Chapter Text
Alex or Quackity lay on the cool hardened floor beneath him in his room, staring at the ceiling fan going round and round in circles. He had been there in that position since he arrived home from school at two-thirty… Now it's five forty-seven. His head was spinning like crazy; he swore he could’ve seen a balloon floating up on his ceiling. His head is buzzing, and his chest feels heavy but at the same time, his shoulders feel relaxed from all the tension building up on his shoulders and back. Maybe taking edibles and drinking energy drinks together was a bad idea. Eh..it’s whatever.
He heard the door downstairs creak open loudly, notifying his mom’s home. Great…! Alex groaned, sitting himself up quickly hiding the edibles under his bed and stuffing it with dirty clothes. “ALEXIS VENGA AQUÍ AHORA!” His mom screamed out angrily. Fuck. What in the fucking hell did I do this time? He quickly ran down the stairs stumbling his way down since his whole world was spinning. He came in to see his mom with some guy again. ‘This is getting too old’ Alex scolded his mom but only to himself or else his mom will be taking her belt off to beat the living crap for talking to her like that.
“Alex quiero que lavas la ropa y que limpas el baño, también quiero que laves los platos, dáme $120 dólares, voy llegar tarde como a las tres de la mañana vengo” she literally slurred out immediately telling me she’s drunk...again. Alex suppresses the urge to roll his eyes and seriously money? Again? Quackity was always hesitant to give money to his mom, he was always paying the bills, and the electric bill came two days ago costing $1,356. Giving money to his mom to save his ass from another drunken/non-drunken beat was maybe not so worth it.
He handed the money over taking a glance at his mom’s new play toy only to see him going through the fridge talking literally about what was going to be dinner for him later on. He watched as the older guy who was at least twenty years older than his mom only being thirty-two years old. Yeah, he’s seventeen and had him when she was fifteen, as you can tell his mom is a whore. He loves her regardless of how she’s treated him since he was little. He remembers his father well. His dad killed himself when he was eight, and he walked into his parent’s bedroom to see his dad hanging from the ceiling chair knocked over on the floor, and a letter on the side of the bed.
Alex spends the next three and a half hours cleaning dishes, doing laundry, and cleaning the bathroom. By the time he’s done, it's already seven forty-five. Alex grabs the leftover money that he was able to get by ‘working’ heading out, shutting the lights off, and closing the door. He starts walking towards the grocery lighting up a cigar in the meantime.