everything about you | eddie munson

63.

Nancy had just dropped me off at my house. I see the girls leave with the car behind me. I had a talkie-walkie with me so that I could get to Steve, Max and Dustin after settling my father's account. Maybe it's crazy, but I want to end this. For good. I enter my house noticing the same familiar bottles scattered on the floor. I hear the sound of running water coming from the bathroom. I assume he is taking a shower. I walk over to the chair before lifting the cushion and seeing that the gun wasn't there. I frown before hearing a voice behind me.

"Is this what you're looking for?"

I then flinch turning around before seeing my father in his bathrobe with the gun in his hands, twirling it around his fingers. I then sigh noticing that I was caught red handed.

"Yes."

I immediately see my father loading the gun before pointing it at me. I then raise my hands as I back away. My father then starts to smile, how can you be so excited pointing a gun at your daughter? This guy is really inhuman. He's not my father anymore.

"Then come and get it."

I see my dad getting ready to pull the trigger, I immediately put my hand on his, grabbing his arm then turning it around, putting it under his back. I then take the gun and step back, pointing it at him. He immediately raises his hands to the sky.

"You remind me of that girl in the comics... The redheaded, Russian spy?

- I know, I get that a lot." I say.

I then walk forward keeping the gun pointed at my father, he slowly backs away before coming close to the chair. He then sits down on it. I then put the gun between his eyes.

"Do you know how much you hurt me?

- You? Do you know how much you hurt me?!

- Me? Make you suffer? You're selfish. I don't know what keeps me from putting a bullet between your eyes." I said.

My father stifles a laugh before putting his hands on each end of the chair. He then speaks.

"Wouldn't you dare to do it?

- Oh... Watch me do the opposite. There's nothing stopping me now. I have nothing left to lose." I said.

I load the gun, I feel my throat knot up, tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted to say everything that was in my heart. Everything that had been killing me for months and months.

"You hit me, every day... For months and months... You blamed me for mom's death. Me! Your own daughter. You ruined my life."

I feel a tear trickle down my cheek, I ink my gaze into my father's.

"But it's over now." I say.

I lean toward my father before speaking up.

"You won't have a chance to reach me six feet under anymore."

My father looks at me for a few long moments. And I'm surprised to see his gaze become faraway, afraid. And for a few short moments I felt like I was seeing my father again. The one I knew, before. I see a tear running down his cheek.

"I hate that you look so much like her."

I stifle a laugh as I straighten up. I seek out my father's elusive gaze before dipping my eyes into his and speaking up.

"Was that a reason to make my life a nightmare?"

My father widens his eyes. And I found him, my father. Sober. My father. Mine and no one else's. And my heart rips as I see what I was doing.

"Do it honey... I don't want to live with this weight anymore." He said.

I inhale, then exhale. Every word that came out of his mouth was breaking me. My heart told me to put the gun down, but my brain told me to kill him. To make him pay. I want to get out of here and leave nothing behind. I want him to know how much it hurts.

"I loved you dad."

And it's true. I loved him as his daughter, but I hated him as a human. But now I don't feel anything. It's over.

"Forgive me."

I pulled the trigger. I heard a thud. I closed my eyes. I felt his blood splatter on my skin and clothes. And I think I had an anxiety attack. I started to cry. Blood was running down my arms, the gun had a bloodstain. Then I left with the keys to his car and the gun. I tucked the gun into my pants, wedging it between my waist.

I got in the car, started it up and sped off. My tears mixed with the blood on my face and my sobs echoed throughout the car. I continued to drive, trying to stay focused. I don't know how to feel, happy? Sad? Angry? Scared? I just know that a part of me is gone. But I don't care, I'm free. I'll go with Eddie after all this and that's the main thing.

But I still felt that guilt. I wonder how I'm going to live with a murder on my back. And my father's to boot. I sigh before grabbing the talkie-walkie and turning it on, I start to sob before I speak.

"Steve!" I say.

He doesn't answer. My breathing quickens. My tears continue to flow, moistening my face.

"Steve!" My voice cracks.

He doesn't answer. I throw the walkie-talkie violently against the passenger seat before I stop on the side of the road. I look ahead for a few long moments before finally hitting the steering wheel hard.

"Holy shit..." I say.

I look down at my bloody hands before finally putting them against my face, crying. Again and again and again.

"I'm sorry... So sorry."