>>"Spencer! Get down hear now!"

‘Ahh, and the which calls.’ A nineteen year old Spencer thought to herself as she puts the picture of her father and two brothers,some what wrinkled with tears, under her pillow. After bracing herself for the inevitable, she proceeded to go down the stairs of her London home to where her mother had previously bellowed for her presence.

Spencer found her mother in the kitchen. As soon as she arrived Paula waved her into the overly sterile room. After a moments hesitation she goes to stand beside her mother.

"Spencer, did I not tell you to stop fiddling with my car?!? The breaks are so tight, its like you expect me to be fucking drivingat a hundred mph!! God, you are so fucking dumb!"

Spencer cringed as Paula got closer with each sentence,the smell of vodka creeping its way into her senses, leaving an uneasy yet well known feeling to settle in her stomach. She didn’t need her mother knowing that she took the car on her double shifts to race the locals. The money was way too good. And she had a killer reputation that came with the respect that came with only being nineteen.

She had never previously been able to associate Paula with alcohol, being the catholic woman she is. Or was. That is besides her, oh so hypocritical, rantings of how horrible it was to indulge in it. But, after both the accident and the days spent in the hospital’s outcomes this slowly became a normal occurrence. She could never wrap her head around how Paula managed to get so wasted in about 20 minutes after work, and then go strait back to the hospital as if she hadn’t consumed ungodly amounts of alcohol the previous night. Oh, but Spencer always did take care of her afterwards. You know, depending on how bad she herself was.

"Mama, are you drunk…….again?", she said, lip quivering, trying to hide her nervousness

"Don’t change the bloody subject! You wouldn’t be pulling this shit if your ill father was here or if your brothers were still around! Would you?!?"

Her heart clenched at the mention of her deceased family. Every word was slurred in Spencer’s direction. If that weren’t evidence enough the all too familiar bottles of jack and vodka that she saw once looking over her ranting mother’s shoulder was.