Bloody Knives in My Leftovers

Chapter 5: Trauma Bonding with A Manic Pixie Dream Girl

Really you couldn't remember much, you just know that your mother had this....terrified look on her face. Like someone had doused the light in her vibrant (e/c) eyes.

She only briefly turned to you, sitting with your sleeping sister in the backseat. Her smile was soft like melting ice cream, the kind of smile that brought peace, for even a moment.

Still, even though she flitted her gaze over the two of you with a lost longing, she managed to hold onto her fire that seemed to grow stronger by the second.

"You know, I wouldn't trade you two for the whole entire world." The words she spoke gently left her lips, making you scoff, a smile etched into your features.

"You're the cheesiest mom I've ever known," you paused, seeing the way she laughed at your comment. "But same, we love you too."

Her cheeks glowed in the dim street lights that cast shadows into the car as she drove down the empty street. It was obvious she appreciated your words but felt the need to say nothing else, just letting the memory sink in slowly.

Your mother reached across and turned up the music, the song lulling you a bit to sleep. The hum of the car accompanied by the tune made your eyes heavy, perhaps you had stayed up a bit too late the night before.

Just as you were about to join your sister in slumber the car veered left suddenly, jerking you awake and allowing a slight shout to leave your mouth.

"Mom! What the hell was that!?" You were panicked, your mother never drove like that. She was pretty safe when it came to you two.

She looked just as panicked, but also very annoyed, pissed off you could even say. She shook her head, muttering curses as you drew your attention to the large truck that swerved across the lanes.

'Where'd all the time go? It's starting to fly.'

Another jerk of the car as the clearly drunk driver passed back into your lane, making you sit up in worry and shock.

"Don't worry sweetheart, it's just some asshole. Pardon my french." She was trying to keep you calm, trying not to wake your peaceful sister. There was nothing to worry about, she had it all under control.

"Can you grab my phone for me, hun? I want to report this jerk to the police, he's clearly had too much to drink tonight." She kinda huffed the words out, keeping her attention on the road as much as she could.

You immediately reached into the passenger seat and picked up her purse, setting it into your lap and rummaging around for her cell phone.

'See how the hands go. Waving goodbye.'

You found the device and quickly unlocked it, eyes darting to the sleeping child to make sure she was alright before clicking the call icon, bringing up the keypad.

"I'll dial it for you mom, don't worry." Your voice shook, this had never happened before and you weren't sure how to handle it.

You took deep and calming breaths as you typed out the memorized number. Your mother had drilled it into your head at a young age just in case.

'And now you know I get so forgetful... When I look in your eyes.'

"Hello, sheriff's department, how may I help you?"

The car took another sharp move as you spoke into the receiver, everything was going to be fine you told yourself.

"Hi, I would like to report a drunk driver, they are-"

'Now she's walking backwards, through a parade.'

Just as your mother slowed to try and pull to the side of the road the truck did a complete one-eighty, slamming right into your car, launching it off the road.

BAM!

The sound made your heart drop, not letting you completely grasp what was happening as your world literally twisted upside down.

For a split second it was blissful and unknown, your mother's hair wild as she tried to scream, her hands still tight on the wheel. Your baby sister, eyes opening in slow motion, a mix of brown and blue in stark contrast, making your lungs tighten.

'And I'm stuck in the shadow, blocking the shade.'

You could still hear the woman's voice on the phone, repeating her questions in a tortuous cycle, clashing with the calm music.

'And there ain't no way to sweep up the mess that we've made.'

Glass shattered on the pavement, sending glittering edges into the interior, the force allowing the shards to become embedded into the fabric seats, and your skin. Ripping and tearing into your flesh as you squeezed your eyes tight, hands blindly reaching out to block the incoming attack.

'She gets dressed up like a pillow, so she's always in bed.'

Once. Twice. The car spun and flipped, sicking crunches echoing in your mind as your whole body lurched forward, face pressed against the back of the passenger's seat, fingers digging into the material.

'Flowers for the sick and dead. She's on the go, way too fast and way too slow.'

Neither of them got another word or scream in as the world came to a screeching halt, upside down and sliding on the road, hitting the metal rail and finally coming to a complete stop. It allowed you to finally feel the adrenaline, to breathe.

They didn't seem to do the same.

'She'll turn to stone at hospitals and funeral homes. And when the fog rises, somebody sighs who is not in disguise anymore.'

In and out, in and out. Your heart pounded against your ribcage as your eyes flew open, searching frantically for--

'There's nothing to keep you from falling in love.'

Your mother was hanging from her driver's seat, arms limp and neck twisted in a strange direction. Her forehead was stained with blood, eyes wide and startled, like a deer in headlights. Her lips were parted, allowing you to witness the red dripping from her tongue, almost bitten off from the pressure of her teeth.

She wasn't the most horrifying, though.

'It starts at the bottom, and comes from above. Like pieces of a puzzle, like a hand in a glove.'

You nearly choked in pure shock, head-turning to try and see your sister.

Suddenly, your hands were shaking, desperately putting on your seatbelt, begging it in frantic wipers to let you out.

You tore it from the busted lock and fell to the bottom, knees scraping against broken glass and metal.

'She gets dressed up like a pillow so she's always in bed.'

Pushing yourself up with your hands, not registering the glass slipping into your soft palms, you stared upward.

A baby girl, no more than nine years old...

Her hair was matted in thick and never-stopping blood. Her head was swinging back and forth from the momentum of the flip, loose in the socket. Sparkling red dripped onto your face, trailing down your cheeks like crimson tears.

Her tiny hands hung downward, almost as if she was trying to reach out for your help.

Then you made eye contact, dull blue still intact...deep brown bulging out of her small face, drying and bulbous. Cuts around her doughy cheeks, letting you see her baby teeth.

'Flowers for the sick and dead. She's on the go, way too fast and way too slow.'

Not even being able to scream, you couldn't stand to look at the sight any longer. Keeling over and vomiting for the second time that night, a pounding in your head and your vision swimming with saline.

As soon as you stopped dry heaving you scrambled, crawling through your mess and pressing your blood-stained hands to the frame of the shattered window, pushing yourself through.

You soon discovered you were surrounded by darkness and forest, the night eerily calm as your breath came in sporadic bursts. You could feel the already splintered bones in your body straining and snapping.

Here you were, some dumbass teen on the side of the road, the two people who you loved more than anything, dead as doornails.

'She'll turn and stop at hospitals and funeral homes.'

You stayed on all fours for a moment, trying to force your shitty little brain to think of something, anything to make this situation a little better.

One thing was for sure, you could not just sit there as your mother and sister hung upside down, dead.

You inhaled sharply, the night air burning your lungs as you smelled smoke and rubber. No doubt from the wheels rubbing against the pavement.

With a runny nose and shaking arms, you approached the flipped car again, knowing if you wanted out then you would have to grab the phone you dropped in the crash.

Crawling through the glass again, the shock enabled you to block out the pain as you avoided looking at the bodies once more.

The last thing you wanted to do was accidentally run into their swinging arms, hanging there like cheap Halloween decorations.

You spotted the cracked device laying face-up near the passenger side, lit up from the ongoing call that somehow stayed on.

With blistered and split fingertips you scooped the phone into your hand and lifted it up to your face, eyes locked onto the floor.

"Miss? Miss? Is everyone alright? I'm sending officers to your location now."

'And when the tide rises,'

With a raspy tone, you cradled the receiver with both hands, whispering gently into the mic. Barely able to choke out the words.

"...help.."

You tuned out the operator's questions as your vision became fuzzy, colors spotting your sight. And as she typed in the background your arms went limp, body following suit as you fell back into the debris.

Out cold and scared.

'Somebody sinks and is gone in the blink of an eye.'



You weren't sure how you made it through some of the details, having already broken down in tears. Sobs racked your body as you buried your head in your arms.

A part of you knew that it was stupid to trauma dump to some random guy you had met a few hours before, but somehow it felt so good to finally talk to someone about it. Someone that wasn't paid to listen to you.

You couldn't bring yourself to look up at Toby, sure he was freaked out by your explosion of emotion and distress. You were freaked out too, in all honesty.

Breaking down in a shitty fast food joint was not the best look.

As your eyes squeezed shut you heard his voice, a low whisper. Like he was scared of his own words.

"M-me too."

With a gasp of air, you slowly lifted your head, staring up at the brunette with wide eyes, who looked away quickly. An emotion on his face you couldn't place.

"What.." another gasp, "What do you mean?"

You were a sniveling mess, but seeing the tears gather on his lower lashes made you feel a little better, like the two of you were bonding in some sick pathetic way.

Toby sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, leaving a trail of snot and making you shudder, averting your eyes.

"I-I loo-sst a sis-sster too...in..in a cra-assh." His words were slurred slightly, his fingers tapping into his palm at a quick pace. He was quite obviously uncomfortable with his own memories, flinching as a car passed outside.

Knowing you didn't want to push him too far, at risk of another break-down sesh while you were not mentally stable, you reached across the table hesitantly. You carefully set your clammy hand into his upturned palm, stalling his fingers for a moment.

His head snapped in your direction, pupils darting to your hands and then back up to your face, blinking owlishly. He slowly squeezed your hand a little, his much longer fingers wrapping around the back of your hand and settling on your skin comfortably. He controlled his shaky grip the best he could, sniffing and wiping his face with his free hand. Still gross, but a little more endearing.

It kind of felt...nice. Being half comforted in a dingy booth, holding hands with some cute puppy-guy. Almost made you forget you could be murdered brutally at any time.

You cleared your throat, feeling the dryness on your lips as you run your tongue over them.

"Toby...I can uh, talk to Louise. Maybe we can both head home early today?"

Yeah fucking right, you were definitely going to die or quit in the next two weeks. That is if everyone you know and love doesn't get their heads cut off first.

Toby just nodded his shoulder jerking and making him grimace in annoyance. Or maybe that was just another facial tic.

The two of you really didn't talk much, instead, you went about cleaning up the cheap food in a slightly awkward manner. Toby was suddenly glued to your hip even more than before, always standing over your shoulder like a lanky shadow. Surprisingly, you didn't really mind it. He was good company, even if he was rather intrusive at times.