CHAPTER EIGHT

Vodka Rocks

 

Elsea laid across her bed, head hanging off of the edge, hovering over a trash can. She had snuck a fifth of vodka into the house, and the bottle was almost gone. She had been doing it since she was a teenager. It was the only way that she could face most of her days. She’d heard her sister and her mother talking about her last night, and she couldn’t bring herself to face them.

The past few days seemed to blur together. Elsea felt only a pit in her stomach and could barely bring herself to move. The room smelled. She had been sweating out alcohol, and she hadn’t showered since yesterday. There was nothing but silence from Peter since she’d walked out before the wedding, and it made her feel worse.

“I don’t want her at my party, Mom,” she heard her sister say.

Her mother didn’t want her there, either, but in her own way she didn’t talk about her as harshly that day as Hannah did. Hannah’s graduation party was tonight, and Elsea knew that she wasn’t welcome. The plan was to stay in her room. Just her and her vodka. Her sister’s law-school boyfriend was staying at the house, but Elsea had yet to lay eyes on him, even before the wedding. She assumed that they had hidden him away from her, not wanting the black sheep of the family destroying their image of suburban perfection. Perfection. For Elsea, there was no such thing.

I should have done it, she thought. I should have gone through with the wedding.

The sting of regret overrode the numbness gifted to her by the vodka. Even though her life wouldn’t have been what she wanted, it couldn’t have been worse than what she was experiencing staying in her parents’ house. She was kept around for appearances’ sake and nothing more, and the thought was a knife to the stomach. The first time she made a decision on her own, and it was the worst one she could have made, driven by hurt and confusion and an underlying desire to have power over her life. But she couldn’t maintain it. Whatever it was inside of her, pushing her to get out of the situation, just wasn’t powerful enough.

She could hear the guests trickling into the house. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and neighbors, all there to celebrate Hannah, their goddess. The smart sister. The pretty sister. The sister who was going to go out and change the world. Elsea almost vomited thinking about it. The light in the room nauseated her even more, so she turned off the lamp next to her bed and laid in the dark. Her legs were restless, and she felt that she would black out soon.

As she laid in the dark, the noise, the excitement that was going on downstairs, was too much to handle. She heard all of their voices congratulating Hannah, telling her that she looked beautiful, telling her how handsome her boyfriend was, and Elsea’s anger grew. She reached over to grab a pillow to cover her ears so she wouldn’t have to hear any more, but it didn’t help. It just made her hot.

She was tired of taking the back seat to everyone, especially Hannah. As she thought more about that feeling, a fleeting feeling of power rose inside of her, that feeling she’d had just before she walked out of the church. The feeling she’d had when she chased down Peter’s lover. Her thoughts of hate toward Hannah kept feeding it, until finally it boiled over.

She raised herself up out of the bed and staggered over to the bedroom door. Opening the door was a challenge in itself, and the hallway looked as if it stretched on for miles. She stepped out and began to stagger down the hallway. Inching down the hall, she clung to the wall to help support herself, until she reached the stairs. When she looked up, she was there, standing at the top of the steps, looking over everyone in the family room and everyone looking back up at her.

Hannah’s smile turned into a scowl. Rolling her eyes, she turned, looking at her mother and father. There was Rhema standing next to her husband with a grin across her face. She pointed at Rhema and winked.

“You! You saved my life,” she said before stumbling. She took hold of the banister before she fell and continued her descent down the stairs. At least someone was proud of her, even if it wasn’t her own flesh and blood. Elsea felt like she was on a roller coaster with each step she took down. When she made it to the bottom, she walked over to the food table and grabbed one of the sandwiches and stuffed it into her mouth. She was so hungry. She hadn’t eaten all day. Pieces of sandwich fell from her mouth as she ate.

“Mom!” Hannah yelled.

Elsea turned around and walked toward Hannah. She stood next to a tall, handsome young man who she assumed was the boyfriend.

“You must be the little shit that my sister is sucking off.”

The whole crowd gasped.

“What?” Elsea asked, looking around. “I hope you’re not buying all of this virginal crap. I mean, look at her.” Elsea grabbed a piece of Hannah’s long blonde hair, then flicked it. Hannah smacked her hand away.

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled. “Why do you always have to ruin everything?”

Elsea extended her arms in order to embrace her. “Poor baby … Did I just ruin your day? Here, come here. Rest your troubled, pretty little head right here,” she said, tapping her breast.

Hannah burst into tears and ran from the room.

“What a wimp. Congratulations, by the way,” Elsea yelled as Hannah ran off in the opposite direction.

The boyfriend looked at Elsea, baffled, before he took off after Hannah, followed by her mother.

Elsea’s father came up to her and grabbed her by the arm.

“I apologize, everyone. She hasn’t had her medication today.”

Elsea looked at him, confused, as he dragged her by the arm and back up the stairs. She didn’t take medication. She was just drunk, but she knew that her father would say whatever he could to save face in front of all those people.

He tossed her in her room.

“After Christmas is over, it’s time for you to find your own place. You have two weeks.” He slammed the door and went back downstairs. Then Elsea blacked out.