Prologue:
Chad
“You have no clue what I have been going through,” I said and meant every word. My world, a place I had once chose to exist in had become completely out of my control. I had just turned eighteen at midnight and felt like the odds were stacked against me. My parents stood on the front porch of our modest home looking at me as if they had never seen me before. And I guess in a lot of ways they hadn’t. I wasn’t the Chad they had raised. I was a completely different person. Hell, I didn’t even know who I was.
“You snuck out again! And you are high as a kite. I can smell the stench off you,” my mama muttered with her nose wrinkled up, unable to bear the smell.
The look in her eyes probably should be a shock to me, but nah, it wasn’t. I had seen it many times. Sadly, it hurt her far more than it hurt me. You would think it would bother me… on the contrary, I would be shocked if she looked at me any other way now. I was a disappointment to her—to everyone who had loved me, for that matter, but especially my family.
My father’s deep voice rattled through the air. “You are not coming in this house until you cool down and sober up.”
I rolled my eyes and threw my hands up in the air. “Screw that.” I was shirtless with my basketball shorts sagging, not caring about my appearance. The night I had out with my friends had exhausted me.
“Well, you can sit outside until you decide otherwise,” he responded and shut the door in my face. The loud thud only pissed me off more.
The rage boiling in my veins was nothing short of a volcano ready to erupt violently. I had been violent with my father, more than I had ever planned, but things seemed to spin out of control faster than a category four tornado. We knew how to push each other’s buttons, but since I had been using, I had no self-control.
I had zero plans, so instead, I stood outside and screamed, kicking whatever I could kick over on the porch, my mom’s plants happened to be the object of my anger. I then began to ring the doorbell over and over. I held it down, hitting the small rectangle button repeatedly. I kicked at the door, and I banged with my dirty fists that hadn’t seen a shower in a couple of days.
“OPEN THE DOOR! I am not leaving until you let me in to get what I need!” I was seeing red and was getting more determined to get in. I needed my phone and knew my parents had taken it. They must have snuck it out from under me when they realized I was in the garage sleeping. They were invading my privacy again!
I saw Mom peeking through the small window adjacent to our front door with watery eyes. “No, son. We are not letting you in this time.” Her voice echoed from being said through the small space.
The garage was the only thing I had access to, so I went in search of something to break the window or the glass on the door with. My mother loved the Texas star she had so diligently picked out to decorate our door. I knew her heart would break when I broke it but really who cared at this point. My heart was nil at this point. Her love for me had faded. I could see it in the way she looked at me. I guess you could say it was pain or anger, but to me, it was just another thing, another step that made me feel useless, void, and have less of a reason to live.
I had nothing to live for.
I had no place to live, especially after today. I had betrayed the trust of those I loved the most.
I had no will to exist.
Alexa? My sister, Melissa? My parents? Not anymore. They saw me for who I was now. There was no denying it any longer.
I went to the door carrying a crow bar, fully aware of what I was doing.
The voice in my hand screamed for me to run full force and ask for forgiveness later. That had become my mantra anyway.
I began to run full speed with a dizzy head and feet that didn’t belong to my body anymore but was met abruptly by my father holding up his hand to stop the crow bar. My vision was blurry, and I had to blink repeatedly to gain my focus.
The look in his eyes could bring any man to his knees, and ordinarily, it would have for me. Not this time, though. The demons speaking in my mind were far louder than I had ever encountered.
I watched my dad look back at my mom who had tears streaming down her face. “Call the cops, and close and lock the door. Do not open it until they get here.”