by Mallory Funk
With that, he leaves. I get up and make sure that I have what I need before I leave.
I don’t bother saying anything to anyone because I’m sure that they all heard.
My president pretty much said clean up or get out.
I went and fucked things up with my mom and with Camilla.
When I glance at my phone, I see all the messages that I sent her.
I silently curse and try to dial her number, but I’m automatically cut off.
Fuck. She blocked me; I just know it. Whatever happened, it was bad.
I head home since I’m not ready to face my mom, and head straight to the shower.
It doesn’t help when I can’t remember what I did or said, but fuck I need to find out.
Once I get out of the shower, I call my brother. He picks up, but the icy greeting has me cursing myself.
“Brother.”
“What did I do?” I ask.
“To mom, or to Camilla?” he says coldly.
I close my eyes. “Both.”
He proceeds to tell me everything that I said to my mom and Camilla. He was in his room with Olivia since Ella took the kids for the night and they spent the night at the club.
I’m an asshole.
Fuck.
Once he explains, he hangs up without giving me a chance to say anything.
How did this become my life?
I do what I do best and grab a bottle off the counter.
My life’s fucked already.
What more could happen?
Everyone already fucking hates me anyways.
I hiss at the burn as I swallow a mouthful.
There is no better time than this to forget everything.
If I’m lucky, I won’t remember this either.
Chapter Eleven
Tyson “Torch”
One week later…
I barely remember the last week. It was all a drunken haze.
I locked my doors and shut out the world.
There is something different about this morning though.
Usually I wake up in my bed, couch, or kitchen floor, but I feel cold air on my face.
The mornings are a bit chilly here this time of year.
I have no clue what woke me up yet.
Then, I hear a soft, innocent voice which has me closing my eyes in shame.
“Uncle, are you dead?” my nephew Hale asks.
I can’t believe my nephew is here. Why would he be at my house?
I open my eyes and cringe at the brightness of the sun. Fuck.
“Hale? What are you doing here, buddy?” I say in a raspy voice as my mouth is dry as fuck.
“What do you mean? I always play here before lunch time,” he says innocently.
I lift my head and look around in confusion.
I see my brother Steal’s house. Hale starts playing beside me. Olivia is getting Star settled in a play area in their backyard.
I scratch my head as I sit up. What the fuck am I doing here?
When Olivia turns to look for what I’m assuming is Hale, she spots me on the ground and her mouth turns down into a frown. I can see the disapproval on her face.
I feel shame wash over me. Fuck, I never wanted anyone to see me like this, and I can’t believe I’m in their backyard. I have no clue how I got here.
She stays away from me and doesn’t bother saying anything in greeting and I don’t blame her at all.
“Sorry buddy, I don’t know how I got here,” I say getting up to a sitting position. Hale takes a seat beside me.
“I thought that maybe you were here to play with me since you don’t come over anymore,” he says. I wince.
Yeah, no matter how much I tried to visit my nephews and niece sober, it doesn’t happen as much as it used to. I fucking hate it, but being around them all happy and innocent, not knowing what a fucked up place this world is, messes with my head more than I care to admit.
“I’m sorry, bud. I’ll try harder, okay?” I say.
He looks at me with a frown. “You say that all the time.”
I can’t help but wince at his admission. Fuck.
“Mommy says you’re sad and that’s why you are always gone. Are you sad because Aunt Stacey is gone?” he asks. He’s too young to realize that he’s breaking my heart with his innocence.
I nod my head since I can’t seem to form any words.
He nods his head back like he expected it.
“I miss her too,” he says quietly.
Then he looks at me with the most thoughtful expression I have ever seen.
“But you want to know what mama told me?” he asks. I sit there and wait for his answer.
“Aunt Stacey is always with us. She will always be in here.” He points to his chest and I feel the tears welling in my eyes. “Mama said that if I ever needed to talk to Aunt Stacey that she will visit me in my dreams so that I can talk to her. That way, she can tell me that everything will be okay,” he says.
I feel the breath leave my lungs and I try to show the effect his words had on me.
“Your mom is a smart lady,” I rasp out with my voice breaking.
He nods happily at that, but he’s not done tearing out my heart because the next words he says to me with a frown have it breaking for a different reason.
“Do you not come around anymore because you don’t love me anymore?”
I feel completely shocked and I feel the tears fall from my face as I grab Hale into my arms and hug him like I never want to let go.
“No… No… No buddy. I could never stop loving you. I’ll try to be better. I promise. I miss her so much, but that’s no excuse to keep hurting the people I love.”
He nods his head as I hug him.
Once I release him, he gets up and smiles at me.
“Time to clean up, uncle. You stink,” he says as he runs away.
I can’t help but wince at the smell of myself.
Olivia comes over to me once Hale starts playing with his sister.
For once, the look of pity in her eyes doesn’t fill me with anger. I’m filled with nothing but regret and shame right now.
“Oliv-" I start, but she cuts me off and there’s anger in her gaze.
“No. Enough is enough,” she says harshly.
She looks over her shoulder to make sure the kids aren’t in hearing distance. Then turns her glare back on me.
“When are you going to see that you are hurting everyone around you? First your mom and dad, then Camilla. Then you call your brother in the middle of the night and complain about how pathetic you have become. I get it, you are hurting, but the alcohol isn’t medicine and it’s ruining your life and your relationships with everyone around you. Showing up here passed out in my yard where my kids can see is not ok. I’ve tried to be understanding, but I don’t think I can anymore,” she says and her eyes turn sad.
I nod my head and drop my chin to my chest. “I know. I’m fucked up, but my nephew asking me if I stopped coming because I don’t love him is the final straw. I’m sorry. I need to go. Clear my head. Take care of the family. I need to take care of me for a change,” I say and she slightly smiles at me.
“You can do this,” she says with a soft smile and I nod my head.
I sure as fuck hope so.
I leave my brother’s house and walk home since it seems that I had walked here in the first place. We don’t live too far from each other anyway.
Once I make it to my house, I have a shower and lay on my bed to think about everything that’s happened since I lost Stacey.
I have come to rely on alcohol to erase the memories and numb the pain. Stacey would have fucking hated that. She was never one to drink when she was upset and I knew that she would not approve.
I rub a hand over my face and let out a curse.
“I can’t keep living like this,” I say to the empty room.
Silence greets me and for once it’s not comforting.
I still need to do right by my mom and dad
. I haven’t seen them since Stacey’s memorial, and I have to admit that I am ashamed of the way that I talked to my mom. It was not okay no matter how much I was hurting.
Then there is Camilla. There was so much I fucked up with her and, when I found out everything I had said to her, I knew I was a grade-A fucking asshole.
She’s important to me which fucking scares me, but that still wasn’t a good enough reason to talk to her the way that I did.
What really fucking guts me is my conversation with Hale.
Someone so young and innocent should never have to deal with issues like this. He shouldn’t have to see, let alone wake up, his uncle passed out drunk in his backyard. No matter what.
How could the kid think that I don’t love him?
It really puts into perspective what a shitty person I have become when my own nephew had to question that. The others are still young, so I know that they would wonder too if they were able to voice their feelings.
I need help.
I needed it a long time ago.
I think it’s about time that I get it.
I fall asleep brainstorming how I could change my ways. For the first time in a long time, I fall asleep sober.
“Tyson, baby,” I hear a soft voice murmur close to me.
I turn around quickly. It has been forever since I heard that sweet sound.
“Stacey,” I say with tears welling in my eyes. My voice breaks when I say her name.
“This isn’t you,” she says with a look of disappointment. Fuck, I hate that I am the reason that she looks like that.
“I know, but I feel like I can’t breathe without you,” I say forcing out the words.
She stands there in front of me giving me a sad smile. She looks even more beautiful than I remember.
“You need to fix your life. This isn’t how I want you to live. You know this,” she says.
I nod my head.
“Fuck, why did you have to be taken from me?” I rasp out and pull her into my arms.
She wraps her arms around me, and I swear that I even breathe in her scent.
“To make room for someone else,” she says with a sad smile.
“Please Tyson, let yourself be happy. I want you to live your life again.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I rasp out.
“Yes you can, my love. Let yourself be happy. It’s okay to be happy,” she says.
Before I know it, before I am ready, she pulls out of my arms and walks away.
I feel myself yell and call out for her, but no sound leaves me.
She turns back around one last time and smiles.
“I love you,” she says before she disappears.
I wake up with a start. I sit up fast, gasping for breath. Sweat is dripping off of my body.
Fuck. Instinctively, I get up and walk to the kitchen where I know a bottle of something is there.
I grab the bottle and uncap it but, as soon as I bring it to my lips, I stop myself.
Fuck. What am I doing?
As much as it hurt to dream of Stacey, this is not how I want to live. This is not who I thought I would become.
I take a deep breath and turn the bottle over in the sink.
I close my eyes as I hear the liquid pour down the drain.
This is the right thing.
I need to do this.
Once the bottle is empty, I sit at the kitchen table.
I can tell that this isn’t going to be easy already.
Everyone is right. I’m hiding from my emotions and now I need help to face them.
I grab my laptop and phone and get to work.
I know what I need to do next.
~
Hours later, I’m showered, dressed, and have a bag packed.
I called my father as soon as I knew that he would be awake to tell him that I wanted to see him and my mother.
They didn’t sound too pleased, but they came.
I open the door before they get off my dad’s bike.
They both eye my bag.
“What’s going on, son? Are you taking off again? What makes you think it will help? It didn’t help last time,” dad says as he walks up to me and crosses his arms over his chest.
My mom looks like she wants to cry already. Fuck.
“This is different,” I say.
I gesture for them to sit on the porch so that I can say what I’m about to say to them.
“I need you both to be quiet until I finish what I’m about to say,” I tell them.
They both eye me for a moment before nodding their heads.
“Alright. Well here goes nothing…” I say as I take a deep breath. I hope to have their support on what I am about to do.
“I am going to a treatment clinic. I know that I can’t do this on my own, and I need the help that they can give me. I also needed to talk to someone because I fought my feelings of grief for so long that I don’t know how to move on. I can’t keep hurting the people I love and I need to get away from here and away from the memories so that I can recover. I can’t ride my bike anymore because I don’t spend any days sober. The only time I’m not drinking, I’m with the kids but then it’s not very long. I tried to be sober during the day, but then my days just got shorter and I picked up a glass of whisky sooner. Hell, sometimes I didn’t bother with a glass and drank from the bottle. Maybe someone will be able to help me with the messed up shit in my head. I’m alive but I’m not living anymore. I’m nothing more than a ghost. I can now see what I’m doing wrong and this is how I can start fixing it.”
They sit there staring at me for a long moment.
I shift back and forth nervously.
My mom clears her throat first.
“I think that is a great idea, Tyson. I’m really proud of you for doing this on your own. This is a big step,” she says softly and gets up to hug me. I hear her sniffling against my chest.
“I love you and we will be right here waiting for you when you get back,” she says. I hug her tightly to me and look over her head at my dad who nods his head in approval.
“We are here for you, son. Whatever you need. It is time that you fix you.”
I nod my head at him.
“Alright. Well, can you give this to Camilla? I know it’s not much, but I can’t leave without an explanation to her on where I am going. Even if she doesn’t care after how I acted. Also, I will need a ride there. They are expecting me in a couple hours,” I say as I hand my mom an envelope to hand to Camilla.
I’m hoping that once I come home, I can talk to her and get her to forgive me.
I have a lot of people to make everything up to for the last few months.
It all seemed fine when I was just hurting myself, but then I started hurting everyone with my words and actions.
This isn’t going to be easy.
Chapter Twelve
Camilla
Three months later…
I let out a yawn as I get home from the therapist. I throw my keys in the bowl beside the door. I had started driving myself weeks ago. When I got back from the clubhouse, I was devastated. My parents and brother were all asleep when I got back so they didn’t know about the little trip that I had taken.
I decided to work every day at spending a few minutes outside by myself. At first, it started with little walks that I barely made out of the driveway; but soon I was walking into town and, once I was comfortable enough to do that, I started driving myself to the gym and therapist.
Not long after I was at the club, I received a visit from Lily and Derek. They had said that they wanted to check up on me, but the second that Lily gave me a letter from Tyson, I knew the real reason.
They had explained that he had reached a breaking point and was now getting help for his drinking and grief.
I was happy for him for that and hoped that it would help him, but I was still hurt by everything that had happened. All the hurtful words he had said.
