"Crap." I almost slipped as I stepped out of the elevator, attempting to tiptoe slyly even though it was uncalled for because there was no one there besides my almost trashed self and almost was just about the only word I could use as I yanked my shoes off and met the cool floor.
I was aware that my sister and the kids were probably fast asleep or she was waiting for me with the lights off like I was some teenager. Though honestly, I was sort of behaving like one, and I was well aware of how I needed to quit my weekly partying with Miranda and some of her friends. It was downright stupid and costly, and perhaps, even slightly irrational especially when I had to go to work the following day and with a torturously pounding devil of a headache, which was far from professional. The thing, however, was that it was a great deal of fun and I needed fun. I needed to flush down all my thoughts and forget things–be someone else.
It was a Friday night this time, at least, and I, a grown woman, unfortunately, residing with her sister, had decided to head home this time and had handed the cab driver the address and ended up having to swipe that access card over again with a few 'colorful' words leaving my lips. I didn't even know why I had decided to head home because it was embarrassing to be tiptoeing around and worried my sister was to have a fit. It was even the reason why I had been on the hunt for my place, I needed the privacy and I adored my baby nephews but hearing them crying or calling my sister 'Momma' did a number on me.
I usually stayed with one of the girls and had to get up early and did the whole shameful sneaking in and only got to be awarded the 'stare' by my sister and maybe we all were grown women with responsibilities but it was fun to pretend we hardly did, except when the hangover hit and I had to get Nicholas coffee and lie about the line being long.
I didn't know whether he believed me or not, but he never said anything or questioned me about it and I didn't concern myself further about it.
I did my job and well at that.
I licked my lips, shutting my eyes for a second.
One thing I didn't need here was my momma hearing about this. I may have been grown but to her, I was still the baby of the house and the lecture wasn't going to be soft and I respected her enough to not wish for her to be aware of my issues.
I was lonely, single, and probably depressed but there was no way I was going to no therapist or even getting the ladies at our church to pray for me, they had done that enough already. I didn't even want to acknowledge the half of the crap that filled my head daily, it was better to just ignore it for a little while, and then I was to return to it. To be honest, maybe depression wasn't the comfortable word and I didn't want to think about this stuff when I had downed a couple. It was best to just let it rest, perhaps it was to have its debut someday at that very moment I didn't think it was.
My shoulders slumped at that very thought as I sighed.
On a rare occasion, we went out for an early breakfast and tried to sneak a bloody mary in there, at least when I got a half-day because my boss had somewhere to go that I didn't know of and unlike the other two times he didn't tell me to reach him through that number he had given me in case of emergency, no. He, politely, told me to head home early and I never questioned it, at least not to his face that is. I just enjoyed spending time with Miranda, even when sober, and maybe that just distracted me from my questions.
I usually slept less and had to make do with a granola bar and aspirin. Luckily, I hadn't shown up to my job late and that was the upside. The downside was the guilt, unfortunately, that washed over me right after. And for so many reasons but three stood out for me–the church, my momma, and everybody. I hadn't thought about it for some time because I had been avoiding it, even more so recently and perhaps, not even just physically, and I was beginning to run out of excuses, and I didn't want to consider the factors that came to play when I drank or ultimately, the ones that led me to, surely all thoughts of the church would and down the drain would go my efforts and my hiding place would be no more–I would be raw.
I didn't wish to be so open, I was tired of the weight and the hurt, maybe I was tired of trying to convince myself in my head that I was okay when I was far from it. To Miranda, I tugged along to the different bars because I wasn't used to it.
I wasn't the type of young woman who had gotten the type of college experience that others had and that was the image I had carried throughout college, hence why I just sort of let go when I went out with Miranda. Though, I was sure she was somewhat aware of my reasons being deeper than I dared to mention and the weight of that was quite heavy and had plunged deep as often guilt did with me and made itself a home, deciding to jump on me once in a while and forced me to go hard with my drinks in the falsehood that alcohol gifted me with.
Certainly, I was meant to know better, it was true, and better was an option until I got there and the woman I hid behind a shell left me alone to shine and I pretty much did, unfortunately, getting lost in the liquor. I got 'fun' but not enough to regret the following morning, but what I did regret, awfully so, was being in front of my sister's door slightly bit past tipsy and barefoot. I was currently vigorously rummaging through my tiny leather handbag in search of the keys, with my shoes presently lying sadly on the floor, and the lighting here barely made it easy to see inside the bag and so I was fumbling around it blindly, though one would assume this miniature bag would make it easier to find a key. The thing made space for barely much, it was my phone, maybe some bubblegum, lipstick, and my keys.
"Really?" I almost rolled my eyes to the back of my head as I dropped my purse and spilled on contents and had to bend my knees and bring myself to the floor, quite carefully. It didn't last for long before my knees and mostly my legs gave out and they sort of buckled, maybe it was because of discomfort, or perhaps I was a bit more 'tipsy' than I had first presumed. I met the floor with my bum and with a slightly clumsy thud I sort of settled on the cold hard ground. I moistened my lips before they were met with my teeth as I led myself to my feet and hated the 'classy' body con which had clung to my body like a second skin the whole night. If I had been shy or uncomfortable about it I barely could remember. Maybe it was best to keep it so and perhaps ignorance was pretty much bliss.
I didn't have my keys. "Great."
I wanted to find a hole and crawl in it and never come out. It pretty much would cacoon my humiliation and would pretty much offer me a place to sleep so I wouldn't have to humiliate myself by knocking at this damn door.
I sort of facepalmed myself and perhaps just a tad bit too hard, but it barely mattered–I had to humble myself hard.
I sent the tips of my knuckles right against the door and had to do it several times before the door was yanked open and the light hit my face so hard it wasn't up to me to squint my eyes.
I felt her eyes before I could even lift my head and meet them. She had given my 'outfit' the once over and was probably going to have a lot to say, I just wanted a bed and needed those warranted few hours of sleep. I was a grown woman and I wanted to just grow a pair and own up to that, but my sister's eyes dug into mine so deep I cowered and wanted to kick myself for it. The worst was when she stepped aside and allowed me to walk in–I needed that hole to crawl into then.
"Is this a thing now?" Her voice made me halt my steps.
"What?" Maybe playing the dumb card was not the best of ideas but I hoped it would tire her out and she would leave me alone.
"You're an adult and I get it. You just don't live here by yourself," Karla said, folding her arms. Her long silk robe fell past her knees to almost touching her ankles and was wrapped tightly around her slim figure. "I have kids here."
Her hair that was once curly was tied on top of her head loosely and her beautiful oval-shaped face was bare of make-up. "I'll find a place to stay then."
"I'm not kicking you out," My older sister said, "I just–you're not a teenager and I'm not about to have this conversation then."
"What conversation? I'm not sleeping around or anything." I slightly shook my head that was adorned by quite the sleek and perhaps overdone bun. "Why do we need to have a conversation? I went out with friends."
"It's not. . .like you." There. My sister had said it and this was her issue. This was pretty much my issue as well and it made me grind my teeth so tightly that I was sure a vein was about to pop. I hated it, I hated how everyone knew me so well, and hence why I even went out this much, I preferred not to be reminded of it and everyone in my life always did all the time. I hated remembering and maybe just a bit, I hated myself so much.
Alcohol didn't care so much or even minded my 'unusual behavior', it took care of me in a way and that was a whole conversation itself.
I sighed, there was no point in dragging this conversation by saying anything like that, and to my older sister at that, I needed my lips shut–this was my issue."Fine."
I didn't even know what I was agreeing to, but I just had agreed to it.
I needed to sleep because she was probably going to drag me to the market tomorrow just so I could do something that was 'more like me' and that would make her comfortable. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs or pull my hair and say something else or better yet roll my eyes but it was all just things I would never do–it wasn't me.
I could never free myself from the woman I wanted nothing more than to run from, at least if I ran it wouldn't be so easy to find me, but I couldn't do a thing since everyone needed her so much–I disliked her.
I hated myself.