10/10/20XX Saturday
I'm freaking out. Alex is somehow the phantom relative of the Jeffersons I guess they somehow remembered? Like, who the heck forgets to tell a friend they had a cousin? To make things worse, the police came and wanted to talk about Mr. Brinesworth.
Rodrick answered the door. Rodrick's terrible with names. He once mixed up his "friends'" name and Dad's, and then got in huge trouble after Dad got a text that offered $50 for a few ounces. Even though he's starting to catch up on SAT's, I don't think his awful naming skills are gonna change.
Two policemen stood at the door. The first asked if he knew anything about Mr. Brinesworth. Rodrick's such an idiot. He forgot about the guy's name and then asked them, "Wait, wasn't that the dude who got hammered in our house last week?"
Knowing Rodrick, he actually meant hammered. Hammered until I cracked his head. Thank goodness the police thought Mr. Brinesworth was drunk. It was half true, though. He drank three bottles of wine before the sleeping pills took effect. Must've been near lethal, but Dad wouldn't take any chances. Mr. Brinesworth was a vet and probably would've beaten three of us in a fair fight. Even when drugged, he would've taken out Dad if he held the weapon. That's why Dad made me do it. I'm a wimp. Apparently, I wouldn't even look like a threat, according to him.
The police seemed okay with Rodrick's answer. I (tried) to push him away, since he would've accidentally leaked some more info. When he wouldn't budge, I just talked over him while the police asked more questions.
All in all, I did pretty great. They drove off without throwing either of us in the back. Rodrick thought otherwise. He said that it looked like I had something to hide when I talked louder over him, and that it'd be my fault if we got raided. I didn't believe him - Rodrick's been lying to me since I could understand words. The final straw was when he told me that Holly Hills was really into Boku no Pico a year ago. Let's just say that I take his words with a grain of salt, now.
At least the police were gone, for now. Alex was still on my mind. Why would Rowley pretend his other cousin didn't exist? He would've been the type to send me crappy pictures of them together. I wanted to visit Rowley's house to get some answers, but Dad's grounding had another 5 days to go. I couldn't even call him - Dad took out the phone lines and my SIM card for something that wasn't my fault.
I don't get how kids like Alex Aruda and Maddox Selsam can survive without video games. My pancreas gets fried after an hour of studying bio, but I've heard that Alex Aruda's taking 8 AP classes this year. Like, what? Maybe these braniacs are the lizard people's kids, wearing a junior skinsuit to hide in the crowds.
I worked on my drug trade project for an hour or so on the family laptop. I even went above and beyond the rubric and talked about the effects of drugs on people, even if Mr. Ottoman didn't deserve it. After that, I went to the kitchen to grab some chips for lunch. I couldn't believe what I saw next.
Manny was eating cereal without milk. First off, that's for idiots. People like Fregley eat cereal without milk. Manny wasn't even eating cereal. It was these Mentos-like things. But those weren't Mentos. They were pills. The pills hidden in the pantry. The pills with a so-called child-proof cap. The pills that Dad always crushed up in Manny's nightly "Hot Chocolate".
This was ridiculous. I knew Manny loved drinking the drugged chocolate, but I didn't know how much he really wanted it. The amount of benzos he was shoving in his mouth must've been enough to kill three of his classmates, and put the rest to sleep. The white pills that wouldn't fit in his mouth dropped and bounced on the floor.
I was in shock, really. That crap was something I'd expect to see in an edgy prank video. Only it was real. And Manny was gonna die from an overdose before he was old enough to take part in his first red ribbon rally, then cause CPS and the DEA to swarm us.
Some part of me wanted to let him sleep. We'd bury him in our backyard. Dad would lie and say Manny ran away just like our pet pig. We'd be talked to - again - by the police, but no one would think it was drug related. Because he was 5, after all. What 5 year old eats a years supply of sleeping pills for breakfast?
Thank goodness my rational side kicked in before Manny'd had another spoonful of Diazepam Flakes™. I lunged for the kitchen phone and called 911, then smacked the spoon and bowl off the table. Manny started crying, causing Dad to stomp down the stairs and bust in the kitchen like I was about to kill my brother. He looked at me, then Manny, then at the ceramic shards and pills scattered on the floor. There was no explaining that.
By the time the paramedics dragged a stretcher and their huge case of medical supplies into the kitchen, Manny was already out cold. His lips and fingers were turning blue, and I couldn't see him breathe. Dad and Rodrick were close to me, each looking anxious. Heck, I was too. It was a matter of time someone realized that Manny was addicted to drugs, then wonder how he got into the habit. And if Manny died. That, too.
Confession time: I don't really like Manny. Ever since he'd been born, Mom and Dad always coddled and spent time with him instead of me. He always got big toys for Christmas, and never got bullied because Mom would ground us if we did. That wasn't fair - Rodrick's been tormenting me for years, and no one did a thing. What's worse is the fact that he's smart. Maybe Alex Aruda smart, but for sure smarter than me and Rodrick combined. Once, he saved our hides on a road trip after speaking in fluent Spanish and got some Mexican guys to give us a ride after our car broke down. He's already gotten tested, and the school says Manny's the best they've ever seen. He's even taught by fifth grade teachers sometimes!
So, yeah, I'm a tad jealous of my little brother. It's not right that he gets to be the smart, cute, liked one in our family. And how he gets to be oblivious to the cartel. And how he never, ever had to smack someone dead with a hammer, because Dad sure as heck would've sheltered him from that.
Luckily, the paramedics didn't ask questions and just carried out Manny to the ambulance. Dad went with them. He ignored the looks from our neighbors and climbed in the back.
I'm surprised he didn't break down. First Mom, then Manny. To top it off, the doctors would find the drugs in Manny's bloodstream and turn to Dad.
What a crappy day.
I went back to the kitchen and flushed the pills down the sink, then I took a nap.
Congratulations to Guest for the first review of my magnum opus! I've peaked! Don't worry, there's more to come. It's going to get more intense after this.
xoxo trialtest
