There is nothing more beautiful than watching an innocent angel fall apart at my sinful actions. I'm going to ruin her.
"Augustine."
And she comes, looking down at me as she does so.
She glows, lighting up the goddamn room. Her feet barely touch t...
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I slip my phone back into my jeans pocket, feeling better after apologizing. The cool breeze nips at my skin, and I shiver. Emilio is still walking behind me, and I'm just listening to what he has to say about me.
"I think we should take you to a doctor, Amorette," he says.
Oh my goodness.
"Why do I need to go to a doctor, 'Milio?" I rub my arms, "Enlighten me."
"You just get upset so quick, and you don't know how to control your emotions," he comes up beside me, "Maybe we could get you a therapist."
I'm offended, but then I realize that's the reason he might be right.
"Therapy is expensive, Emilio. We don't have money for that."
You and dad don't have money for that.
"And you're the bipolar one," I huff, "Speaking of that, have you checked on when you can get your prescription updated?"
Now who's in trouble?
He's silent, and then he throws an arm over my shoulder. "Yeah."
I glance up at him, immediately knowing he's lying.
We hear a car coming, but just when we turn to look, it slows as it passes us. It's an old car, but the windows are too dark to see into it.
"What the hell?" I whisper, tugging on Emilio's jacket. He lifts his shirt, showing whoever is in the car the gun tucked in his waistband.
Oh, great.
The car speeds up after seeing that my brother is armed, and they turn without stopping at the stop sign.
Makes sense.
"Hurry inside, Amorette," he nudges me.
I notice we're approaching the house, so I start walking faster.
"Can you put the stirfry from last night in the microwave for dinner, please?" I ask him nicely as we get inside, needing to check something for myself.
"Sure," he nods, walking into the kitchen as I make my way to the bathroom.
I look back into the hallway before shutting the door. Ignoring my rough appearance in the mirror, I open the cabinet where we keep medicines and first-aid things. My eyes land on a few orange bottles, knowing that one of them is my father's anti-depressants, and one is for my low iron disorder. Then I see the one set to the side, and I grab it. My brother's name is printed on it, and it explains the dosage under that. He's supposed to be taking one every day for 3 months, and it's only been a month and a half.
The bottle is empty. And I know damn well he hasn't gotten it refilled.
My heart sinks, and I almost want to ignore that I just saw this. I don't want to fight with him. I don't want to start things, but this is serious.
