My body trembled as I stood on top of the roof. The wind blew so hard that it felt as though it cut through my skin and I shivered as a result. But that wasn't going to change my mind. I closed my eyes but saw an intense white flash so I reopened them quickly and saw nothing. The hallucinations were becoming more intense but it was okay, it would all end soon. Arms out and eyes closed, I was ready to fall. Before I got to the edge, another huge gush of wind came and pushed me away from the edge and I fell hard on my side. "Fuck," I whispered as I sat up, rubbing my arm. I couldn't even die right.
"Micah, get down here!" I heard my dad scream.
You'd think that by now, my brother, Matt and I would've left. You'd think we would've the first time he ever laid his hand on me. Or the second. Maybe even the third. You know, maybe. Or… maybe the first time he pulled my pants down… Sorry for the side-track. His voice does one of two things to me: makes me completely numb or makes me remember and feel everything. And because of the 27 pills I'd taken a half hour before this, I was numb but sensitive to everything… "Now!" I heard him again. His words slurred a bit- he's drunk. I stood up, brushed my capris clean and opened the attic- to- roof door so that I could go back into our 3 story brick house.
"Yeah," I said to my dad, breathy as ever, as I reached the bottom of the stairwell. He was sitting on the couch, shirtless, with a beer in his hand and only a desk lamp on. I was trying to focus my eyes so that he wouldn't notice that I was high. "Where's your brother?" He asked me. Matt had gone out earlier with some girl. I didn't know where he was. "Upstairs, I think." I lied. I knew I lied, we all knew I lied but I couldn't help but do so. I was used to it. "Ey." He said. I hated when he said that… I never knew how to respond and not responding was automatic trouble. "What's up?" Dumb thing to ask. He looked away from the T.V and back at me. "Nothing I'm gonna talk to your black ass about. Go away, crusty ass nigga," he said. I put my head down and tried not to say anything. He became a drunk after my mom died. Matt and I are half-brother and sister. He's older, my dad's son. My mom was black and Italian and died when I was 4. Now I'm 17, living in hell. "Fuck you." I retaliated. Mistake.
He snapped his neck my way. "What the fuck did you say?" My eyes rolled back in my head and I made a squealing noise and I'm not sure where it came from. I was near the front door, so I grabbed the handle and tried to open it but couldn't. I started laughing. "Get out of my house." My dad said as he chugged the rest of his beer and chucked the can at my head. It hit me, making me fall to the ground. I somehow twisted the doorknob open and crawled out onto the porch. Poking my head into the thorn bush, I puked. I was pissed about that because it meant I was losing my high. I was okay with it, because I wasn't able to purge earlier in the day. "You okay?" I heard a guy's voice standing in front of me ask. I assumed it was my dad. "Fuck you!" I said again. "Okay, okay."
I finally pulled my head from the bush and saw a guy standing in front of me with his hands in his pockets. I looked him up and down. He had a thin frame, blue skinny jeans, random indie-band t-shirt and multi-colored Chuck Taylor's. His hair was cut short in the back and longer in the front, giving him a side bangs that had blue streaks mixed in with his black hair. It was dark out, but I could still see his brightly colored blue-green eyes staring back at me. I tried to be cool so I stood up. But instead of being cool, I ended up being me. So, I fell against my door and slid back down and my head hit the gold doorknob on my way down. "Oh, God! Are you…" He cut himself off by running up to me and trying to help me off of the ground. He was interrupted by my dad opening the door and by my head falling back on the wooden floor. I laughed hysterically again.
"Who the hell are you?" My shirtless and tanned "dad" asked the pretty eyed boy on my porch. "I'm Josh. Live next door." He answered tersely. "Whoops!" I said as I rolled over onto my stomach and trying to stand up. "Are you drunk in my house?" My dad fussed. I finally got up and leaned against the doorframe, one leg in the house, one leg on the porch. I noticed that my light blue jean capris had a dark blood stain on the right knee. Oh well, I'll fix that later. I turned my head sideways and collected myself. "Dad, I've never had a drop of alcohol. I know your rules," I said with the straightest face possible. The pills were definitely fucking with me. My dad suddenly started growing Santa-like facial hair and I tried my damnedest not to laugh again. But because my dad was drunk, everything wasn't as it seemed.
He looked into my eyes for what felt like a few minutes and I didn't lose contact with him. After a while, Josh started to whistle. My dad looked at him and squinted his eyes. "Get off my property." He said. Josh backed up with his hands in the air. "Whatever you say, officer." How'd he know my dad was a cop? "Micah, house, now," I rolled my eyes and walked inside but stared at the boy still backing up off of our walkway. I smiled at him and he winked slightly before my dad slammed the door. Well, tonight was going to be fun. Good thing I'm already numb.