A/N
This is my first story on this site, so cheers for me! Do you know how long it took me to figure out how this dang site works?! Weeks, I tell you, weeks! Months, even. Or maybe I'm being over-dramatic. Eh. But really, I had to look up how to post a story. My pride bleeds because of that. But, anyway~! Here it is, the results of my boredom and over-active curiosity/imagination:
He was having that dream again, that horrible one about that horrible night.
"Please, sweetie. I just want you to stop drinking."
Her voice was always there, soft like a whisper, begging him to just stop drinking.
"I know, Ma, I know. I'm really trying!"
He'd plead his case, he'd say that he's trying to stop taking a bottle to his lips, because he sees his sister's face every time he does, he sees her face—
"Well, sometimes I wonder!"
And then there was the sound of twisting metal, screams, and the shattering of life itself, and Keith "Two-Bit" Matthews would wake up, knowing that it was never just a dream, never just a nightmare. It was cold, hard reality.
The worst part, however, was that it was his entire fault his mom was dead.