“I’m an alcoholic. One who didn’t follow the probation agreement. That’s it. Nothing to tell.”
“Yea, and I’m a thief,” Cassie says. My word, she scares me. “Come on. Tell us why you’re really here.”
“I did. I’m an alcoholic who jacked up.”
“Yeah, I can tell. You’re an alky alright. But, that ain’t it. Spill.”
“Yes, it is.” She’s starting to get under my skin.
“Nope. I’m not gonna leave you alone until you spill. Might as well get out that stick that’s up your rear. Now,” and Cassie pulls out a 4 inch dagger.
“Where on Earth did you get that?” Kait questions.
“I’m a thief. I stole it from one of the guards. After distracting him, of course. If you know what I mean,” and she winks. Disgusting. “Spill.”
I will. But, only because I don’t wanna look like Kenya.
“Fine. But, I’m not happy about it.”
“Didn’t say you had to be. Just get on with the story of your life,” and Cassie flashes the knife again.
“I lived in a lot of places growing up. I got a lizard when I was 11. His name was Pebbles. He was a gorgeous lizard. Oh, he was so pretty. He was beautiful.”
“Quit stalling,” Cassie threatens, but I act like I can’t hear her.
“That was, until my brother Robbie, fed him to the garbage disposal. I was crying at the top of my lungs until my foster parents came and rescued Pebbles. Well, it looked like rescuing. We took him to the vet. His face was shredded,” I sniffle, trying to hold back tears.”He had trouble breathing. The vet said he wasn’t gonna make it. So, the fosters euthanized him. Well, told the vet he could euthanize him.
“I was sad, at first, because Pebbles was gone. But, then I was furious. At Robbie for hurting him. At the fosters for letting Robbie take Pebbles out of his cage. At the vet for killing him. But, I got over it when my foster parents got me a guinea pig. Robbie wasn’t allowed to touch him.
“When I was 14, we got adopted. I was ecstatic. I got to wear a pretty dress and make-up.
“When I was 16, I went to a party with my friends and tried alcohol for the first time. And certainly not the last.
“There was beer, wine coolers, vodka, whiskey… anything you could think of they had. And, I tried a sip of everything. Man, was I drunk. So drunk, in fact, I blacked out after I puked in their bathroom.
“A couple weeks later, there was another party. I got drunk on tequila, blacked out, and woke up in my boyfriend’s bed. Without pants on. After I put on my pants, I went to the bathroom and found a condom wrapper in the trash. I lost my virginity and I couldn’t even remember it.
“After about 2 years of partying with boys, I decided I wanted more out of life, and tried to get sober. I failed. Epically. I went through withdrawal and started drinking again. My boyfriend at the time called 911 because I was drunk and hit my head on the kitchen sink and passed out. My blood alcohol level was .249%. I was hospitalized for 2 weeks because of how much blood I lost and because I was always in and out of consciousness.
“After I got out of the hospital, I had a little party, got drunk, of course, and tried to strangle a lamp, but when that didn’t work, I tried to strangle my little sister, she was my adoptive parents’ actual daughter, and my boyfriend called the cops. If he hadn’t, I’d be here for murder. Anyway, I don’t actually remember what happened. That’s just what I was told. But, I don’t want to remember, either.
“Well, you have to.” Cassie threatens, but I ignore her.
“I was in jail for a year and a half, and was let out on parole. Which I violated.
“As soon as I got out, I threw a party. Got drunk. Made out with a few people. Well, like 15 people. Got in a car and drove about 30 miles to a gas station, where I saw my parole officer, and was arrested on the spot.
“There. Happy now?”