If You’re Offered A Drug Called CHC, I’m Begging You Not To Take It

“In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve banned make-up from this house. Curse words aren’t allowed in this house. And sex isn’t something a young lady should even be thinking about.”

The same voice was speaking. One of Emma’s daughters. The slightly older one. The other one must’ve been out with her father.

“Is that why dad left you? Because you wouldn’t fuck him?”

Emma’s daughter was standing in the kitchen, staring down at the tiles with a knife in her hand. Her eyes looked droopy and her skin looked purple, but she was speaking clearly. Saying all of the lines in that infamous argument. Repeating Emma’s side of the fight. And then mom’s side of the fight. Like she was stuck reading lines for all of the characters in a play.

“What are you going to do? Are you going to kill me? Yeah, great idea. Go to jail for the rest of your life because you can’t deal with the fact that your daughter is hotter than you. That men actually like me.”

Her daughter must’ve worn contacts, too. I must’ve put the drugs in the wrong case. Of course Emma didn’t have a bubblegum pink container. That color was for kids. And keeping it out in the open? Letting it clutter up the area around the sink? Emma would never be so careless. She’d store her shit away in the cabinets.

“You want to grow up so quickly. To wear make-up. To stay out past curfew. To fuck. But how would you like it if I died? Then you’d really have to grow up.”

I’d told Felix about my plan, since I’d gotten in the habit of telling him everything, and he’d warned me against it. He’d said that giving the drug to my sister would be dangerous. That someone who had never drank before wouldn’t be able to handle their liquor as well as a seasoned drinker. And that someone like her wouldn’t be able to handle the drugs as well as someone like me.


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