R.E.M Sleep

1 - Happy Birthday

I currently stood in front of my mirror, inspecting the red wine stain on my dress. The stain was large enough to see and large enough for my dad to scold me for underage drinking.

I was innocent in the whole ordeal. My grandma believed it would be a great idea to get into the alcohol cabinet even when her doctor said that more drinking could cause more health problems. I was surprised that she followed through with her doctor's advice and decided to stop while ahead. But I guessed I praised her too early.

I didn't expect that the wine bottle would be placed at the edge of the shelf, so when we opened the cabinet it fell and broke on the counter, spilling the Merlot onto both of us. My baby blue dress was wet and sticky from the wine, drops dripping on the hardwood floor. I looked at grandma in annoyance, but she was already bustling around the kitchen, looking for towels to clean the mess. She agreed to clean up the mess while I would find a new dress. One thing about her, she was scared of my dad's opinion of her unhealthy lifestyle, but more afraid of getting lectured about it.

"Sienna!"

The sound of my dad's voice echoed through the house, forcing me to step away from my thoughts. I looked back at my locked bedroom door and walked towards it. I unlocked it and peeked out my head. Over the stair railing I saw my dad fussing over my grandma, picking up the wine bottle glass that had shattered all over the floor. I guess grandma wasn't quick to clean up the mess after all.

"Sienna!" He yelled again while glaring at grandma who was sitting in front of him, rolling her eyes.

I pulled back and quickly closed my bedroom door. I found a brown cashmere sweater and blue jeans in my closet to put on. I pulled on the sweater and shimmied inside of the jeans before I swiftly assessed myself in the mirror again.

Good as it gets.

I stepped away from the mirror and left my room. As I got closer to the kitchen, I could hear the exasperation in my dad's voice as he threatened to call grandma's doctor on her.

"Now, Henry, you know I didn't even drink a drop of that wine," my grandma responded.

There was a percent chance that she would've drunk it if it didn't shatter on the floor. She's been drinking for as long as I remembered. Despite her slight alcoholism, as a 60-year-old, she looks like she's in her 40s. No wrinkles or gray hair. Regardless if she dyes it or not.

And my dad...he's an accountant. If you can picture what an account looks like, then that's him. Lean, slicked-back hair, and glasses. No matter how frail grandma looks, she always used to cook a whole buffet and force my dad to eat. It never showed on him.

Dad waved the house phone in his hand back and forth, menacingly. "Ma, you need to listen to your doctors. You have a bad heart. And you're not helping yourself with the smoking and the drinking."

Grandma scoffed. "I haven't had a sip of alcohol for three weeks."

Dad gestured to the shards of glass in the dustpan that he swept up.

She shrugged. "It was only a little temptation. You shouldn't put wine on display for all of your guests. Especially a sober one."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looked up the stairs. "Sienna! This is the third time I've called you and you still—" he turned around to find me watching behind a corner.