Photograph #9//Lil Peep || Rewriting

#71

AN: Disturbing content, read at your own expense.

It was July 18th, when I woke- pulling away myself away from, and getting myself dressed.

In the shower, I thought and cried so hard- my knees against my chest, letting the water hit my back. Why cry, when the world has bigger and more important problems?

But then again, grieving was a human right- so I cried harder.

I got out the shower, and wrapped a towel around my waist, then went into my closet. Constantly, looking toward Peep- hoping he wouldn't wake up. Thankfully, he stayed snoring.

Then I walked over to my window, looking down to my dad's green house- then to the Rose that sat lifeless in a tall vast, on that "serves no purpose" (quote: from my dad) table.

I sigh, walking over and took it out, leaving the room and went out to the garage, seeing my car next to my dad's old truck. Remembering my last birthday drive with him. I look away and press the button that allowed the garage door to elevate upward and got into my car- kissing the steeling wheel, remembering it being a graduation gift from my dad.

I put the Rose on my dash board and drove to my dad's grave- going the route he would take every year on my birthday- onto the freeway and under the bridge, listening to Nirvana.

When I got to the cemetery, I slowly made my way to his grave- reading the names and dates of strangers who were born and died- calculating there ages. Some were 21, others were even younger- the youngest that I came across was 5, named Dillon White. He was born in 96, and died in 2000. There were small cars surround his grave, so I take a pedal from my dad's rose and place it on his grave, with a rock over it so it wouldn't fly away.

I continue to walk, then stood in front of my dad's head stone, letting out all the saddest I kept bottled up from the past year. Falling to my kneels- crying, placing the rose down and waited for a piano to fall, so I could die too.

Not even a minute passed when someone came up behind me- holding my shoulder. I look up and see the devil himself- the cousin who did all those things to me.

I back up as fast as I could, slamming my back against my dad's headstone.

He laughed, "I knew you would be here"

I didn't speak, there was that lump in my throat and my heart beating- as I pant, holding tightly onto the headstone.

"How you doing?" He lights a cigarette, "How long has it been? 10 years? I know because I've been counting down the days to you again- and may I say how beautiful you are"

He inhales the smoke and blows out, "You know- I just got out five days ago... had Tyler- you remember him?"

How could I forget? He's the guy you shared me with- but didn't serve the time he should've got.

"We went to your home and out a car you came with an ugly tatted mother fucker- remember I told you to wait for me?"

He kneeled down in front of me and touched my cheek, "You want to know why I did those things to you?"

"Well I'm going to tell you anyway,"

He inhaled the smoke and blew the smoke to my face, "Your mom, she would take care of me when I was five- just a few months before you were born- fucking bitch had a baby bump, when she would touch me and so when you were old enough- I took my chance to fuck up your life the way she did mine"

He came in closer, "and now I'm going to stick my finger in you as we sit on your dad's grave"

And that's what he did, throwing his cigarette aside- and I didn't force him off- because of what he told me... after he was done, he cried into my chest and I held him. My cheek pressed again his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry"

He started to shake then pushed me away- getting to his feet and ran off, leaving me with so much pain that I didn't know what to do. . . .

But I didn't want to leave, so I decided to lay there- beside my dad's grave and picked at the pedals to his rose, letting the silent tears roll across my face.

"Come as you are....

As you were....

As I want you to be...

As a friend, as a friend...." I sang, wishing my dad could hold me, after what happen.