Scumbag

This is my worst nightmare. The smell of wet paint, a tired moan, and a crying baby.

My drunk brother, my sick mother, and my little sister. All in one place, no other familiar face, not even a hint of dad's trace.

Life doesn't play jokes on me—— life flirts with me—— it takes me out to dinner just to spill juice on me, then buys me a bottle of wine after harassing me.

Life's a scumbag. Life's a douche. Yet if you give me another 50 chances at life, I'd still fall head over heels every single time.

Just like how brother got out of rehab just to have another sip of beer.

Just like how mother sold her medications just to save a bit more cash.

Just like how my little sister vomited into the toilet over and over again, but would still whine for pumpkin cake every day and night, and would cry so loudly that the neighbors would rush over and bang on the door—— just to see that she receives her spoon of pumpkin pie.

But life didn't get to dad. Life never got to dad. Because after all these years of accepting us, taking care of us and loving us, life loved him—— and he threw life away.

And get that, with a rope! An old fashioned jump rope which I played hopscotch with when I was 12—— he dumped life with a rope.

Just how cool is that?

Yet no matter how hard I tried to believe that my dad's cool, that dad loved us no matter what, that his death wasn't because of us, and that his choice was just to make everyone's life easier—— as I look around at the messy apartment, smell the reeking alcohol, and hear the annoying, continuous drops of water dripping down from the ceiling—— a tiny voice kept nagging inside my head, asking me this question I've always been afraid to answer: What kind of douche dumps a scumbag?

"Wake up, Alicia, " Mrs. Jenkins tapped me on the back of the neck. "And stop mumbling."

"Scumbag." Gregory mocked quietly as a few people around him snickered.

I wiped the drool off my face and slowly blinked. "Wh-what?"

Mrs. Jenkins smiled sympathetically as she passed me a napkin to wipe my face. "You were cussing and crying in your sleep."

I could feel my face turn red as I tried to hide myself behind my napkin. "Not too loud, am I?"

"Loud enough to make me worry," Mrs. Jenkins muttered then walked to the front of the room. "Come see me after class, 'kay?"

I quietly scrolled down my phone as I scanned through the texts my best friend Jules had sent me. I saw your dad on the way to basketball today, Jules texted after sending ten emojis of unicorns. He told me he's getting you some sleeping pills. Are you okay?

Yeah, of course. Just been having some nightmares, I replied. Of course nothing would happen to dad. Just me and my terrible dreams.

So what does this dream mean exactly? How come I've been having this dream over and over again? And why does each time seem more real than before?

"Maybe you should see a shrink," mother suggested as she brought lasagna out of the oven, her dark green mittens in stark contrast with the ripe tomatoes on the plate. "I'm certainly not sick, and your brother's in Harvard's student council, so I don't know what you're worrying about."

"Nah...... No need," I took a big gulp of orange juice and picked up my fork. "Probably just application season jitters."

"Having jitters run in the family," dad laughed as he pushed a spoon of hot lasagna in his mouth then spit it out again. "Oh! Hot!"

"Oh, Jarred, honey, that's just disgusting!" Mother handed him some coke and winked at me. "I know you're hungry, but my cooking's not really THAT good."

"Is it not?" Dad suddenly turned serious as he grabbed another spoonful of lasagna. "You know, Lareina, sometimes I do wonder if Alicia's dreams are right. What does life mean to us? How come life gets to play us but we don't get to play them? What controls life? Why can't we control our own life?"

Mother scowled. "Jarred, no."

"I'm serious. I'm actually thinking about going away for a while to find out, you know—— what life means, and how do I conquer life as it is."

"We can talk about that later, honey, and not in front of Alicia—— especially with her problems."

"What problems?" I asked. "What problems do I have?"

"Nothing, honey," mother smiled a tight smile. "Nothing."

"Bullshit. You do know that we're talking to a kid with anterograde amnesia, right? We can make all the plans we want, tell her the saddest stories, give her the nicest gifts—— and she'll forget all about it the next day. What's the point of life, then, if you can't remember anything?"

"Dad...... Is that true?"

"I've been explaining this to four years now, ever since your real father died and I adopted you—— I'm your uncle, your brother's twin, and for all nights your dreams were right. Yet you come back to reality all the time to forget about the truth."

"So what about my classmates, my——”

“They're all people like you, as I've explained yesterday, the day before yesterday, and two days before yesterday. And—— you know what?” Dad, or my uncle, turned to...... Lareina. "I'm just doing bullshit. Just get her to sleep."

Lareina quietly nodded and gently pushed me up the stairs as I stared at the blank walls in shock. "I don't think I'm going to sleep tonight," I said. "I want to remember everything."

"I know, honey, I know." Lareina kissed me on the cheek. "But you know you will. Sometimes it's better not to remember everything, you know? It makes you happier. Do you want me to close the lights?"

I thought for a while while staring off into space. "Yeah, sure." I sighed absentmindedly. I could feel Lareina close the lights as she quietly stepped out.

It all seemed so familiar, out of a sudden—— the lights, the room, the door—— everything. But then as I feel my breathing deepen, I hummed a song I didn't even know the name to, and bid myself a careful goodnight.

This is my worst nightmare.