Haze

Introduction

You’d think I’d get used to it by now. I close the living room door and slowly turn the knob. Was she breathing? Is all I thought as I waited patiently for the kettle to boil in the kitchen. The steam rising to the ceiling like my internal rage does up my neck. You couldn’t tell. I was worried. I’ve only been up two minutes, i haven’t even woken up.

‘Friday, all week nothing and Friday.’ I muttered to myself. I’ve had a week off from this. I almost forgot the reality of what happens in this house when I’ve had the last joint of the night. I rub my temples, the gangover is strong, I must’ve had at least three fat ones. The state of that vision, she must’ve had at least three large bottles. Her choice is red, mine is green. One legal with a wide choice in Tesco, the other gets doors booted in.

I scan the kitchen and it’s just as I left it. Half a joint in the ashtray, next to half a cuppa of Yorkshires best. No bottles. They’d be in the washing machine. I open the glass door, move the towel I threw In their last night and I was right, two are hiding right there. Not a drop left in either.

I couldn’t enjoy my strong sweet gangover cure without at least checking properly. Two bottles cleanly finished wouldn’t put my mother where she is. It was always the third. Third times the charm, or can’t get passed the third tread on the stairs so stumbles back to the living room. She’s had a few falls over the years, and laminate floor is unforgiving on a middle aged lady with a decade on the drink.

I open the door and step inside. I take a sip of my sweet tea and watch my mother slowly take a breath and exhale. An empty bottle sits upright on the marble hearth. A half-filled wine glass with a dozen cigarettes in a plate ashtray are next to it. She lays there with just her dressing gown sitting in her own piss. Check over, she’s alive. The vision leaves me as I shut the door, the smells follow up to my bedroom. Cuppa in a firmly clenched hand, I look to the clock and it has gone five. By the time I finish this cuppa, I would perform some mental gymnastics and forget it happened. You couldn’t tell how I started my morning, I made sure of it.

It’s got the point of being so familiar with this routine that I know at least the next hour will be peaceful. Just stay quiet and don’t wake her and you’ll walk out the door like nothing happened. Always be worse, I could be Justin.

*

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‘Wake up Lucy, it’s time for school.’ Said Justin quietly, rocking his little sister until she lifts her chin above her cocoon and winces.

‘No, can’t be.’

‘Come on, you don’t want to be late, I might have to drop you off.’

‘No, rather catch the bus with my friends.’ Said Lucy in a huff.

‘Hurry up then, I’ve made your cereal.’

‘It will get soggy.’ Muttered Lucy, whining.

‘You’ve got a minute before they get soggy.’ Said Justin leaving his sisters room to the kitchen.

He takes two bowls and puts cornflakes in each. He hears his sister moving. He needs to be quick, otherwise his tactic of forcing Lucy out of bed without dragging won’t work again.

He finishes pouring milk into one and starts the second as Lucy bounces through the door. ‘Oi, you didn’t even put milk in?’

‘I did, I’m just topping mine off now, now shhhh.’ Said Justin putting his fingers to his lips. Lucy jolts with fear and snaps out of her excitement. She was always chirpy in the morning, it was the long day at school and a longer evening at home that’ll break her strong spirit. She’d hide in her cocoon, leave tears on her sheets and emerge every morning fresh to start it all over again.

‘Your bus leaves in twenty so don’t be shy, eat up.’ Said Justin leaving the kitchen and opening an adjacent door to the living room. He opens it slightly.

‘Oi, you, give me some money.’ Screeched a voice and Justin slams the door, followed by something hitting the door. It was usually a slipper, always the slipper.

‘Sorry, I’m sorry.’ Said Lucy sulking into her breakfast.

‘Not your fault, hurry up before she starts wondering about.’ Said Justin putting his hand on Lucys shoulder. She looks up and smiles.

‘Ok.’ Said Lucy taking a spoonful and crunching.

It was her fault. She’s old enough to know thinks Justin. He can’t be hard on her though, she has enough of that when he’s not around. He checks his back pocket and feels for a small wrap of foil. It’s the emergency foil blanket to shield his little sister from his mother’s nitty fire. He can hear her stirring. She wants her fix and knows if she wants it for free all she has to do is get to Justin before Lucy leaves for school.

‘Fuck sake.’ Said Justin hearing his mother’s footsteps on the laminated floor. He knows what she wants, and he knows she’d want to cook up in the kitchen with the hob. She wouldn’t care about Lucy’s breakfast and would probably take the spoon from her bowl, use it and then give it back.

‘Open the door you bastard.’ Screeched his mother. Justin holds the door handle and pulls the door close to the jam.

‘Finish your breakfast and get changed, I’ll take you mcdonalds instead.’ Said Justin and Lucy jumps up and runs to her room, closing the door behind her.

‘Give us five minutes and I’ll leave it on the table, Lucy’s just getting changed.’

‘Fuck off, open the door you bastard.’

‘Hurry up lucy and head downstairs.’

‘Just putting my shoes on.’ Screamed Lucy almost out of breath.

‘Wait.’ Said Justin banging on the door. There was just silence returned. He decries another day of this shit. He’d leave, would’ve left years ago if it wasn’t for lucy. He was gone for two years and his sister must’ve lost two stone. He’s been out three months and just managed to put it back on her. He’s a carer for one and a supplier the other. He’s stuck. Takes his sister out and his mom would phone the police, again. He has no rights, only right to return, on conditions of supply as demanded. It’s his life, a life he chose to at least give his sister a better chance than him.