The Mortician's Daughter

I Open My Lungs, Dear

🎶 You're on your own, my little nightmare.... you cannot stay here, it's far too bright for you, if they attack you just lay there. Play dead, dear, it's your only hope of pulling through 🎶

Andy groaned at the sound of his alarm. He loved the song his alarm played when he woke up, but he hated what it called for him to do.

Just one more snooze and then I'll get up....

He started to snore again, but not what felt like a second later the alarm started to go off again.

🎶 "Sadie G, she's crazy, see," that's what the whitecoats say 🎶

"Mrgh," Andy grunted, lifting his head from his pillow and slamming his alarm clock again. He sat up, stretching.

There was a quick tapping at his bedroom door, his mother calling, "Andy? Are you up yet, honey?"

Andy sighed, putting his face in his hands. "Yeah, Mom. I'm up." He started slowly getting out of bed, just to slump to the floor and fall asleep again there.

"Andrew, hurry up! It's already six forty five!"

He jerked awake again, calling, "yeah! Okay! Getting dressed!"

In fifteen minutes he threw a t-shirt and jeans on, messily straightened his hair even though he had already the night before, and put a little eye shadow and mascara on, otherwise he would look 'albino' as he said without it since his hair was naturally so blonde. One day he would figure out how to dye not just his eyebrows and hair black, but his eyelashes too.

"Andrew!"

"Coming, Mom!" he said, finishing teasing his hair in the back. He ran to his room and slid a few necklaces and rosaries over his head, as well as a bunch of bracelets on his wrists. Jogging down the stairs, he grabbed the plate of toast and orange slices his mother was holding out for him and set it on the table, then getting a glass and pouring some milk.

Andy didn't even sit while eating, though it was all at the table. He had no time to waste.

As he scarfed down the last of his breakfast, leaving a half a piece of toast left on his plate, he kissed his mother goodbye and pulled on his shoes.

"Wait, Andrew! Your jacket?"

"I can go without it," he answered, waving her offer away with his hand. "Where's Toby?" he asked, picking up his backpack.

He heard clicking nails on the hardwood flooring in the foyer, and there was the family dog, Toby, yawning and tired-looking.

"Bye, buddy," Andy said, scratching his ears. "Bye, Mom!" he called.

"Bye, sweetie! See you after school!"

And with that, Andy ran out the door to catch the bus, hopping on to get to school.

*

When Andy was at school, there was no such thing as peace.

He had a crippling depression, as well as anxiety which didn't help him to focus or sit still. His OCD and ADD had also gone haywire until his parents were able to get an appointment with able to get an appointment with the therapist so they could get a signature of approval for prescription. Until then, he would have to suffer.

It wasn't like it hadn't always been this way. There had always been something different about Andy, and everybody knew it.

All Andy could think about that day while he sat in class and fidgeted was the girl he saw often hanging around the mortuary, the one with red hair and beautiful blue eyes. She was the daughter of one of the lead morticians there, Cecil Compton, someone everybody in Cincinnati knew or at least had heard of. Apparently he was very good at his job; everyone would consult him when they had a death in the family or someone they knew.

Now, after school as Andy paced around the back of the mortuary, where the small graveyard was. Other than that, there wasn't else back there, just piles of stone slabs Andy assumed were used to make gravemarkers.

As he walked around the yard, looking at the description an names on the graveyard, he heard the back door open and part of a conversion. It was the girl.

"And, honey, make sure you put the needles in the toxic waste can. They're old, so I haven't even bothered to clean them this time."

"Yes, Daddy," the girl answered. She had such a sweet voice. Andy wondered if she would talk to him in the same way.

She let the back door close, and she dumped a bin of tools into the tall red bin outside against the wall labeled "hazardous waste," she started humming.

Who knew one could be so happy while dumping out the remains of dead people, Andy thought, sticking his tongue out in disgust at the thought of working so close with the remains of dead people. But never mind that, listen to her singing voice! Well, not really singing voice, but humming. It sounds so pretty....

Usually Andy couldn't care less about girls. They were usually all the same.

Unlike the mortician's daughter.

Despite what his brain told him originally, it changed it's mind to go along with his heart and take the fist step.

He stepped out of the shadows of a nearby tree, closer to where he could see more of her pretty face.

"Hi."

She jumped, a cute little scream escaping her mouth. Seeing him and placing her hand on her heart, she said, "You scared me. Who are you and why are you here?" She lowered her voice, looking around cautiously as if someone else was there listening who wasn't supposed to be. "You're not supposed to be back here."

"Sorry. School's out and I was just.... bored." He stuck out a gloved hand, his fingers exposed along with his black fingernails. "I'm Andy. It's nice to meet you."

She smiled a little, taking his hand an shaking it gently. "You too."