Page 137 of Rules

I can hear the key turn in the front door. Swearing, I run to the hallway just as the door opens and Josephine wobbles inside, turning on the light.

“What the hell did you do?!” I yell, pointing my trembling finger at her. I’m so angry, I could strangle her with my bare hands. “Tell me this is some crazy break in and you didn’t have anything to do with it…”

“Brookie.” She giggles, actuallygiggles, her hands reaching for me like she’s about to hug me. I take a step away, getting out of her reach. Her dark eyes are glassy, pupils dilated.

My heart starts to sink before she even opens her mouth. Because I know. Deep down inside, I knew before she even got home, but I wanted to hold on to what little was left of my love for her.

Pathetic.

“Tell me you didn’t do it!” I yell. “Tell me!”

All the dreams, all the hope I was harboring of a new life… I can see it scatter away like pieces of broken glass dispersed by the wind. Gone.

My knees give out on me, and I tumble to the ground right in front of the woman who gave birth to me.

My rise and my fall.

Josephine’s soft footsteps move closer. “I needed the money.”

“What did you do with it?” My question is a barely audible whisper. Deflated and broken, there is no strength left in me to fight. “Did you give it to Dan?”

If all is lost, I’ll at least have the comfort of knowing I’m safe, my friends are safe…

“Not exactly…”

A lump forms into a stone, and it falls to the pit of my stomach.

“You spent it all on drugs, didn’t you?” I ask, frantic laughter breaking out of me. At first, it's slow, but then it starts building until I can’t contain it anymore. Loud, almost hysterical. “You spent it all on your next fix, not even stopping to think of paying the debt you owe. The debt that will end with both of our bodies thrown in some ditch! For fuck’s sake, Josephine!”

I stand up on my wobbly legs, shoving her away when she tries to reach for me. If she touches me, I’m done. I’ll break, and what little sanity I have left will be gone. I can’t break. Not yet.

Something falls on the floor, my eyes zeroing on it. A baggie of white powder.

“You’ll never change, will you?” I scream, squatting down to reach it. “You’ll always be a selfish bitch who acts before she thinks, and when she does think, it’s always you, you and more you!”

Running my free hand through my wild, loose hair, I push it out of my face. I look at the apartment that I’ve lived in for as long as I can remember. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this. If I stay here, there will be nothing except darkness and despair. And I’m done. Done with listening to Josephine bitching. Done with cleaning the mess she makes. The mess she pulls me into whether I want it or not.

Doing a full circle, I face my mother again. She was half a woman my whole life, but now she is nothing. Skin, bones, and narcotics running through her system. For a long time, a part of me—as little as it might be—wanted to believe there was hope, but now I see how wrong I was. There is no saving Josephine Taylor, and I am done trying.

My eyes fall down, looking at the bag in my hands. “I’m done.”

She must hear something in my voice, a resolution maybe, because her eyes grow wide. “Brook…”

Turning on my heels, I go straight to the bathroom.

“Brook!” Josephine yells after me, but I’m faster. As soon as I’m in the small, crumpled space, I tear into the bag, watching the white dust fall in the toilet. “NO!”

Her boney hands push me away, making me stumble on my feet, my face crashing into the cabinet. Pain spreads through my cheekbone, but it’s nothing compared to the emotional anguish that’s swirling inside of me.

“No, no, no!” she chants, trying, actuallytrying, to grab the powder out of the toilet, not even sparing me a glance.

I flush the toilet, watching despair grow on her face. “It’s all gone now, and there is no getting it back.”

Just like me.

Turning on the balls of my feet, I go back to the mess that is my room. Grabbing an old duffle bag, I snatch up everything my hand touches without giving it a proper look and shove it inside until the bag is full. Then I do the same with my backpack. I have no idea what I put inside; nor do I have it in me to care.

Ready, I take both bags in my hand and, without looking back, leave the room.

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