redefine | calum hood

one

One

Maddie

"You're a fucking asshole," I heard my brother Zach yell from downstairs.

"Fuck you," my other brother, Nate, spat, then there was a loud crash. I sighed as I grabbed my phone, putting on my earbuds to finish up school. This essay was already hard enough, and screaming and fighting didn't help me focus on Moby Dick. Taylor Swift blasted through my earbuds as I continued to type away until there was a louder crash, then cursing in pain. I turned off my music, pulled out my earbuds, then ran down and saw Zack on the ground holding his wrist in pain as Nate was in the kitchen, chugging yet another beer.

"What happened?" I was shocked at the scene, but also not. It wasn't surprising, but I also needed a normal night for once.

"The fucking asshole broke my wrist," Zach snapped, looking at Nate.

"You deserve it," Nate shrugged.

"Stop," I demanded and helped Zach up. "You need to go to the hospital,"

"We're fucking drunk, we can't just drive to a hospital," he rolled his eyes.

"Then I guess we're walking," I shrugged. I went upstairs, grabbing my jacket and my school bag with my laptop. Already at age fourteen I was basically a parent, the only one responsible enough to help them. "You stay here, you're even more drunk than him," I demanded from Nate, who ignored me. I left with Zach and we walked blocks down to the hospital. Once we made it there, I helped him check in. "He hurt his wrist," I explained to the front desk person.

"Can I see the insurance card?" he questioned. I nodded and grabbed the wallet where I kept the cards, then handed it to him. He raised an eyebrow and looked at me.

"You carry it?"

"I don't lose things, he does," I shrugged. The guy nodded and started to fill out the information, then gave me paperwork to fill out. We both sat down in the waiting room, which was pretty empty. "Zach, whisper your social security number to me," I quietly said.

"I'll say it out loud, I don't give a shit," Zach said, a lot louder than I would prefer. I quickly covered his mouth and gave him a serious look.

"Please, just be quiet. We are in public and I don't need you to be kicked out right now," I whispered harshly.

"My wrist fucking hurts," he mumbled after he told me the numbers.

"We'll get it fixed, just chill," I said with a hum. Once the paperwork was filled out, I gave it back to the front desk and took a seat. "Can you please do your best to be sober?" I quietly begged as we waited to be called back.

"I am sober,"

"You are far from sober, whatever you had is finally kicking in,"

"Can we go to some bars after?" he questioned, making me roll my eyes.

"I'm not 21, no," I shook my head, "plus you need to rest," I reminded him and he groaned.

"But I want to go out and party," he groaned. "We can find you a boyfriend, or girlfriend, I don;t judge," he said and I rolled my eyes.

"Again, I'm fourteen," I reminded him.

"Only seven years," he shrugged, making my eyebrows furrow.

"Ok, gross," I scoffed, "I'm going to hope you are saying that because you're drunk," I shook off the comment. Luckily, we were called back to get Zach checked out.