Medea Haley // D4 // done

”Listen doctor Langdon, I know you only mean well but I cross my heart hope to die that I am not an addict, I just like to occasionally abuse a substance or two…I swear it is not that deep”

Ugh people liked to throw a fit just because I knew how to have a good time. That’s just who I am, the life of the party, so what I liked to have a little bit of fun. It’s not like anyone ever died from a pick me up line of coke or happy little amphetamine pill…actually scratch that, people totes have but like that is soooo not my style.

Mumsie and Daddy needed to cut me a break and I thought they did when they sent me on a “wellness trip” turns out that was just code for rehab. The actual audacity! I think they said something along the lines of wasted potential but that just sounds like a cop out for we can’t parent our child. Guess that’s their thing, toss money at anything they don’t like and close their eyes until it pulls a disappearing act.

”Miss Haley, are you with me? I was offering you a chance to stay longer, to actually go into therapy and maybe find the root of the problem”

I rolled my eyes as I leaned back into the chair and kicked my feet up on the table. Who had time for therapy at my age. I had entire world to see, well an entire district really, the last thing I wanted was to be locked up here talking about my feelings. Boring. That is also what I would end up being if I stayed, all my trauma of Mumsie and Daddy not loving me enough had to be good for something.

I lived to entertain.

”Honestly, I would rather fail to blow my brains out and remain a cripple the rest of my life before I stayed a second longer here with you discussing my feelings”

That word sent chills down my spine. All the lil bitches of the world spent too much time sitting in circles talking about how someone who looked at them the wrong way made them want to shrivel up and die. Seriously sometimes I think suicide is just part of natural selection and for christ sake humanity would be better off without those pansies.

”You know I can’t help you if you do not want to be helped.”

Yes. I fucking know that. And no. I do not want to be helped. Why should I be? There was nothing wrong with me (according to myself). I did my 3 weeks’ time; todays drug screening must have come back clean. I was a good girl who followed the rules while she was here and did her time. Now my parents could say that they really tried to be good parents. I am almost certain that the whole charade was to protect their image and my wellbeing was never of that much of a great concern.

”So we are done here?” the rhetorical questioned hung shallow in the air as I stood up. Don’t you worry, I said my goodbyes, if there is one thing my parents taught me then it was good manners.

”People like you always find their way back until they accept they have a problem” the doctor calls out as I open the door to his office.

I turn my head over my left shoulder, my right arm already pulling the door wider open for my grand escape. ”Oh I am counting on it”, I reply with a small laugh accompanying the devils touch found in my eyes. I knew my parents, if they were not content with the results then they would keep throwing money at it until it went away.

A silent promise was written between my lips. As long as they refused to be actual parents, I would refuse to actually listen. I had a new family, the ones that let me do as I please, the ones that lived from anarchy and strived for imperfection. There were no rules to be followed and no one had to belong to anyone.

A place where the waves crashed against the coast in beautiful violence. Women would sing their charming songs and rob the men of what they have all for the small price of their undevoted attention.

”I’ll see you fuckers in six weeks! Third time’s the charm or something like that”I call out behind me as the doors to the rehab center and started to make my way to the edge of civilization. I’m sure I’ll remember to give my parents a call when I get to the Kraken’s cove….probably.

***

I pushed open the wooden door to the tavern and let it swing back and forth as I made my (not so) grand entrance into my pseudo-home.

”Did y’all miss me?” I asked real sweet before sitting down at the bar. I started swinging the chair back and forth getting slightly impatient with Adriana as she took her darn time pouring me a pint of my favorite beer.

”It was peaceful without your screeching voice waking me up every morning trying to combat the hangover with another drink” Adriana’s daughter mumbled from the corner where she seemed to be working on some kind of schoolwork. Say what you would like about the owner of the tavern but at least she seemed to have her daughter somewhat in check. Mumsie and Daddy could really learn a thing or two from her.

”Behave yourself Circe, otherwise I’ll drag you down to the clinic with me next time I go”, she just rolled her eyes and focused back on whatever arithmetic or fancy educational bullshit she was working on. God, how conceited she was. Really did not appreciate the mother she was given; I would have killed to have Adriana in charge of my upbringing!

The dark beer had finally found its way to my spot and the first sip of freedom tasted better than sex. Who knows maybe I’ll enjoy getting sober every now and then just to have that very first taste as many times as I possibly could. The second and the third sip were less and less satisfying, the rush of it all had gone by the fourth and then the fifth started to taste like every single day.

There was no excitement left in the drink.

”Anyone know where Pietro is? A girl needs to celebrate her sobriety in style.” I asked the small round of patrons that were already beginning their daily downfall at noon. A lot of shrugs and mumbles before Adriana had perked her head up from her guitar. ”No one has seen him in months, he’s been gone a lot longer than you have been.”

Asshole. The one time I really needed to see him, and he was no where to be found. I guess I would just have to find someone else ready to provide the party favors.

”Take a break from your homework, Circe. Play me a song. I am in the mood to dance” I demanded from the little girl, her mom reenforcing my request by handing her the guitar. In one giant gulp, I down my drink as if my life had depended on it and began to sway to the melody.

Arms out wide as I twirled around in my newfound freedom.