Madison let herself into her parents home with a key; it slid into the lock silently and turned without resistance. The door swung open, creaking slightly on its rusty hinges. Madison cringed at the noise, which in the quiet kitchen seemed so loud, looking around to see if it had woken anyone up. When no one appeared, Madison let out the breath she had been holding and shut the door.
It was bitterly cold in the night outside; the heat of the house swelled around Madison, who remained strangely cold. She shivered involuntarily, pulling her bulky sweater closer to her body. She set her purse on the counter near the door and carefully laid her keys down with it. Again, she glanced around, but there was still no one there. She sighed with relief, some tension draining from her as her shoulders slumped. Taking a deep breath, she made her way to her step-father's study.
The study was down the hall, past the bathroom and the linen closet. Her parents were sleeping in the master bedroom at the head of the hall, so she walked lightly, completely bypassing the creaky boards so that no sound was made. Madison reached the door and opened it, going inside and shutting the door softly behind her. Once in the study, Madison did not turn on a light; she dared not reveal her presence in this house due to past experiences; besides, she was able to navigate the room in the semi darkness, using only the dim light from the window. Madison walked behind the desk and knelt, using her hands to grope around underneath it. After a moment, she found what she was looking for.
The bottle of whiskey was a brand she did not care for; it was too harsh and hard to swallow. Madison cringed as stood, bottle in hand. Cradling the bottle closely to her chest, she made her way out of the study and into the hall.
"Madison?" Her step-father's voice sounded surprised and disdainful. Before turning around, Madison stuffed the bottle of whiskey under her sweater and took a deep breath. Her step-father held a glass of water in one hand, two small white pills in the other. Madison smiled sweetly, using her free hand to push her hair behind her hair.
"Rich. Feeling ill?" Madison tried to sound concerned, knowing she sounded false even in her own ears.
"Feeling ill?" He mocked her, sneering. "What are you doing here so late? Need money?"
"I don't come home just to get money," Madison said, trying to hide her apprehensiveness. The bottle was getting heavy, making her fingers tremble to bear its weight. It could slip at any moment, and Madison was more than ready to leave.
"Then why are you here, Maddie?" Rich sneered again, his tone condescending to the extreme. He knew she hated that nickname; that is why he liked using it so much to address her.
"I just wanted to be here for awhile. You know, feeling close to Mom and all that." Madison knew her lie was as transparent as Ziploc baggies, but her mind was buzzing guiltily. "I wanted to be warm."
"Filthy little liar," he snarled, suddenly moving forward, going past her. "Go home or where ever the hell you go." he pushed her aside with one hand and she felt into the wall. Her free hand stopped her body from reeling, but the bottle slipped precariously out of her hands. As Rich stalked into the master bedroom and shut the door firmly behind him, the bottle left Madison's hand completely.
"No!" She said under her breath, moving her legs so that the bottle was safely caught between her thigh and the wall. Carefully, she bent over and took the whiskey bottle in both of her hands. She stood up straight, and with a quick glance down the hall, she went back to the kitchen. After picking up her things, Madison hurriedly left the stiflingly warm house without bothering to lock the door behind her. The biting night air was a welcome sensation as it cascaded over her face.
Madison could see her breath float eerily up past her face as she walked quickly to her car. Once inside, she turned the heat all the way up, making the hot air blast through the tiny automobile. Before leaving, Madison carefully laid the whiskey bottle in the passenger seat, placing her purse on top of it. Without a second glance, she left her parents' house and drove off into the night.
She knew exactly where she was going. She tried to pretend that she didn't, that when she got there she'd be surprised. Madison liked to fool herself in little ways, because somehow, when the little things seemed good, the bigger things seemed less daunting. And she did not want any problems, not tonight. Tonight was a night for her to forget, for her to clear her mind and make believe she was okay.