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Thaddeus Duke · **06-16-2023, 05:51 PM**

Night after night I’ve found myself deep into a bottle of Jack staring at the universe spinning high above. No one bothers me. No one asks. No one checks. ‘It’s just Thad,’ they say. ‘He’s in one of his moods.’ Maybe. But then maybe I’ve grown tired of reaching out to those I care about only to get rebuffed and ignored. Maybe I’ve grown tired of people not reciprocating that same love when I’m so obviously crying out for help. Maybe I’ve grown tired of always being the strong one. Maybe I’ve grown tired of always being the one that’s so ‘put together.’

My body screams, yet nothing escapes my lips. My blood try to force its way from my body and the pain is excruciating.

But I’m Thad. I’m super wealthy with fast cars, a beautiful home, an even more beautiful wife and kids. What problems could I possibly have?

…And it all might be killing me.

For weeks now, I’ve had at most an hour of sleep per night. Each time I try, I wake up screaming and in a cold sweat. It wakes Lauren up and she bitches that I woke her. She bitches that the sheets are drenched in sweat. She doesn’t ask. She doesn’t ask why I wake up screaming. She doesn’t ask anything at all. Her only concern is that she’s awake when she’d rather not be.

To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m screaming. Even if she asked, I’m not sure what I’d tell her. I don’t know the answer. Everything prior is a blur and I can’t ever remember it. What happens next is I fall into an abyss. I fall into a black hole and scream at the top of my lungs but no one’s listening. No one hears it. All the while, the light above fades faster and faster until it’s nothing more than a pinpoint of light… then… nothing…

So for the last few nights after everyone is in bed, I’ve done nothing but lay sprawled out on the pier and drink while staring up at the sky with Mufasa refusing to leave my side. He’s been protective of me since the day I released him from the prison that was the circus he belonged to. He senses danger, a darkness… yet no one else puts themselves aside for five seconds to even notice.

On one hand, I get it, people are busy and they have their own problems. On the other hand, there’s nothing I wouldn’t drop at a moment's notice for any one of them. I’m not ashamed to admit that that hurts a little bit. All these people I’ve let into my circle and they either don’t give a damn, or they wilfully ignore it.

Tonight was a bit of a wake up call. Seb Bryce and I… we’ve butted heads before but this one… I don’t know. It seemed different. I mean, maybe in the end it’s nothing more than he and I both goin’ through some shit and neither of us really know what it is or how to deal with it. Regardless, I realized that maybe I should have reached out a little harder. But then again, is it really too much to ask for someone to give a damn about whatever the fuck is going on with me for a change?

Over the years, I’ve grown accustomed to people I love eventually leaving me and moving on to whatever and who the fuck cares. Maybe it’s just that time for Sebastian to decide that I’ve used up my usefulness in his life and he needs a new bestie.

”None of this is even about him,” I said to Mufasa as the tired old lion lays his head on my chest. Taking a swig from the bottle, I realized it was empty. I lay there a few seconds more as I toss the bottle and wait for it to splash down.

”Let me up,” I said to him. Mufasa reluctantly climbs to his feet as I stumble to mine. Standing upright for the first time in a few hours, the world spins around me, threatening to knock me into the ocean. Slowly, the lion leads me toward the house. Going up the steps to the rear patio I stumbled just once. Inside the wide open bay doors I nearly trip over the runner on the interior side.

”Haha! You thought you got me that time, didn’t you?” I said aloud to no one. Stepping up from the family room to the kitchen, a light turns on, blasting my senses to smithereens. Tripping over nothing at all, I fall forward to the kitchen floor. On landing, I inadvertently threw my shoulder through the glass paned cabinet.

”Fuck,” I said quietly to myself. On my hands and knees I open the cabinet door beside me in order to aid myself back to my feet.

”Baby,” I heard Lauren somewhere behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, I lose my balance and fall on my ass.

”What’s wrong with you?” she asked from her place on a stool on the other side of the kitchen island.

”I’m fine, Babydoll,” I lied.

”Call your shrink,” she suggested. To which, I only stared at her with my glossy but bloodshot eyes. ”I’ve been patient. I’ve given you space to try and deal with… whatever it is, in your own way. I’ve let you snap at me for no reason without snapping back.

“It’s been weeks. Call him.”

”Or?”

”What?”

”Nothing,” I replied. ”I ran out of Jack. Do be a dear and grab me another please?”

”Stand up and get it yourself,” Lauren challenged me.

”Can’t do that,” I replied quickly. ”Last time I was standing, I wasn’t for long and then this happened,” I said while pointing at the busted out glass pane.

Lauren climbs down from the stool and comes around toward me. Opening the recycling cabinet she looked inside then back at me. ”We’re probably out anyways,” she said with a disgusted tone.

”Then get my keys, I’ll go get more,” I said as I somehow willed myself to my feet.

”Only place you’re going is the shower,” she said with a crinkled nose. ”You smell like booze and sweat.”

”Nah I’m good,” I said as I stumbled my way around her and reached for my truck keys laying on the island. Suddenly, she slams her hand down on mine against my keys. ”Really?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

”Really,” she said clearly.

”Did it ever occur to you these past couple weeks that maybe I needed you to ask?” I asked with anger in my tone.

”You’d have said the same thing you said a minute ago,” she retorted. ”Nothing.”

”Maybe I needed you to pick, poke and prod,” I argued. ”Maybe I needed you to be my GODDAMN WIFE!”

”Is that what you wanna do? You wanna pick a fight with me?” she asks so calmly. ”Maybe we’ll wake up Frankie and you can pick a fight with him too.”

”Why would I pick a fight with Frankie?” I asked incredulously. ”He’s just a boy.”

Lauren grabs my cell phone and holds it to my chest. ”Call him.”

In a momentary sudden rage, I rip my phone from her hand and whip it across the room. It impact the family room wall and bursts into pieces.

”What’s going on?”

Fuck.

”Nothing Frankie,” I lied. ”Go back to bed.”

Something is happening. I don’t know exactly what but a thousand emotions seem to all be swirling up and boiling toward the surface at the same time.

”Who broke the cabinet?” asked the boy as he stopped short of entering the kitchen.

”Frankie honey, your dad and I are talking. Go back to bed.”

”Dad?” Frankie asks. He throws caution to the wind and steps barefoot amid the broken glass on the floor.

”Frankie! Your feet…”

”Why are you crying?”

”What? I’m not.”

Lauren looks at me. ”You are,” she said worriedly.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. The pain in my chest increases as it tightens and all at once, the dam breaks and my face is basically Niagara Falls. Losing the ability to hold up my own body weight, whether it's the alcohol or something else, regardless, I go down to the floor. Lauren is there with me the whole way, cradling my head against her.

”Dad!?” Frankie cried out in worry as he rushed over.

”Baby?” Lauren pleads with emotion. ”Please tell me what’s wrong!”

Continuing to sob uncontrollably for a few moments, rather than answer her, I just cling tightly around her. A second or so later, I feel much smaller arms wrapping themselves over my shoulders.

My compassionate little man.

”I don’t know what it is,” I finally replied. This time, I was one hundred percent honest.

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