Dead Beat (❌)

Chapter One

You know what's really funny? Time and time again people make fun of themselves regarding their daddy issues but you know what's even funnier?

Telling yourself that you hate him, that you don't need him. Yelling, screaming, just to get your point across but just when you think he's finally gone for good, everything you feel inside does a goddamn one-eighty.

"Dad!" I yell after him, not sure whether I should run towards him or throw a rock at his face.

There he is with his cold and emotionless gaze staring over at me, nothing reflecting within those blue eyes of glass.

Dad's never necessarily been horrible to me but he has to be fucking present in order to do that, now doesn't he?

"Dad!"

My voice feels thick as if I recently swallowed honey. My body feels heavy, my skin slimy to the touch but my attention is completely zoned in on my Dad while my heart thumps with adrenaline.

"Dad! Fucking answer me!" I yell once more at him, my mind unable to comprehend our surroundings.

Where am I? What's happening? After so long, why does he have to show up now?

I don't even know why I'm yelling at him, to be honest. I mean, yeah, I haven't seen my most beloved father in almost two years after he dropped off the face of the earth. I can understand my frustration but this feels different somehow.

All I can make out is Dad standing right in front of me. He's staring at me silently but as I try to step forward I'm met with nothing but resistance.

"Dad!" I call one more time before I witness my father's skull explode into a bloody, gory mess of bone fragments, brain matter, and flesh.

An unfamiliar surge of emotion electrocutes my very soul but before a single thought can make it pass my traumatized brain cells, I throw myself upwards from the couch on which my brothers and I have fallen asleep on.

A deathly, uneasy silence hangs in the air, coating each and every item in our living room. It even seems to have left a thin coating over my skin, the nightmare having left behind a thin layer of sweat that clings to my body.

Heavy, quiet pants escape my lips as I drown in the silence, my long dark hair sticking to my back and shoulders as my eyes dart over my brothers' sleeping bodies.

"Anneliese?"

The sound of Johnie's voice nearly stops my heart, his bright blue eyes shining like nightlights in the dark.

"Anny... You okay?" his voice mumbles deeply, sleep still heavy on his consciousness.

I remember chilling on the couch with Johnie and Alfie, turning on a movie and ignoring Mom's lecture in the background about us staying up too late.

"Shut up," I mumble back defensively, not wanting to show my older brother how shaken I currently am.

Johnie is beside me, still a bit disoriented, while Alfie lays curled up, still fast asleep down below on the floor.

I'm pretty close with my older identical twin brothers but that doesn't mean I want to be the little sister that is scared shitless after watching a horror movie.

"Whatever," Johnie huffs before turning over and directing a soft kick towards me under a blanket that hadn't been here before.

I guess Mom didn't want to wake us up, which is peculiar for her. She's the one to whack us awake with the hardest stick she could find and chase us up to our beds screaming about how we'll ruin our backs sleeping this way.