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Kaci Watts

Rebecca Morean

English 1201 515

19 April 2020

The Effect of Addiction and Chemical Dependency in the United States: Short Story

The air hits my skin like a splash of cold water. My eyes are heavy as I stumble up the

carpeted stairs of my home. Incoherent words fall from my chapped lips once my feet make it to

the second floor. “Tonya?” My mom enters the dim hallway. My vision is blurry, and I lean

against the cool wall.

“H-Heyyy ma..” She gulps. It almost looks like there’s another person beside her, but I

know that it’s just my vision. A sigh of disappointment escapes her lips before she grabs onto my

arms. She pulls me away from the safety of the wall and leads me to my bedroom. Grunts and

gurgles erupt from my throat.

“Baby, what have you done?” She whispers sadly and lays me down on my bed after

entering the room. My clothes and other items are strewn across the floor and furniture from my

scramble to leave the house earlier. She pulls my boots off my feet and tosses them on the

ground to be with the other miscellaneous items inhabiting it. I coo rolling onto my side facing

my mom. She’s perched on the edge of my mattress. “How many times do I have to drag you to

bed after you come home high off your butt until you realize you have a problem?” Her eyes are

glassy and sorrowful.

“Uhm..m’not high-” I argue pathetically. Her wrinkly fingers brush the brown strands of

hair from my face. My mind isn’t in the condition to even argue with her. Her eyes observe our

surroundings. The same look of disappointment crosses her face again. I’m not sure what I can
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say to make her feel any better. I know I have an issue, but I can deal with it. I’m fine. I’m not

hurting anybody else. Nobody is suffering from my habit.

“Don’t lie to me, Tonya. Sleep it off, we’re going to have a talk in the morning,” and with

that she leaves my side. She gives me one last stoic look before flicking the light switch off and

closing the door. My eyes flutter closed, and my body feels as if I’m floating.

Time skip to the morning...

Streams of sunlight cause me to let out a groan. My eyes open and instantly close from

the bright light. What happened last night? My limbs feel as heavy as stone. How much did I

take last night? God, the room is spinning.

“Tonya! Breakfast!”

“What the hell?” I grumble under my breath. I sit up against the headboard. My body is

still adorned in the clothing from last night. I smell like sweat, alcohol, drugs, and possibly sex?

I’m not too sure. I don’t exactly remember what happened. I scoot off the sheets and strip my

body of the disgusting clothing. I grab sweats and an oversized t-shirt from the floor and pull

them on.

“Tonya, did you hear me?!” I roll my eyes.

“Yes, ma! I’m coming!” She doesn’t ever think about how hungover I am in the

mornings, it’s ridiculous. I bet she put me to bed last night and is wanting to talk about how I’m

going to change my life. Why do I need to change it? I’m doing fine, I have a roof over my head

and I’m not dead. You’d think she’d be happy about that. I’m the problem child of the family.

My dad and mom have always had issues with me. Whether it be my “bad” behavior or

shenanigans. I was always and I mean always doing wrong. There was no way to escape it. My

brother is a successful lawyer and my sister is a doctor, but here I am. The loser sister, who can’t
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hold a job and pops pills by the minute. Speaking of which, I hunch over to snatch my “fun box”

from under my bed.

A yellow smiley face sticker taunts me on the lid of the black, wooden box. I open it and

take the orange medicine bottle out from underneath a few papers and a pack of cigarettes. You

could say I have a problem, but I think I don’t. I can quit whenever I please, I just choose to

enjoy my life doing things that make me feel good. I’d call it a habit at the very least. I pop the

lid open revealing the white tablets of oxycontin. Tipping the bottle over, three tablets fall in my

palm. I used to take only one, but I’ve discovered that doesn’t quite work anymore. I pop them

inside my mouth and pick up a water bottle from the floor to swallow them. This is the best way

to start my morning. The only good way, I’d say. I close the bottle and shove it back inside the

box and push it underneath my bed.

I jump up on my feet and step over items to exit my room. I close the wood door behind

me and trudge down the stairs. I finally make it to the kitchen to be met with the strong scent of

bacon and eggs. My father has his wire rimmed glasses perched the bridge of his nose as he

concentrates on the book sitting in front on him beside his mug full of coffee. My mom notices

my presence and sends a tight-lipped smile my way. They’re a bit duller this morning. Usually I

get an earful of curses and scolds. Two red pills sit on a plate beside some eggs, bacon, and toast

across from my mom. I sit down on the chair and pop the pills in my mouth before drowning

them with a mouthful of milk.

“We need to talk to you about something, darling,” mom hums. Dad closes his book and

leans back in his seat. I nod in response. “We can’t keep supporting you living the way you’ve

been. We love you very much, but it just isn’t working-”

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“-April stop sugar coating this. We’re fed up taking care of you and your addiction. Do

you know what it has done to your mother and I?” I shrug lamely.

“It hasn’t done anything to you guys. I’m literally never home, how could I possibly have

affected you both?” He scoffs furrowing his brows in frustration.

“What have you done?! You come home late every night, waking your mother and I up to

drag you to bed like a child! You party constantly and are unemployed. You’re 24 for Christ's

sake! You’ve drained us of our money, our love, our time. Dammit, do you know how many

times we’ve had to show up at the hospital due to you needing your stomach pumped from

overdosing! We can’t keep doing this!” Mom sniffles and I can see tears threatening to escape

them.

“So what?! Huh? Do you want me to move out? Do you want me to leave?” He scoffs.

What do they want from me?

“We want you to clean up! You have an addiction, Tonya! We’re not as naïve as you

think we are. We can see that you’ve not been the same since you started popping those pills!

We found your stash, Tonya! We give you money to live and you blow it on drugs and alcohol.

You’ve been arrested more times than I can count on one hand and we’ve had to bail you out!

We don’t have any money left. Nothing. How long will it take for you to understand that you

can’t live like this. You’re either going to die or rot in prison, and we can’t just sit here and

watch it happen anymore. I’m not going to just let you become a statistic. We need our daughter

back, not the selfish, drug addicted one.” Rage boils in my veins as I push my chair away from

the table. A part of this rage is from the drugs surging in my system now, but I don’t care. I’m

done with this.

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“I’m done with this. I am you daughter! I’m sorry I’m not like Brandon and Andrea! You

know what I can’t do this anymore. You want me gone; I’m gone!” I run away from their

presence into the living room. Suddenly I feel a hand pull me back by my arm. I turn around to

see my mother’s soft eyes.

“Stop, don’t leave. We just want what’s best for you. We love you so much, darling.” I

yank my arm from her grasp. I feel my anger boiling over.

“I don’t care anymore. You and dad said your peace. The message was very clear. If you

want me gone, I’m gone. Don’t ever think about trying to contact me again because I’m not ever

coming back!”

I won’t be their problem anymore. I’m as good as gone.