Brielle

forty

Turning the door handle to the door, I open it, the fresh smell of alcohol running through my nose. Reminding me of a dark time I don't want to go back too.

I drag my bags inside, Ben told me if anything was left in Brielle's room he'd give it to me in school. Seeing as she refused to let me in the room.

She knew I was moving out, and I bet she was happy. Happy that she doesn't have to tip toe around the house anymore, looking around corners to make sure I'm not there.

Is seeing me really that bad?

I guess so.

Closing the door behind me, I don't mind being quiet. If leaving the door unlocked bothered her she wouldn't have done it anyway. She's probably had many people walk inside here and steal shit.

Seeing as we're in the richer sides of the neighbourhood, it's more prone to thefts. A new story comes out every week when someone's favourite jewellery gets stolen.

"Who's there?" I hear the voice from the kitchen, scratchy and slurring. It sounds as though nails are being dragged across a chalk board.

Deafening.

"Just me," I say, walking round the corner and into the kitchen where she stands. Holding a cigarette and a bottle of vodka.

She holds it likes it's her baby, her purse, her prized possession. Something me and Sofia never were.

"Oh you," Lucia seethes, her brown eyes narrowing in on me. Her hand lifts the bottle of vodka, pushing it in the air as some falls out of the top.

"Cheers to you coming home!" She laughs, like a freakish, psychopath.

My teeth grit as my jaw clenches, trying to hide the emotions running through me. I've spent the last week drowning in them, I could use at least I day were I don't feel anything.

And here I thought that today would be that day.

My eyes run around the kitchen, taking in the once marble, minimal surfaces. Something Bee would love if she moved in here.

But that was before she started her addiction again, and bottles clamped up everywhere and white powder being left in the middle of counters. Something that could be mistaken for sugar.

Lucia hit me after that.

I was only seven.

"So why are you here?" She begins, sucking in the cigarette making her thin cheeks hollow. The botox filling in the wrong places, making her look like a knock off barbie.

"Weren't you staying with that girl?"

My heart speeds up at the sound of her saying that girl, the girl that was once mine.

"The one you threatened me over? Said if I said anything I'll make you regret la da da, honey I already regret giving birth to you," She laughs again, the sound cold and rude.

"I regret a lot of things," Mum sighs, looking out the window. I can tell she's referring to Sofia, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't piss me the fuck off.