“What are you doing, Joey?” Mam decided to throw her two cents into the mix. “Why would you put that stuff in your body again?”
Had I entered the fucking twilight zone?
At what point in time did she assume that I stopped?
She knew the score.
She goddamn knew it.
This whole damn fiasco was a show put on for Darren’s benefit.
“You’re one to talk,” I laughed. “Drowning yourself in Prozac and Valium.”
“Prescribed to me by a doctor. Not the thugs from the terrace.”
“Okay, Mam.” I rolled my eyes and took a bite of my sandwich. “Whatever you say.”
“Is it Shane Holland?” she demanded. “Is he sniffing around again?”
“Jesus Christ, what do you care?” I snapped, having had just about enough of the bullshit interrogation. “Everyone get off my fucking back!”
“No, I won’t get off your back,” the golden boy himself interjected. “You’re back on drugs, you’ve been expelled from school, you’re off the hurling team, and you’re—" He stopped just short of saying about to become a father. I knew that was on the tip of his tongue. “You are ruining your life!”
“I don’t have a life!” I roared, losing my ever-loving shit with him. “I’ve never had a life!”
“Well, life or not, if you keep this up, you’re going to turn into him. You’re going to end up becoming the one thing you hate most in the world.”
“Shut up, Darren!” Shannon was quick to defend, as she rushed towards me. “Joey, shh, shh, it’s okay. Don’t listen to him, okay? It’s not true. You’re going to be okay.”
“Stop fucking saying that, Shannon. Nothing’s okay. Nothing!” I strangled out, feeling myself slip. Feeling the mask that I wore to shield my emotions fall away. “You know, I sat in that cell for hours, thinking how did this happen to me. How did I end up the way I am. All fucked up in the head. But then I called you.” My voice cracked and I forced myself to point at her. “I called you to come help me and you didn’t pick up. And then I knew.” Sniffling, I threw my hands up, feeling helpless and alone. “I said to myself that’s why. That’s how I turned out like this.” Narrowing my eyes at the woman who gave me life, I spat, “Because you broke me!”
“That’s not true,” Mam cried out, shaking her head. “Take it back.”
It was true.
It was the truest thing that had ever come out of my mouth, dammit.
“You fucked my head up worse than he ever did. He used his fists, but you? You got in my head,” I admitted, on a roll now, as pain and poison spilled from my lips. “You broke my mind.” I slammed the heel of my hand against my temple, desperately trying to emphasis to this woman just how badly she had damaged me. “I don’t work right anymore and it’s because your voice is stuck in my head! The sound of you crying and begging me to help you is all I can hear!”
“Joey—”
“Every time I close my eyes, you’re there. In my head. Crying for me. Begging me. Screaming save me, Joey, save me!”
“Joey, stop—”
“But I couldn’t ever save you, Mam,” I cried, hating myself for my weakness, as tears trickled down my cheeks. Hating myself for still loving her. “I couldn’t save you because you didn’t want me to! You wanted him to be here! You wanted all of this to happen—"
My mother struck me so hard across the face that I momentarily lost my train of thought.
“Don’t you dare blame me,” she hissed, poking me in the chest. “I did everything I could for you and your brothers and sister!”
“You did everything you could for him,” I retaliated. For them. “You can’t lie to me, remember? I see right through you.”
My mother hit me again.
Harder this time.
Hard enough to twist my head sideways.
“Mam,” Darren was the first to react, stepping between us. “What are you doing? Don’t hit him!”
And yeah, her slap hurt, but not nearly as much as the truth I’d given her.
“And I’m the one turning into him?” I said, glaring at the pair of them.
Fuck it.
What was the point?
“I’m not living like this anymore.”
I’d had it.
I couldn’t take another fucking second.
There and then the decision was made.
“I’m done!”
Moving for the stairs, I thundered up to my room, and started piling random items of clothing into my gear bag. Why? I had no fucking clue. It wasn’t like I was going to need them. Not where I was going.
“Joey, stop …wait! Wait!”
Still, it felt sickeningly liberating to do it.
To pack my shit up for the last time.
To walk out of this house and know that I would never have to come back.
“What are you doing?” I heard Shannon ask from my bedroom doorway.
“I can’t stay here anymore.” Knowing that it would kill me to look at her, I kept my head down as I packed. “I’m sorry.” You’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it. “But I’m going to explode if I stay in this house.”
“You mean for the night? You’ll go to Aoife’s and come back tomorrow, right?”
No.
I wasn’t going to Aoife’s.
I wasn’t coming back, either.
“Joey, please.”
“I’m sorry!” Hating myself for knowing what my decision would do to her, but knowing that I had no other way out, I zipped up my bag and flung it over my shoulder. “I’ve tried, but I can’t do this.”
“Joey, please,” she sobbed, clinging to me just the same as always. “What about me?”
What about her?
What about Tadhg?
What about Ollie?
What about Sean?
What about Darren?
“What about me?” I broke down and cried. “What about me, Shannon? What about me!”
“I love you,” she wept, unwilling to let me go. “I do. I love you so much, Joe. I care about you. You’re important to me. We can figure this out.” Desperation filled her voice. “We can get through this together. You don’t need to do—"
“Listen,” I interrupted before she could cut me any deeper with her words. “I need you to take care of yourself, okay? I need you to do that for me.” Trembling, I leaned in close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t depend on her, or Darren, or anyone else, because in the end, the world will let you down. They will all let you down.” Anyone with the Lynch last name, at least.
“And you?” my baby sister asked, looking up at me like I could somehow fix her world when I couldn’t even fix my own. “Does that include you?”
“Especially me,” I forced myself to tell her, though it almost killed me to say it.
And then I did the best thing I could for her.
For all of them.
I walked away.
“Where’s he going?”
“Is he leaving us?”
“Forever?”
“But he can’t go!”