The Choice (a Painful Past)

41

"Why didn't you text me back?" Colby exclaimed, sounding worried.

"Huh?" I asked, furrowing my brow in confusion. "Didn't I?"

"No, you definitely did NOT! You asked if I was grounded and I told you no, then you never texted back. I thought you might've gotten hurt or been throwing up or something!" He exclaimed.

"Okay, dial it down." I grumbled, as I rubbed my temple with one hand. "Still have a headache over here. And, you worry too damn much, Colby. So what if I was throwing up? What would you even be able to do about that? Even Superman couldn't stop that."

"Yeah, well, maybe not, but I could've taken care of you until you were feeling better. Brought you some saltines or something, I don't know." He said, with his annoyance shining through.

I couldn't help it. I laughed. One short bark of laughter, before I whimpered and grabbed my head.

"Ow, shit." I whined, and giggled at the same time.

"Why is that funny?" He asked, clearly still annoyed.

"Because I have a hangover Colby. I'm not sick." I replied, as I took another drag of my cigarette.

I blew the dusty smoke out and watched it dance in the sunlight streaming through my window.

It was still too damn bright, but not as bright as before.

"Plus, my stomach is fine, or it was before you sent your little funny text. It's not the first time that I've had a hangover."

I thought back to the couple of times this past year that I had drank too much. It was always when Will and I had friends over here, because I was always the designated driver any other time. Of course I was, though.

Will still didn't have his license, or a car. Hopefully, that would change when he turned 18 in a couple of months, and I could maybe have some fun without worrying so much about doing the driving. Hell, I didn't even like to smoke weed much, when I had to drive.

Thankfully, I had a job that didn't drug test me, so I could still smoke, if I wanted to. Being a waitress was a lot harder than I had originally thought. Plus, you got paid crumbs. Literal crumbs.

In my small town, working at a franchise breakfast restaurant, I was paid $3.00 an hour, plus tips. I worked second shift though, so I was lucky if I got 10 to 15 bucks a day. Since Will didn't have a job yet, all of that money went into the Electricity Fund.

Now, this was just one of those large manila envelopes, where I kept all of the money needed for me to pay our electricity bill. Anything left over after the bill was paid, went towards cigarettes, weed, then household essentials, if there was enough. Food wasn't a huge issue, because I was still on government help.

We went without a lot.

Those were what I considered the "dark times."

When Will didn't have something to ease his anxiety or help him to deal with reality, then he got angry.

I tended to avoid him on those days.

I hadn't realized just how bad my anxiety was, until the "dark times."

He would take his anger and frustration out on me, and I let him. I was trying to be a good girlfriend, but sometimes, it was just too much. I couldn't take the yelling and the attitudes, the derogatory comments, or when he tried to goad me into an argument.

It wasn't bad all the time, though. We had more good times, than bad. He was so sweet and loving, usually.

He gave me massages when I had a bad day. He would cook dinner for me and bring me my plate, and he made sure the house was clean, and my clothes were washed. We didn't have much money, so I didn't want expensive gifts or anything, but he bought me a single blue rose for Valentine's Day.

Since blue was my favorite color, I immediately fell in love with it. I pressed it in between the pages of a book to dry out, so that I could keep it forever. I smiled thinking about it.

So, he made a mistake.

Everyone deserves a second chance, right? We could work through it and get past this.

I called my mom to talk to her for a little while. She always made me feel better. We talked about how she was doing and how my aunt was doing.

My aunt was not in good shape, but she was holding on to life, like a bulldog with a bone. At this time, my mom was 57, but she was still going, like she was 20. Hell, I think the woman was in better shape than I was.

"Did you hear about Charles's kids?" She asked me.

Charles was my oldest brother. He had his first kid at 16, a year after I was born, and now he was married with 3 of them.

"No ma'am." I replied.

I didn't really talk to them much anymore. I used to hang out with my nieces all the time, but then they started doing drugs, like ecstasy and acid.

That was a little much for me, so I stopped going to see them.

"Well, you know Michelle's baby, Ben?"

"Yes ma'am." I replied, smiling at the thought of the little blonde boy, that my niece had when she was 12.

Waaaaay too young to have a kid, but it happened.

"He's about 5 years old now, I think." She said.

I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. I knew he had just turned 5, because I adored the kid. Every time I had went to see them, he attached to me like glue.

Even though I wasn't really a kid type of person, this kid was different. His blue eyes and chubby cheeks never failed to make me smile. Just seeing him lifted my mood.

I missed him.

"Well, Michelle went to that jail for kids, because she got caught with some kind of drugs. They said that she was selling them. God, I pray for those kids every night. I don't know how they got turned onto that mess." Mom sighed.

I felt the same way. My brother was a good dad. He worked every single day so that they could have what they needed, and most of what they wanted.

My sister-in-law worked while they were in school, but she was home every afternoon to greet them when they got off the bus. They didn't have a bad childhood.

"You mean she's in Juvie. Honestly, Mom, I think it's just the people that they started hanging out with. That, and their cousins on Darlene's side. You know she has two siblings that are on crack." I replied.