Ah, things are getting difficult.
So, Friday night, I get off work at 10:30. Ashley is there to meet me, and we get on the 238 back to Quincy Station. At night, the buses drive with all their lights on inside, so you can't see anything but your reflection in the window. It was a big surprise when the bus stopped in Randolph, emptied all of its passengers and left us there. It was now 11:20 or so, and there were no more buses. There was a T station a mile away, but no more trains that night. We wandered around this unfamiliar town for an hour or so before finally calling my stepmother. She didn't have the car, and my father wasn't home yet [weird, since it was 2:00 AM], so she had to call her boyfriend, who had the car, to come get us. It was around 3:00 when he got to us. 'Shley had to work at 7:00 AM.
As we were driving back, we passed my dad coming down Bridge St on his bike. He saw the car, assumed it was Lynda, and instead of coming into the house when he arrived, he went into the woods out on the beach. This is because he was drunk and high, and hadn't anticipated anyone being up so late. This is a big fucking deal. He just got out of jail for the second time because of this. He is a very bad alcoholic and addict. My stepmother and I locked all of the doors and the windows so he couldn't get in, and we both took a phone to bed in case he tried to force entry.
I told my dad, about a month ago, that I'd stick with him and support him in everything as long as he stayed clean. It was a threat as much as it was an affirmation of trust. Our relationship is considerably broken at the moment.
I'm dead tired from three straight days of arguing, and worrying. I'm so mad I could spit. And now I have to go to work. I'd really just like to crawl into bed and sleep for a very long time.
Sorry for the depresso-post guys. It happens. o_-
As we were driving back, we passed my dad coming down Bridge St on his bike. He saw the car, assumed it was Lynda, and instead of coming into the house when he arrived, he went into the woods out on the beach. This is because he was drunk and high, and hadn't anticipated anyone being up so late. This is a big fucking deal. He just got out of jail for the second time because of this. He is a very bad alcoholic and addict. My stepmother and I locked all of the doors and the windows so he couldn't get in, and we both took a phone to bed in case he tried to force entry.
I told my dad, about a month ago, that I'd stick with him and support him in everything as long as he stayed clean. It was a threat as much as it was an affirmation of trust. Our relationship is considerably broken at the moment.
I'm dead tired from three straight days of arguing, and worrying. I'm so mad I could spit. And now I have to go to work. I'd really just like to crawl into bed and sleep for a very long time.
Sorry for the depresso-post guys. It happens. o_-