Page 116 of Broken Grump

That’s also kind of how I felt on the night that I yelled at Luna. Sure, I was frustrated with work, and she was being a little annoying, but nothing warranted my response.Nothing.

The idea that I shared the old man’s DNA was already bad enough. But actually having his spirit live on inside of me? That was a hard pass.

Soon, however, some of his favorite words started ringing true:You’re a failure.And I’ll never amount to anything more than that.

***

As the night continues to grow darker, so does my inner dialogue.

I’m now hunched over in my office and clinging to the whiskey like I am a baby who needs his milk. It’s disgusting and pathetic. I know it. But that’s all I am. Disgusting and pathetic.

You’re a failure, Hayden. A failure.The words are haunting me like a relentless ghost. And try as I may to get them out of my head, they only get louder with each turn.

However, as time passes, the evil inside of me seems to only grow. With each hour that goes by, I feel more and more like I’m turning into my father again. I even avoid mirrors in fear that I look just like him now—with his wrinkled face and judgmental eyes.

“God damn it!” I eventually throw the bottle on the ground in frustration. When it bounces back, I relish in the slivers of pain the small shards leave on my skin.

Soon after, the worst possible thing happens. The doorbell rings, and when I check the camera, I see that it’s Addie. She’s looking cute with her hair down and in a denim jacket. But I can’t face her. So I freeze in place and hope she can’t see my shadow in the window.

But she won’t let up.

“Hayden? Are you in there? Denton, your friend, he called me. I guess he got my number from your phone when you were in the bathroom earlier at the club. He said you could use a friend right now. Anyway, Luna is staying at Paige’s house for the night, so I thought I’d pop over and make sure you’re okay. Please let me in.”

“Just leave me alone,” I beg silently.Please.

Despite these wishes, my eyesight has since gone blurry, and I apparently hit the “open” button on accident.

“Thank you.”

“Fuck!” After watching her walk in, I look around the room for anywhere to hide. But she finds me before I make my choice.

“Oh, my God! Hayden!” Her entrance causes a small sliver of light to pool into the otherwise darkened room. “You’re bleeding. What happened?”

The last thing I want or deserve is for her to nurse me back to help. So, I resist. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

She takes my palms into her hands. “Nothing my ass. Hold tight. I have a first aid kit in my car.” She disappears for a few minutes, but then comes back with a small, plastic container under her arm.

When she grabs my hand again, I go to move away, but her grasp is firm and unrelenting.

“Now, please try to hold still. This is going to hurt.”

After that, she unscrews the cap of a bottle with her teeth, and then I wince as she pours it over my wounds. She was right, it stings like a bitch.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I had to make sure the wounds are all cleaned out. It’s over now. Just let me bandage you up.”

Her touch is then soft and motherly. Usually, I’d relish this careful attention from her, but right now, it feels wrong. So, so wrong.

When she’s finished tidying me up, she asks where the broom is, but I can’t find the words to tell her.

“Okay. That’s fine. I’m sure I can manage.”

Moments later, she comes back with the wooden broom in one hand and the dustpan in the other.

Then, she carefully sweeps up all the shards. And while doing so, she is nothing but empathetic and kind to me.

“Why are you being so nice?” I ask with a huff, slinking down onto a hard leather couch nearby.

“What do you mean?” she stops what she’s doing and peers over at me. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

---