Tiny Glowing Screens|Daniel.Seavey

ICU- phoebe bridgers.

I had driven until the sun came up, which was stupid I know. But it was sunrise so hardly nobody drove over this road.

I haven't said a word since 9pm. Daniel keeps talking but he seemed pretty pissed so I'm trying to keep myself from crying.

It's not working.

He knows it too.

"I'll kill you!" He screams, the second the boot was open. "Why'd he send you? Of all people."

"He wants to see you. He told me to tell you that he's gonna kill you next." Taking the paper from Daniel's school bag, I snatch the one from his suit pocket. Writing out everything important.

"What's he gonna do? Make you drag me to the airport. All I have to do is scream once and you're fucked. He's not killing me. And you're not either. It's stupid. I mean you've could've done so much."

"I hate you!" I snicked. "Okay Skywalker. Tell it to the grass. You could've done this when I was a kid, could've been over with. But you 'wanted the better portion size' it's so stupid."

"You used to praise him for it. What happened?" I pout. "I went outside and realised that eating people is actually really weird. Don't sit there and act like you're high and mighty when you had to travel all the way here for somebody else's problems. You are like a dog to him, my father doesn't like dogs. Thinks they're gross, uses them to do shit that he can't be arsed doing."

Taking the stapler from the bag, I pushed Daniel away, dragging Frankie from the car. "You'll get out of this, I know you will. So when you get back, and when you tell him everything he wants to know. Tell him this. He can suck my dick, also, tell him that I got him."

"What?" Stapling the paper to his head, he let out a loud scream. "I will not be taken by a grown man who still takes orders like a little bitch. Next time one of you comes and ruins my night, I will fucking beat the ever living, shot! Out of you! K bye.."

I turned away, Daniel looking at me strangely as he got back into the car. "I'll buy you a new stapler. I'm sorry."

"It's not the stapler I'm worried about." He was a lot less, angry now. "I'm sorry. I've been a dick the whole morning. Daniel I just didn't want you to know because- I mean come on, it's fucking fake, it has to be. It cannot be real."

"Is it? Real?" I had to ask myself the same thing. "My mother's body was never found. My father was seen with a few burns a couple days after the fire and he didn't go away from his usually 'business meeting' I don't- I don't want it to be real but I know that it is."

"I'm sorry I grabbed you, it was stupid and you needed space. I should've just let you tell me on your own."

"No. No we're supposed to talk to each other. I'm supposed to trust you- I do. It's just- my dad's friends always used to grab me to try and scare me. Put their hands down the back of my shirt and pinch me. I got scared."

"Every time you tell me something you've been through I start to stray away from it all. If it was all real then you wouldn't have to go through this-"

"God doesn't make the people. Don't push yourself away from something you and to believe in just because people are hurting. You can't fix the world by doing that. It's stupid to think it would help."

"It just isn't fair. You were a kid." I laughed. "So was he. It's funny thinking back to it. My third birthday and my dad's only just legal age for drinking. My dad's missing a finger you know. Went to jail for kicking me down a slide and got so frantic about not eating that he bit off his finger and ate it."

"Your dad is fucking crazy." My hands were sweating and the sun was blinding me. There were no houses on this road so it was just, there.

"My dad is an awful person. He grew up being abused and moved out at 15 so it never really got any better. Had me and then started drinking. His friend from Bolton told his to try this new food that he'd made for his restaurant. Got him onto that and drinking." I let out a shaky breath.

"My mum was always working or sick so she couldn't do much. He'd come home and yell, they'd drink and poke at me. Same shit every day. I think he was being assaulted by one of his friends dads and I tried to help when I got to about ten but my dad just sort of, shut it out and never talked about it. He's a fucked up."

"He's still a bad person. You've been through all this and you wouldn't even think to do the shit he's done." I laughed. "I think about him every day. All the shit he's done. Question why and then ask myself if it really was my fault or if he was just- scared."

"It wasn't your fault. He's just- not there. He's not a good person but he's not- I don't know. People are just fucked." I know I shouldn't laugh, but he just gave up so quickly. "I know that everybody says I look like my mum. But I act like my dad."

"Yeah? In what ways?" Nobody's ever asked me that. They get defensive, they don't listen. Why's he so fucking weird? "The freak outs, the yelling, the anger- it's not as bad I know, but it's there. I'm it's really just- inevitable. I am my father's daughter. I just wish he was- I wish he was born into a different life."

"Do you ever think that you might fix those parts? The anger and the fear. Not fix as if it's bad, just— I guess understand it better."

Parking up in front of the beach, I sit back in the seat. Tucking the hair behind my ears. "I don't know. I'm sorry he was in your car. It was rude and I was being really awful to you- don't, do not say it's okay. It's not. I shouldn't have been that aggressive with you. I shouldn't have ruined your night. I don't think I'm ever going to stop saying sorry ever. So the word loses meaning for most people. But please believe me when I say it to you. Please know that I mean it. Please understand that you mean so much more to me than I'm willing to admit. And please don't look at me like that because I'll leave. I mean it. This isn't sappy, stop. I'm leaving. Fuck you."