Family

Conrad stared at his failed test for a few seconds before he threw it into the trash. Grades were the last thing important to him along with college, the school system being an utter weight on his mental health. He had oppositional defiant disorder. Nothing could cure his wanting to stay out of systems.

He decided his mother didn't need to know he was just passing English.

He also decided to leave school early that day to return home and light a joint. He still had multiple pills of ecstasy leftover from his last binge on party drugs. Of course, the girl he was with had left him in the amidst the fun and he had discontinued use immediately. He typically changed colours like a chameleon to avoid the after effect of things that made his world grey. Like breakups. His father's absence.

Conrad wasn't burdened. Just surrounded by reasons to have a mood disorder.

In his room, he stood across from his window looking out at the suburb view. He smoked his weed and sipped his hydrocodone syrup in aspiration for inner peace despite his anxiety. Even as he had driven home, people tested him. Conrad didn't want to take another prisoner. He resigned to his throne(his king-sized bed) via sedation from pop culture drugs.

His mother didn't even notice him walking into the house. Gone she was, in a drunken day nap slumped over herself on the couch in front of the TV in the den. Some days, he knew she was better off left alone to drink away her broken dreams of having a proper husband and kids.

—

2005

Yelling. Just tons of fucking yelling.

Conrad couldn't make out a single word his father was shouting nor his mother. It stressed him to no end. No one cared for his welfare having to deal with his declining stability. He was alone at seven years old to calm himself; to reassure himself no hands were going to be thrown, no objects being used to break limbs, no glasses being shattered over anyone's skulls. The pain he felt even having nothing to do with their arguing that was comparable to being hit playing in traffic. His innocence was no means of protection from getting hurt.

Daphne screamed a hurl of insults before a door slammed. It had to be the front door as the entire perimeter of the large house shook. Even the tall walls around him vibrated from the opposite end of the home. Conrad felt his legs quiver. Someone walked out.

He wondered if it was for good this time. He desperately wanted to know but was too scared to leave his room out of fear anger would be taken out of him. The boy listened for a sound to echo across the room downstairs. All he could hear was the sound of loud snorting.

It wasn't crying. Runny noses sounded different. Were they dying of a respiratory response? His young mind wandered as he quickly disappeared out his door to tip toe down the stairs.

His father was in the kitchen. His back faced Conrad, unaware of his presence. He was fine. His son was about to leave until he saw him grab a vile off the counter and open it. The man emptied a generous personal amount of white powder onto his knuckle before he brought it to his nose. He snorted obnoxiously, threw his head back and pinched his nose.

Something told Conrad to leave the room. As quietly as possible, he snuck back up the long case of stairs and went to his bed. Asleep, he would soon be and away from his worries til the next morning.

The next morning was an anomaly to what he usually experienced. His father was off to work, wherever that was. And his mother was gone.

It stayed that way for three weeks. He felt alone. He didn't know the concept of leaving home over a lover's coke addiction. He didn't even know what was going on other than a sudden break up.

When Tony returned home that night, another woman was with him. She looked younger than Daphne. Something about her made Conrad feel ill. His inner knowingness told him to never repeat what he saw to his mother. The man was cheating; it was something he had recognized from movies. It was… morally wrong.

Confused and angry, Conrad stayed in his room that night playing video games and pushing away thoughts of his mother never coming home. He wished better for himself. His mother. Stupidly, his father. No man on Earth could feel the pain Conrad succumbed to. Voiceless, he waited for Daphne's return.