Page 45 of No Place Like Home

“Q!”

Again, my heart was beating faster when there was no answer, reminding me of another time when my shouts went unanswered.

“Quincy!”

My scream was so loud, but it drowned with the touchdown on the screen. I took off running when I saw him lying on the floor.

No.

No.

No.

This was not happening.

Not again.

Simba beat me to Q. The faithful dog started to lick his face, and his master just lay there unmoving.

“Mommy, please wake up”

Rosie was on the floor, pleading with my mother, and I was too shocked to do anything about it. My body had frozen, my veins felt like ice, and my heart stopped beating for a second, but my brain knew. She was lying down away from us, so I told Rosie to move. I needed to shield her. Slowly, I turned her around. Her eyes were half-closed and her mouth somewhat parted. Her beautiful olive tone had grayed a bit. That made the blood that had covered her stand out all that much more.

I dropped to my knees and slowly reached to touch her face. “M-m-mommy.”

My voice was weak, it didn’t sound at all like my voice, but it reminded me of the voice of a scared little girl who didn’t get to go to her first sleepover. Her face was still warm, but when I put my finger by her nose, there was nothing—nothing at all. I closed my eyes tightly, and I stopped tears from falling. Slowly I closed her eyes, then I hugged Rosie tightly, and I screamed so loud I was surprised the shitty walls didn’t come tumbling down.

“You selfish asshole!”I screeched as I patted his cheeks, checking to see if he was warm…which he was.

I held my breath as I put my thumb over his nostrils. Warmth engulfed them, and I sighed in relief. I lay back and felt instantly lighter. They should have sent anyone but me today. I was not equipped to handle somebody else's fuck-ups when I could barely handle my own. I ran so much so the demons chasing after me didn’t catch me.

Quincy was passed out, and I ran my fingers over his hair. It was also in need of a cut. I knew it because his hair was long and curly, and Q always had a fresh fade. I ran my fingers through his hair as I got myself under control. While I did that, I scanned the room.

Bottles upon bottles everywhere.

Seriously, he was drinking his life away?

One thing I couldn’t stand was alcoholism.

My eyes landed on the giant screen and recognized the game. It was last year's Superbowl. I shook my head and got up. It was going to be a long fucking night.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

My head was pounding.The large cup of cold brew did nothing—absolutely nothing—to make me feel better. I thought my days of pulling all-nighters were behind me in college, but nope. I was dead wrong. Taking care of football players was just as tiring.

“Miss Jess,” Charlie singsonged.

I inwardly glared at my tiny human. I loved all my students. I swear to God, I did. Charlie was a delight of surprises most days, but I was just so tired today.

“Mmmph.”

“My brother said that the bathroom by the art class is haunted and that the door by the playground belongs to a witch.”

I sighed. The bathroom was not haunted. It just so happened that a few years ago, there was a mouse, and it made a few pinatas rattle. The kids all got spooked, and the myth was born.

“The bathroom isn't haunted, Charlie, and the door belongs to Mrs. Patterson.”

Charlie jumped from his seat and screeched in amazement. “Mrs. Patterson is a witch!”

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