The worst part about my job at Charred was that, by the time I got home, Mom and Dean were extra drunk—like tonight. There was a chance my mom could already be passed out—unlike tonight—but Dean was always awake. And he’d be at the above-ten-beers stage, and that was when things got completely unhinged.
“All she does is fucking cheat me out of money! How does she think the bills get paid around here? The water she showers with, the light that shines in her bedroom? I fucking pay it all! And all she does is cost me money. I want her out, Melanie. Do you fucking hear me?” He followed that up with, “Out! Now!”
There were footsteps. Ones that were headed in the direction of my room. Ones so heavy and unstable that I heard himstumble and hit the wall of the hallway and bounce back toward the center. The next noise was the slamming of his hand against my door.
“Open up, you fucking whore! Give me the fucking money you owe me. I want it right now!”
I crawled off my mattress, my earbuds falling from my ears, and I put my back against the door. The lock could only handle so much pressure before it gave in and popped. He’d never made his way inside, but I always wondered what would happen if he did. It was that unknown that made me drive all my weight into the thin door, putting my hands over my ears to try and block his shouting.
“Give me more fucking money!”
I hadn’t saved as much as I’d wanted to this week because of all the cash I’d given him. And a few of the nights after I worked at Charred, I thought if I came home with a case of beer, that would get him off my back. And it had, until I showed up without beer, and those evenings looked like this one.
Evenings that came with endless screaming.
Pounding.
Demanding.
I can’t take this anymore.
“Let me the fuck in!” He banged several times in straight repetition. “This is my house, damn it! How dare you lock me out!”
“Dean!” My mother’s voice broke through his shouting. “You’re making me spin. Stop it!”
“Shut up, Melanie. Shut your fucking mouth right now.”
“Dean! I’m going to be sick!”
“Fuckin’ A, what the hell do you want me to do about it?” The footsteps were back, this time moving in the opposite direction.
My hands dropped from my ears just as my mom said, “Get a bucket!”
“Why can’t you hold your fucking booze, huh? I get you a bottle, and you puke it all up. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“You,” she wailed. “You make me sick!”
I feel the same way, Mom.
This is the only thing we agree on.
Positioned on my hands and knees, I made my way back to my bed, finding my phone hidden within the blanket, and I squeezed it into my palm. I needed to get up in four hours for work, but I couldn’t even imagine trying to close my eyes and relax enough to actually fall asleep.
It was worth a try, slipping my earbuds back in, searching for something to watch on my cell. I didn’t think a true crime doc would help, not when it felt like I was currently living in one. So, I pulled up a cooking video. I was only a few minutes into it when an email came through. I recognized the sender in the notification; she was a landlord I’d spoken to a few days ago, and that was the only reason I clicked on it.
I first want to state that it was so lovely chatting with you and showing you the room I have for rent. I appreciate your honesty about your situation, and I took your candor into consideration while I reviewed your rental application.
Unfortunately, your second job is too new. I would need a longer employment history or a more stable source of income to feel comfortable enough to rent to you, given that the rental payment would take up a majority of your income.
I’m more than willing to reevaluate things in six months or if you happen to secure a higher-paying position in the meantime.
I wish you all the luck, and again, please don’t hesitate to reach out should things change.
If I didn’t hate the noise so badly, I’d scream. But all that would do was trigger attention from Dean, and that was the last thing I wanted.
That room for rent was one of the few I’d found that I could afford with both jobs. The location was perfect, directly in between the assisted living facility and Charred, making my commute about fifteen minutes each way.
The shower even had a tub, and the bedroom came with a closet.
