Six Feet Under

chapter four

 [ 09/11/2015, Greene Mansion, 0100 ]

The door creaked as it opened, and Adelaide winced almost comically before she almost swayed into the wall. She dropped her heels onto the floor with a loud clatter and took another drag from her flask.

u sur u don t wamna stau o ver???? Her phone dinged.

The world was spinning around and around, and she felt fuzzy. Is this what mermaids felt like underwater?

nah. Her thumbs fumbled on the screen twice before she managed to type out the word, and she giggled.

She leaned too hard against the door and it slammed shut with a loud bang. She winced again.

Another door opened upstairs, and footsteps echoed softly on the floor before a figure clad in white leaned over the balcony overlooking the foyer.

"Adelaide, what time do you call this?"

She squinted at the grandfather clock in the foyer.

"One!' She grinned, putting her hands on her hips before adding as an afterthought. "AM."

"And by God, what the hell are you wearing?" Cecile's hands tightened briefly on the railing, her knuckles turning white.

"A dress." Adelaide looked up challengingly, taking another deep drag from her flask and feeling the alcohol burn down her throat. "A very, very short dress."

"I can see that," Cecile said icily. "Go to your room."

"I'm not five!"

"Then stop acting like it, Adelaide." She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "Why can't you be more like Madison?"

Adelaide saw red all over, the alcohol loosening her tongue and fueling the fire of her rage. "More like Madison? What exactly do you mean by that?"

She hiccuped.

"Crazy?" She swayed again, and steadied herself with the wall. The world spun around her. "Not right in the head? For all her perfection, Cecile, you forget she's a fucking psycho."

"Madison this, Madison that!" Adelaide raised a shaking finger and jabbed it accusingly at Cecile. "You've always liked her better than me! She's not even your daughter!"

Cecile opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off abruptly.

"No! Don't you dare open that mouth and talk more about perfect Madison!" Adelaide nearly screeched. "I will scream if I hear one more word about what an angel that bitch is!"

"Adelaide!" Cecile slammed her hands on the railing, and she hoped giddily that it hurt. "Pourquoi êtes-vous comme ceci? Je vous ai élevé pour être meilleur que ceci!"

"I don't speak French, remember?" Adelaide stumbled towards the stairs; she was getting sick of yelling up and of Cecile yelling down. "Again, that's Madison. Magical Madison, everything you do is amazing, Madison!"

"I miss Dad! I missed how he didn't fall for her bullshit act. How do you love her, Cecile, knowing what she is?"

"Madison is getting better!" Cecile inhaled sharply. "The therapist said so!"

"I'm not drunk enough for this conversation," Adelaide snapped.

"You are plenty drunk," she countered, before pointing down the hall. "Go to bed, Adelaide. We'll talk tomorrow."

"No, fuck you, we'll talk now!"

Cecile looked hurt, she noted with satisfaction.

"I'm sorry you feel this way, mon amour. But you see, Madison deserves our.. our pitié. Her maman died when she was very young, Adelaide, and even when she was alive she wasn't much of a good maman."