Page 16 of Alik

I woke up in a hospital bed.

They told me I’d been found at a shootout where the police ended up confiscating over a million dollars in drugs.

“It was my neighbor’s,” I finally say, confident. But I took too long to answer. I can tell by the way my dad’s face falls that he knows I was searching for a memory.

“You blacked out.”

My eyes lower to the floor.

When my dad heads for my bathroom, I follow. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. He throws open my medicine cabinet and snatches my lone bottle of pills before ripping off the cap and dumping the contents into his palm. There are maybe ten left.

“Have you been taking these?” His voice is low. Scary. It weaves tension into the tiny space and punches me in my chest.

“Of course I have.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he growls, turning to face me, his hand shaking with fury.

My eyes narrow. “I’m notlyingto you. I would never lie about something like that.”

When he scoffs, it’s worse than if he’d hit me.

I scoff right back to mock him. When he glares at me, my teeth bare. It feels like ages since I’ve been angry at anyone but myself, but right now, I can’t believe him. “I know it’s hard having a fuck-up for a daughter and all, but do you actually think I’m proud of what happened a year ago? Do you think Iwantedthat? My life isruined.”

He shakes his head like he’s in disbelief. “When are you going to get it, Olive? It isn’t just your life you’ve ruined. If you knew what you’ve done to your mother, you’d…” He turns his head, his eyes closing like he’s stopping himself from finishing that sentence.

“I’d what?” I fire back, but pain is saturating the anger. I bite my trembling lip and force my chin to stay high, force myself to hear this.

When he looks at me, his eyes soften. He puts the pills back in the bottle then holds out his arms for me, making all my anger dissipate.

I wrap my arms around him and squeeze as tightly as a terrified child would. Because Iamterrified. I’m terrified of what I’ve done in my past and what I might’ve done last night. Of the pain it’s caused my family. Most of all, I’m terrified of what I may be capable of in the future.

For me, the heroin isn’t what fucks me up most. And it isn’t what I’m willing to do to get it. It isn’t actually about the drug at all.

It’s about what it does to my medication. Specifically, it keeps it from working.

My father’s chest rumbles, and it takes me a moment to register it as a sob. “It’s gonna be okay,” he murmurs, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself.

I squeeze harder as my heart cracks. “I know, Daddy. I know what I have to do.”

He kisses my head then pulls away, wiping under his eyes as he nods. “I’ll call Dr. Blunderson first thing in the morning.”

“No, I… That’s not what I mean.”

His face seems to freeze over. A moment passes while he stares at me incredulously. “I can’t take this anymore.”

“Daddy…”

“How many times, Olive?” His eyes well with tears. “I’ve been bailing you out since you were twelve years old, and I haven’t had a restful night since. How many times are you going to do this to me?”

Twelve. The time I blacked out at Alexis Alley’s slumber party. I don’t remember a single piece of the night, only the next morning waking up in my bedroom with my mother crying and the police downstairs because the Alleys were pressing charges. Apparently, I tried to drown their cat.

He hasn’t slept since then?

I look down at my feet as blood drains from my face and my palms start to feel clammy.

I’m sorry, Daddy.

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