Climbing Back Up Everest
Chapter 1Because falling sucks. It’s almost as bad the rain dripping from leaky pipes in the middle of the night, a constant reminder of not being able to sleep or that your in the midst of a horror film.
And because love sucks. All those stolen kisses and secret hugs in the dark corners of the living room, all those hormonal impulses and electric feelings.
Because falling hurts and because you can’t climb as high as you were before.
I fell hard. I fell from goddamn Everest. It’s hard to climb a giant twice, it’s even worse when you don’t care if you can’t.
Most people have footholds on the way up or one of those foreign guys telling you not to step somewhere. Most people have ready-bake-oven moms and infomercial dads. They might even have a brother or two to ward you off the cliffs when they seem oh, so tempting to walk off of.
I didn’t have that.
I had mom and dad and a dead brother.
I also had an alcoholic mom; a role model that came home wasted off her rocker and would walk around mumbling s*** in Chinese.
My dad joined forces with her, abusive and a drug addict, he was the one scratching at his skin and make weird faces in the mirror, while I silently took his hard punches in the stomach.
My brother died in a car crash.
I think I died in it too.