Memories

Chapter 3

Ashtyn's POV:

"For fucks sake," I loudly cursed, when Jade rode off.

However, I had already gotten us into so much trouble already, that I pretty much had no other choice but to make up for it. If I hadn't wasted all our money busting me out of jail, then mum could've have had enough money to get treatment.

Also, Jade was usually always the one dealing with housework and preparing foods, so it was the least I could do.

Sighing, I got to work.

I remembered that the cloths were kept in a drawer in the kitchen, but I had forgotten which one. I guess that I would just have to search them all.

The first drawer I looked through was cutlery, but I gasped in surprise when I saw what was in the second one.

Weed.

No fucking way.

I opened the next drawer, and was even more shocked.

Bottles of cocaine were fully stocked inside.

Was this how our dad ended up in jail? Or, had he done things even worse?

I wondered what else he had been hiding from us all this time.

I opened the last one, and sighed in relief to find it was the cloths. 

Gathering the drugs, I took them to my room. I didn't want to hand them in, because they could be sold for good money, and we seriously need it right now. We take to take care of ourselves, with no help, but we didn't even have jobs yet. Hiding these was definitely more important than cleaning the dust in the house. 

If Jade found out about this, she would completely break down from everything that had been kept away from us, especially after all we went through. Our  mum's death had really shaken her up, even though she didn't really show it, but I knew her too well. Jade was the most sensitive person I knew. She always saw the best in people, and then ends up hurt when they betray her.

This was why I had trust issues.

As I entered my room, a wave of nostalgia washed over me, and I wished that we were that happy family we used to be.

My room was exactly how I felt it, with my posters of Oleksandr Usyk, Manny Pacquiao and Tom Brady. I was mortified with the posters of Scarlet Johansson, who I used to simp over, and talk to every night. However, ngl she was still so fine. 

I went took my guitar off the wall, and winced at how off tune it was, as I lightly brushed over the strings. 

Then I went to my action figure set, which I used to be so proud of. I had all the Avengers, and most of the Star Wars characters. I also had a bunch of lego which was my second favourite things in my room. There was a box of all the extra or smashed pieces of lego, that I would often accidentally tip over, and have to spend hours picking all of the pieces up.

I also had a small bookshelf of Roald Dahl books, that my dad would always read to me at night. Even though I grew past that age, it had become a tradition that was too sacred to break. 

But thinking about dad made me sick.

In my eyes, he had always been the strict, caring role model that I looked up to, and never would've suspected him of such things.

Anyways, I snapped back into reality at the thought of it, and stashed the drugs in one of my old shoeboxes that I also used to collect, and slid it to the very end of my bed. 

I still had a job to do, so I went straight back to work.

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