Love Me When I'm Unlovable

Chapter 13: Rita

Four years ago...

Bang. Bang.

I glance at the window and sigh. I take a long look at my brother's sleeping form next to me. I take a deep breath and pull the curtains. The soft city lights waft in the pitch-black room.

My sister's form is unconscious outside the window. I shut the door, watching my brother. Asher was nine. It wasn't his fault Hannah partied and got drunk. He didn't understand those things. I made sure of it. I slide my blanket on top of him and open the window slowly, the cold air stinging my face.

Hannah was still unconscious. Good. I dragged her, limb by limb inside. It usually took only thirty minutes, but it took nearly an hour this time. She was already halfway awake. Crap.

I clamp a hand over her mouth, watching Asher. I hadn't been hiding Hannah's partying for this long to let her wake him up now.

Hannah watches me with a weird intensity.

I clamp Hannah into a headlock, my hand over her mouth, and drag her out of the den my then-foster parents called our bedroom.

Hannah stumbles after me, tripping over her own feet.

This is the girl who stayed up with you every night for three months, I remind myself. It's the only way I make it through the night without dunking her head in the toilet and leaving her there.

I shut and lock the door and flick on the lights, releasing my hand over her mouth.

"Ritaaaaa," Hannah hangs off of my leg.

"Oh, my God," I sigh, looking at the ceiling. "How drunk did you get this time?"

"Is that you, Mommy?" Hannah asks, looking up at me with big eyes.

"Don't you dare say that again," I growl, shaking her off. "Mom was amazing. I have no clue how she birthed your sorry drunk ass. Say her name like that again, and I will end you."

"I love you, Mommy," Hannah says, snuggling up closer to me.

I shove her away and stuff toilet paper in her mouth. I open the cabinet under the sink and grab the duct tape and melatonin I keep in the bin of nail polish. I'm the only one who uses nail polish, so it seemed like the ideal place. I cut a piece and stuck it on the edge of the counter.

I turn back to Hannah, who's mumbling like a moron and staring at the wall. I snap on latex gloves and fish the toilet paper out of her mouth. God, I hate this part.

She smiles at me like a psychopath. I resist the urge to break her teeth as I tilt her head back. I tune out her words, trying to focus on the task at hand. I was used to it. The things she said when she was drunk either made me want to cry or punch her. Neither was a good idea at two in the morning.

I tilted her head back and squeezed a dropper full of melatonin into her mouth.

"It's cocaine," I lie. "Swallow." If I tell her it's sleeping medicine to get her to sleep and not wake up Asher, she won't take it. But she'll take it if I tell her it's coke or marijuana. Dont ask me why.

Hannah swallows easily, and I slap the duct tape over her mouth.

"Rita?" I hear Asher's quiet, sleepy voice waft down from the hall. Crap.

I finish duct-taping Hannah's wrists together and step out in the hallway, careful not to let Asher see inside. I flick off the lights.

"Hey, Bud," I say quietly. "What are you doing up?"

"I woke up," Asher says. "And you weren't there. So I went to find you."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I apologize, ruffling his bedhead. "I didn't mean to worry you."