Eva
I'm still finishing my homework when my mom calls from the kitchen.
"Dinner will be ready soon and it's great. I know you'll love it, I made it especially for you".
Judging by the clatter of spoons, utensils, everything literally- she's been drinking for a while now.
My mother always spends hours in the kitchen when she enters the role of the Chef, using the time to get drunk, the action masked as her attempts at being a housewife. The thought makes me snort. I sometimes hate my dad for leaving, but then I probably understand him- I wouldn't want to be part of this whole mess either. Something drops, breaks and she curses and that's it for me- I just can't stand it anymore. Whatever. I type a quick message to Nathan. Recently he's been the first person I think of when somethi
