily. “Yes, it sucks. It isn’t fair. But guess what, Kacey—life isn’t always fair. Sometimes you just have to slap a smile on your face, fix your fucking makeup, and put one foot in front of the other.”
“Yep, and you keep putting one foot in front of the other until you get to the bar—and if your fake ID don’t work, you keep going until you get to the next one.” I glared at her and shrugged. “I’m dealing it in my own way.”
“Not anymore.” She blinked a couple of times and pursed her lips together. “Not while you live under my roof. The next time you walk through that door smelling like booze will be the last time you step foot in this house.”
“You’re going to throw me out?” I scoffed and my lip twisted in disgust. “Fine, I don’t want to live here anymore anyway.”
Even if I have no idea where the hell I’m going to go.
I went back to my room and broke down in tears. I regretted what I said, especially when I realized what it meant, but my pride prevented me from trying to take back my words. I pulled a duffel bag out of my closet and started packing some clothes. I wasn’t really sure where I would go, but I had a few friends that would let me stay with them for a couple of days. That would give me some time to figure out the rest of it. I filled the duffel bag with as much as it could hold and realized I needed a lot more room. I pulled the roller bag from the top of my closet that I normally took on vacation and started filli
ng it as well. Most of my stuff was going to stay, but I would at least have enough to avoid coming back for a while.