The Best friend's Sister (2)

When I opened the door, I could feel the old scents, the fights, as well as the fights with dad being drunk.

“Who’s there?” I could hear in the background while the cheap whiskey smell went into the nose.

“It’s me, dad.”

“Joshy?” I could hear how things fell in the background, I closed the door, and little by little, I went closer to the room. I could see my father trying to lift off the ground between many garbage bags, as well as many bottles of various alcohols.

I remembered the times I had to help dad walk to the room. I felt like those memories weighed on my chest.

Slowly dodging the garbage, I got closer to Dad, put a hand on his shoulder while my other handheld his arm.

“I’m back.” I could see how dad looked at me with great sadness while leaning on me to get up. When he finally got to his feet, he lunged at me, hugging me with the little strength he had left. “Jo