It hasn’t felt like home in a long time, but it does today. It feels like it always used to, when I woke up to the smell of biscuits and bacon, when Dad woke me up every morning with a gentle shake and then drove me to school, or to a friend’s house, or to the barn… wherever I wanted.
It feels safe again.
The first thing I do when I get home is go to the bathroom and flush all my cocaine down the toilet. Joey watches me intently, but says nothing. Once I finish, I close and lock my windows and close the curtains. Next, I plug in my night light. It’s never been enough to keep away the nightmares, but every little bit helps. Then I curl into bed.
He stands there for a few minutes, and I close my eyes, but I can’t quite doze off without him, so I ask quietly, “Are you coming?”
So he curls
