Jasmine G. Pearce - Its in My Genes: Addict by Blood, Addiction by Choice.

Its in My
GENES

Addict by blood,
addiction by choice.

Jasmine G. Pearce

Copyright 2017 Jasmine G. Pearce.

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-4480-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-4481-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017903989

Archway Publishing rev. date: 04/07/2017

CONTENTS

To my family, which has suffered too much pain from this disease.

I woke up during the night to hear the loud laughs and chatter of familiar voices, so I untangled myself from the blankets on my bed and crawled out. As I crept down the hallway in my silky pajamas with clouds and moons printed all over, my little bare feet squished into the thick, soft carpet. Trying to not wake my brother or sister as I walked through the house, I could hear the loud roar of my dad snoring as I got closer to my parents bedroom. I sneaked past and headed straight for the kitchen, where the chattering of my mom and her friends got louder and louder. I shuffled past the table in the middle of the decent-sized kitchen. I pulled myself up onto the counter and looked through a little window to our backyard, where my parents worked hard to build a shed that we used for our playhouse. Then I looked at the above-ground pool they put in and the beautiful reddish-brown stained deck that wrapped around from the kitchen to the side of the house. I could see the back of my momincluding her dark-black hairand her two best friends beside her. They were sitting at the table on the side of the deck. This happened more often than not.

As I continued to listen to their drunken conversation and the slurred words coming out of their mouths, I wondered how they could have so much fun just sitting there having conversations about random stuff that didnt make any senseat least not to me.

It all makes sense to me now. My mother is an alcoholic.

I will never forget the day my mom left. It was a Friday afternoon, and spring was just around the corner. The lightly chilled air breezed through the small town. The sun was shining through the scattered clouds, and the air smelled crisp and fresh. We had just gotten out of school when my dad decided to take my sister, brother, and me to Fred Meyers to pick up dinner for the night. I remember it exactly because that was when they still had the section where you could go in and rent movies (VHS tapes). I headed straight for the kids section, and as I looked at all my options, I found a movie called The Saddle Club . It was about a group of young girls who were in a horseback riding club. I was so ecstatic because I loved horses.

As I grabbed the movie off the shelf, I waved it in my dads direction to show him.

Looks good. Bring it here, he said.

Thanks, Dad! I yelled as I raced to him to put it in the basket.

We finished up our grocery shopping for the week and got some dinner for the night. As we left the store, I got even more excited. I couldnt wait to get home and show my mom the movie I got.

As we pulled up into the driveway, I perked my body up as if I was going to leap out of the moving car, my face pushed up against the window.

Jas, sit back in your seat and wait till we park the car! my dad hollered back at me.

Okay, I said as I rolled my eyes.

As we came to a complete stop, I quickly undid my seatbelt and jumped out of the car with the movie in my hand. I ran up to the front door, and as I went to open the door, it was locked. That was weird because if my mom was home, it shouldnt have been locked. We lived in a nice neighborhood with a long road filled with decent-sized houses, all nicely kept. Big, beautiful yards were filled with freshly cut grass and bright maple trees along the houses.

Dad! I yelled. The door is locked!

My brother and sister lingered around my dad, watching him gather all of the grocery bags in his arms. As he struggled to get all of them onto each arm, I continued to wait by the front door.

He walked up to me and handed me the keys. Go ahead. Open the door, Jas, he said with a sad smile on his face.

I raced into the house like a wild animal. Mom! Look what I got!

As I ran around the house looking for my mom, I started to realize she was not there. Her car was there, so where would she be? Maybe she was outside. I ran and opened the sliding back door. Mom! I screamed.

There was no reply. She wasnt outside. I thought about it for a minute, and then something in my gut told me she had not just gone to run an errand. She was gone. Gone. My first instinct was to go into the bathroom and look into her drawer to see if her blow-dryer was still there. As I grabbed the handle of the drawer to open it, my heart raced.

When I pulled open the drawer, my eyes started to tear up. I saw that the blow-dryer was gone. I knew my mom well. If she was going anywhere for more than a day, she was going to take her blow-dryer. As I sat on the bathroom floor with tears running down my face, all these thoughts went through my mind.

Why did she leave? Did she not like living here? Did she and my dad get into another fight?

I was always a pretty clever kid. I paid attention to all the details of my parents. I always knew there was something wrong. With the way they acted, they never really seemed happy. I mean, sometimes they did, but most of the time when my mom made dinner at night, I would see sadness in her eyes.

When my dad came home every night after work, he looked exhausted, of course. Normally you would expect someone to be relieved when they got home from a long day at work, but my dad wasnt one of those people.

I rocked back and forth while sitting on the floor, my face buried into my hands with tears going everywhere.

He knew what was going to happen as soon as I ran in the door and went looking for my mom. He knew the whole time. He knew she was leaving. This all was just a plan to get us out of the house so my mom could pack up her bags and leave.

I heard the phone ring in the other room.

Hello? my dad casually answered.

I could hear his loud work boots stomping around on the hardwood floors in the kitchen. Then he opened the door to the bathroom, where I was holding myself in the fetal position with tears running down my face. He picked me up, carried me to the recliner in the living room, sat me in his lap, and handed me the phone.

Its for you, Jas, he said.

Hello? I said as I tried to hide the sound of myself crying.

Hey, honey, its me