Tentacles

9

My mom had called me up the next morning.

It was April 2nd.

We drove to the cemetery in silence. It was a normal day out, clouds blocked the sun so only tiny rays could reach the ground.

Everything was in silence. It was like suddenly someone had accidentally replaced the open air with Jello, and we were moving in slow motion, in great difficulty. I took my moms hand in mine and she turned and smiled. I could see small creases in her skin, and the way the shorter hairs that didn't fit in her ponytail was a silver color. My mom was getting old, and it broke my heart.

If you go to Robinson Cemetery in the state of Maine, and walk to the very back, there are two gravestones with the name Williams written on it.

One of them is for Marcus Williams, my father.

The other is for Emily Williams, my younger sister.

I placed simple roses under my sister's grave.

It had been five years since her death, and I still missed her.

When I got to the dorm, Hailey was standing there, leaning against the kitchen counter. She just had high-waisted ripped jeans and a striped shirt, and as of last week her hair was a dusty pink.

"Where were you?" she asked, pouring herself a glass of water.

"The cemetery," I replied, and sat down on one of the stools.

Hailey set the pitcher of water down before it had even reached halfway and turned. "Any reason why?"

"My dad and my sister." I got up from the table and started to strum my guitar.

"Wanna talk about it?"

I shook my head and continued to play.

-LATER-

I was just drifting off to sleep. 

I was slipping into inky darkness when I felt a brush against my leg I turned to look at a black tentacle staring into my soul. The tentacle morphed slowly, into a girl with dusty pink hair, and a contagious smile.

I ran into Hailey's arms. For a split second, I was safe in this dreamland, and then I woke up.

When someone says they wake up in a cold sweat, they mean it. Your forehead is drenched with sweat, our sheets stick to your skin, droplets of water fall from your face. You can never tell if it's just sweat or tears.

It was 2:30 AM.

I put my face in the palm of my hands and sobbed as quietly as I could. 

It wasn't quiet enough.

I was suddenly enveloped in a warm hug, and kisses on my forehead and cheeks, in a motherly, comforting way. 

I sobbed a little louder. "My dad, it was his fault-"

I rocked back and forth and Hailey shushed me and kissed my nose.

"Tell me, love."

I wiped away the salty tears (A/N:hey you know what else is salt? this chapter ayyyyyy lmao) and began to explain what happened to my dad.

When I was about 17, I found my father drunk I the kitchen. I had known for a while that I was bisexual, so I decided to tell him. I didn't remember much afterwards, except the sting of a belt against my skin and my father tugging me and my sister in the old red Jeep we used to own.

My father blew past stop signs and red lights as me and my sister screamed at him to stop.

I remember him screaming "ENOUGH!" and slamming into the brakes in the middle of a four-way intersection. 

My head slammed back  into the seat, so I didn't see much, but a semi driving past didn't see us and crashed right into our car.

Suddenly, I was upside down and my body was sore everywhere, and the last thing I remembered about the car accident was my sister screaming at the top of her lungs, and looking over at my father murmured his last words. 

"Go to hell. You disgust me."

My father died right then and there.

My sister died a couple days later. 

I survived.

If you think about it as often as I do, the thoughts start to engulf your mind. 

I used to think surviving was the worst punishment of them all.

Until I met Hailey.

I fell asleep quick that night, my head on her chest and her arm pulling me close.

No more tentacles.