“Where’s the food?” Grandpa yells as I busy myself in the kitchen. “You want us all to starve, is that it?”
“I just got back from school.”
“Yeah, yeah. Always late. Always with that boy, what’s his name. The faggot. Always knew there was something wrong with you both.”
“I’m not… what the hell are you talking about? Nate and me, we’re friends.”
“I’m old, not stupid. And look at this place. All filthy. Do you even wash your hands after touching his dick? This is disgusting.”
“God, stop.” I drop the dishes on the table and storm out of the kitchen. “Make your own damn food.”
“I’m paying for everything, boy,” he yells after
me. “For the food, for the apartment, for the clothes on your back. You think you get to walk out of here just like that? Get back here.”
“I don’t care.”
“Della is coming to eat. Won’t you have any food for her? And me, an old man. You’ll let me starve? Always unreliable. Almost getting your sister killed once wasn’t enough. Now you want to get rid of me too.”
I stop halfway through the living room, my fists clenching. “I was only a bit late.”
“Like you were a bit late that day? Almost too late.”
I freeze, turn around to look at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You know very well what I’m talking about.” He jabs his big, bony finger at me. “You know what you did.”
Yeah, I do. But still I fight it, fight the guilt, the fear. “I was just a kid.”
“You were old enough!”
“I didn’t know what to do. And you left us in that filthy place to die.”
Vomit, piss, rats crawling over my legs, roaches running on the walls, over us.
“You were supposed to call me if she wasn’t well. You wanted her dead, didn’t you?” He sneers, his wrinkles deepening around his mouth, like cracks. “So you could have all my attention. Little bastard.”
“God. Fuck. I didn’t.” Black dots spangle my vision. “You know I didn’t.”
“Liar.” He spits at me. The spittle lands on the carpet at my feet. “Well, I’m going out to eat. You’d better do something about all this filth you’re sitting in.”
The moment he’s out of the apartment, I stagger into the bathroom and throw up. Then I grab the torn rubber gloves, the bleach and the brush and get to work.
This place is dirty. It will always be dirty in my mind.
Just like me.
Nate isn’t at school again today. Though it’s nothing strange anymore, him missing classes like he doesn’t care. He won’t answer my calls or texts either.
We were supposed to study for a test together, and last thing I want is to go home and face my grandfather or my sister who came back home only to tell me I’m such a fucking disappointment and leave again with her friends.
Which only got Grandpa even more furious at me. Apparently, her roaming the streets with her friends instead of keeping down a job is all my fucking fault.
The past week has been hell, and I’m done.
So this is what I blame for what I’m about to do. I mean, fuck this. Fuck Nate. I’m all out of patience today.
Pulling out my ring of keys, I find the spare key Nate gave me years ago and pray the lock is still the same.