Glowing Eyes || Adopted by Josh Dun

the news

Apparently, 'not enough money in the world' could bail my brother out. My mom still held a grudge against me for it, and on top of everything, she got fired from another job. As to be expected, she was extremely harsh on me the last few weeks.

Good news was, I finally had a place to escape to. I would sneak out to the coffee shop every night, where Josh would buy me coffee (after arguing with me over it for about a week). Once his shift was over at midnight, we would talk about nothing in particular for an hour or two.

It was a nice way to spend the first few weeks of summer. It was a good distraction, too. A great distraction. Only problem was not getting caught out of the house. When my mom found me gone, she lost it. She'd throw things, scream, break anything and everything, including me if need be. In short, it's the worst adult temper-tantrum you've ever seen.

I wouldn't stop leaving, though. A spared bruise wasn't worth staying with my mother all day. Actually, with the way she was, it might've been a bruise or two prevented. My brother knew that, too. He was convinced that if he stayed in that house for too long he'd become like the kids that come from abusive families and turn into monsters. If there's one thing my brother did have the determination to do, it was making sure our mom didn't turn him into someone he wouldn't turn into by himself.

Granted, my brother wasn't exactly the best example, but he had a point. So I started leaving the house more and more, for longer and longer. I would grab some things and walk through the city from ten pm until noon. Then until one. Then until two.

And here I am now. Standing in front of my apartment door at seven p.m. I rocked back and forth on my heels, a nervous habit of mine, as I stared at that dirty wooden door. The TV was blaring inside, so I knew my mom was home. She was going to be pissed, no, furious.

I took a deep breath and whispered, "It's going to be fine," before opening the door.

Practically as soon as I stepped in the door was slammed behind me and a hand yanked me by my hair. I screamed out, trying to pry the fingers off of my head.

"Where the hell were you?!" my mother screamed. I flinched at the sound of her voice. Oh god, she was really mad this time. She pulled me by my hair to bring my face to hers, before screaming again, "Answer me!" That's when I smelled it. Alcohol. Lots of it.

My mom was drunk, insanely drunk. She got even worse when she drank. How long had she been drinking? How much? "I was walking around," I winced out.

She finally let go of me, her green eyes landing firmly on mine. She pointed a not-so coordinated finger out at me, "Out? You were out all fucking day? Someone needs to teach little girls like you a lesson."

She flung the empty beer bottle in her hand at me, and, surprisingly, it hit target. I gasped as the glass hit my in the head, shattering around me.

I stumbled and my back hit the wall behind me. The world seemed blurry and slow as my mom screamed slurred words and hit whatever she could. This was so much worse than before. I had to get out of here and fast.

I ducked away from my mom's spastic motions and made a bolt for the fire escape. I unlocked the window and flung it open as my mom grabbed at my jacket. I let her pull it off of my shoulders and ran down the rusting fire escape. I struggled for breath and willed myself not to fall four stories down as I flew across stairs and ladders that cut at my callused hands. I was unbelievably dizzy.

My worn shoes finally hit concrete, and I bolted. My feet knew exactly where to go.

•••••••

When I finally got to the coffee shop, I had to brace myself on the doorframe of the place. I was dizzy, and everything hurt. Everything was on fire. I gasped in and out. Finally, words surfaced from the muddled buzzing registering in my ears. "Lynn? Lynn, holy crap, are you okay?"