Upon the Gaze (Ghostface X Reader 18+)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Father Malice

"Jed." I said shyly, but I felt sly having come up with that. "Ooh now there's a name. How long having you been seeing each other?" She continued to prod me with questions. "Not long, maybe two weeks?" I answered. "Does he treat you well? I know you've had issues with men in the passed." She wasn't wrong about that but it did feel a tad bit offensive with how she implied it. I think she knew even before I answered that this one was different. I smiled warmly at the thought of him. "Yeah," I said softly, "he's a good guy." I put it simply. She seemed surprised for once, but smiled back at me. "Well good, I'm glad." Though it was effortlessly implied, for a moment it felt as though my mother may have actually been happy for me, proud of me. I felt happy myself at the thought, and mentally thanked Ghostface for making this happen by coming into my life.
We chatted for a bit, and things felt normal for once. That was until I made the mistake of asking what she had originally wanted to talk to me about. Her face grew somewhat vacant in expression and her voice turned somewhat serious. "Right." She cleared her throat, "it's about your father." I felt my body run cold at the thought of him. Completely opposite of the heat from my anxiety just minutes earlier. As she continued to explain, I heard the distant sound of thunder rolling in. "Your father isn't in the best condition, both mentally and physically." She explained. "What do you mean?" I asked, wanting her to further elaborate. "He tried to commit suicide early this week." She spoke in a delicate tone, maybe to try and avoid rattling me emotionally, however she had said it quite bluntly. Clinical depression ran through this family like wildfire. Nobody was safe from the thoughts it seemed. Even my mother was not free from the mental demons that plagued our family. As I recalled, there had been once we're I walked in on her in the bathroom with my father's switchblade, staring at herself lifelessly in the mirror. She looked as though she was already deceased, however she hadn't even pressed the blade to her skin yet.
She went on to describe the actions that led up to his discovery, how she hadn't heard from him in a couple days, and how he apparently hadn't showed up to work or even called in. They found him laying on his back on the bathroom floor, frothing at the mouth. He had tried to end it by taking a large quantity of methadone. The pill bottle sat empty beside him as his breaths were shallow. He had been rushed to the hospital and his stomach was pumped of the drugs.
I sat across from her, silent.
"(y/n)? Are you okay?" She asked me. I simply nodded. "Look, I know you and your father haven't always gotten along but I want you to go visit him in the hospital. His health isn't the best and...and I think you would regret it if you didn't go see him." She reached for my hand across the table. To anyone else the action may have been soothing, but to me it felt more like a chain attaching to me. Like she wasn't giving me an option here.
Distraught and strange thoughts entered my head. He was my father, certainly he was, but rather than feeling sadness, grief or regret, I felt anger towards the news. He thought he lived miserably enough to want to die? Was he not always aware of his own actions and choice of words towards his own wife and daughter? That man deserved to die, I thought. But not like this. Not in his own way. He deserved to get hit by a truck, or die from a heart attack, or get stabbed in the back by a murderer in his own home! Maddening thoughts swirled in my head, and as he entered my mind most times, the mask of my beloved killer came to mind. The feeling of Ghostface's knife gliding through the skin of my side.
I suppose I shook and looked ill because my mother reached across the table and cradled my face. She called to me and I was resurrected from my dark thoughts. Her eyes reflected in mine with what felt like the first time in years, true concern.
"(y/n)?" She said my name softly. "I'm okay, mom. I'm alright. I just haven't been sleeping well, and I wasn't expecting this kind of news." She retracted back into her seat, and shifted her hand back to hold mine, giving it a gentle press. "Please go see your father. It doesn't have to be today, but do it soon." Her voice sounded almost desperate, so I felt as though I couldn't deny her request. I agreed and we stood to hug one another.