Austin
862 Words
I didn't sleep much at all last night, I kept thinking about how Bradly fired Derek. And Bradly, the way he held my face. What was that all about? I thought to myself.
The next morning I hear the front door open, I get up from my bed and look to see who it is. It's just Austin my dad. I can tell he's been getting high again. I haven't seen him in about a week, and I can smell what I can only describe as death as soon as he walks in. I watch him as he makes his way slowly to his room. Thank god I paid the rent earlier today when I got paid. Even though that was all I had. I've been saving that money for months so that I can move out when I turn eighteen in a few months. Everything is okay though, even though right now it all sucks.
A few moments later I hear Austin walking towards my room. "Oh wow, you cleaned." he looks around my room, his eyes are bloodshot, it looks like he lost fifteen pounds since I last saw him. His blue jeans were covered in dirt and grime. His white t-shirt has holes in it, and the collar is torn, His black hair is matted, I look at him and chuckle "Yea, it was getting pretty bad." I exclaimed. "It looks good, you hungry?" he asks. "Yea, I could eat." I respond. I know he isn't the perfect dad but sometimes every once in a while he will get clean, want to eat, and has money to pay for it. I just hope he stays clean this time.
I hop in his white pick up truck, and we head toward the local diner. We wait for the host to seat us. She shows us to a booth, and we take our seats. The host hands us our menus, Her frame is thin, her fingernails are freshly manicured and painted the color of red wine. Her lips are the same color, her long blonde hair is tied in a braid and hanging over one shoulder. "Can I get ya'll somethin' to drink?" She asks, her southern accent thick. "Just a coffee for me please." I respond back "Yes, me too" my Austin chimes in.
Within a few moments later she comes back with our black coffees. "Alright, here are your coffees and you waiter will be here in just a moment." She then turns away from us and heads back to the kitchen. Not too long after the waiter shows up to our table. He has a muscular build brown shaggy hair, and green eyes. "Are ya'll ready to order?" He asks as he pulls out his order pad and pen. His big frame leaning up against my part of the booth. "May I please have the avocado toast and eggs?" I ask. "And I will have the pancake special." Austin responds to the waiter. "Sure thing, we'll have that right out." He turns away and starts to head back to the kitchen. About twenty minutes later the waiter comes back with our food. Austin and I make small talk, mostly he just asks me questions about work and how school is going. I would be going to school more if I didn't have to work all the time, so that I can pay bills. But I set that aside for now, I am too tired to confront him right now about it. We continue to shovel in our food, Austin ends up paying the bill and I leave the tip.
We head out of the diner and the air has a nice spring breeze and you can smell the flowers that are near by. I'm still in my sweats from the night before, I didn't feel like getting all ready just to go to a diner. I hop back into the pick up and we take off back to the trailer house. As we reach the it I look at my phone to see the time it reads 7:30 am. It's a nice Saturday morning, the flowers that I planted in an attempt to make the house look nicer are starting to bloom in their pots at the bottom of the worn out, rustic wooden stairs. I scoot myself off of my tethered passenger seat, open the rustic metal white door of the truck, and jump out. Austin starts down the pavement toward the trailer. It's an old red trailer with missing paint in different spots, it has what use to look like white trim around the windows, and a white rustic metal frame for the bottom.
I take a deep breath of the morning air, look down and notice that the dew is still painted onto the grass. It is getting tall again, which means Austin will mow. At least I don't have to do it. I start to climb the old stairs and make it to the front door. As I creak open the door I see Derek standing right in the living room looking at my books. He hears the door open and turn towards me.
- Writer
