Chapter Text
Alcohol made Daddy honest but mean. It made his mouth – stinking of stale beer and old cigarette smoke – curl up in cruel smiles. Made his blue-gray eyes sharper, narrowing on JJ’s every move. Made his fingers too tight, his fists too sharp, his swing too hard.
Alcohol left bruises.
The pills made him sweet. Affectionate. Made his smiles dopey and loving. Made his hands hold JJ with so much tenderness that sometimes he felt like maybe he was still Daddy’s favorite.
The pills filled JJ with hope.
The cocaine made Daddy fast. Quick to spit a mean word. Quicker to strike.
Daddy’s hands were never empty after the white power. They carried wrenches. They threw ashtrays. They slammed bottles against walls. Slammed JJ too.
The coke left scars.
But the meth? Only lasted a week. A week of itchy skin and darting eyes for Daddy and a bruised chin and nightmares for JJ. Just dirty fingers like claws gripping his chin, his jaw, as Daddy leaned in close and hissed, “Who you workin’ for? The fuckin’ government? They send you?”
The meth left Daddy paranoid. Left JJ confused. Scared.
Heroin made Daddy sleepy.
Made Mama dead.
JJ hated the needles most. Hated the way they looked, all spilled over on the coffee table. Hated the way it hurt when they poked his fingers as he swept them into the trash.
JJ smiles all day after turning in his D.A.R.E. drawing to the teacher. Tells everyone he’s going to win the contest, that his drawing is going to be chosen to represent the school. That he’ll probably even get a reward for it.
He gets pulled out of math class before lunch, his seat between John B and Pope empty for the next two weeks. And when he gets back, he’s got a split lip, a bruise on his jaw, and a cast on his right arm.
He throws his crayons away.