Family Pestilence

December 24th, 2018

"Go back to the room, Gibbs! Go on now!"

"911 what's your emergency?

Before my grandfather died, I didn't really know what death was. I didn't know how much it hurt, either.

"It's my father! He's not responding to me and he-"

"Is he breathing? Does he have a pulse?"

"No, he's not breathing! Please help you have to get-"

*buzz.....buzz....*

"My mother's phone? Is it dad?"

Have it be known that I should've never picked up that phone call, and that I do regret it. But it's really not like it would've changed much. Jude would still be dead, and the grief would still remain in everyone's hearts. But something that shouldn't have happened was that I found out that no kid should learn what death is that way.

"Just know that your grandad really loved you Gibbs, remember that." Bruce cried out from the other line, with sobs from heartbreak interrupting mid sentence.

"What do you mean? Why can't he tell me that himself?"

"Because he's fucki-"

"Dead? Grandpas dead?"

I could hear the heartbreak in his voice, the disappointment in himself; of how he couldn't save his father last night. It is a little ironic to me to know that the ones who blame themselves the most are the ones who really did nothing at all, or in a situation like this, couldn't do anything at all.

"I didn't know what to do. He was dying in my arms and no police, no ambulance, no one showed up until after he was gone."

I froze. Not one tear dripped down my face, I just froze. I could feel all of my senses being numbed and blocked. I could feel my ears start to plug up and deafen, my eyes start to shake and blur, my tongue shivers and forgets every taste I've ever experienced.

I felt some sort of sadness, I really did. But I was just a confused kid who never really knew what death was until now, not knowing how to react when you're told a loved one just passed away.

I assumed my father hung up, because I couldn't hear the slight sobs coming from the phone that was barely being held by my small hand. No one else was there with me in the room. Just me frozen with my mind battling senses and emotions.

focusing on the feelings I felt that night, everything inside of my body felt upside down. It felt like someone gutted me and put my organs upside down. It felt Like time wasn't a thing and I didn't exist, I was just here in a void with everything around me being a mere spark of what could've been the world I lived in.

My sister was in the trailer as well, but when we got home she went to the bathroom to take a shower. I'm sure she came out way long after my father hung up, I'm just not sure what she did after the fact. I wasn't necessarily paying attention.

About my mother, After they picked my sister and I up from my father's house and dropped me off at their trailer, they went out to the bar. Which was obvious because I could smell the booze on their breath. I could hear the slurred words, and the way they looked at me like they didn't know who I was. I would've found this surprising if it wasn't for the fact that it was the norm for me, for my mother. I used to think it was just how she was. I really didn't know that she was drunk, because she was off the rails so often that I didn't even know what the woman's actual personality was.

"You're sleeping' on the damn couch, I'm not trusting to rest with a woman who can't keep her tits in her shirt!" Travis yells, with spit and snot running down his beaten face.

"You told me to asshole! The man wouldn't leave me alone."

The strong smell of alcohol and smoke made me regain full consciousness, but the ringing in my ears only grew louder. And the nauseating feeling in my throat growing closer to my tongue.

Even though I finally regained the realization of where I was, I still couldn't move. Or at least I didn't want to. I was rebelling against the strong alcoholic smells, not wanting to face reality just yet."

"Gibbs! Answer me!" Melissa spoke, her voice crawling through my ear like it was an echoing tunnel.

"What?

"Is grandpa okay? Is he gonna be okay?" Said with The echoing of her voice only getting worse as her sentences gained more emotion.

"I don't know. I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were talking to dad aren't you? On the phone?"

She sounded close to me, but I couldn't make out exactly where she was standing. Besides the thumping in my head and the muffled arguing, Melissa's voice was all I could really hear. There was too much going through my mind and my body, my mouth felt dry and robbed from the words I used to be able to speak. My mind was trying to numb me, but it didn't work. I can still feel, hear, see (to an extent), and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. But I didn't want to. Not at this moment.

"Is he dead?"

(The night of December 24th, around 11:35 pm.)

I obviously couldn't sleep. I couldn't keep my eyes closed for more than 2 minutes because all that I could see was my grandfather on the couch, dying in front of my father and I. And I did nothing. Nothing at all. At that time, I would never want to go to sleep because of very frequent, lucid nightmares. Sometimes I would cry and sneak into my mother's room, pillow and blanket in hand, and lie next to her nightstand on the cold floor. But even when I was very little I was scared of her to an extent, so I never dared to wake her up.

I finally could cry. My mind was too tired to attempt to numb any of my senses, and I held in enough tears that night that my pillow was still wet from tears in the morning.

I never exactly had the chance to really communicate properly with Melissa. I had no idea how she felt about all of this for a while actually.

Melissa slept right under me, as for years we shared bunk beds. Which wasn't so bad because we didn't have a problem with each other, but as we got older I eventually slept on the couch because we needed personal space.

I had even forgotten Christmas was tomorrow because of how heartbroken I was.