Eighteen Going on Dead

Chapter Twenty-One: Glass House

It's been three days since Aunt Joyce and I were coped up in that motel, the blizzard trapped everyone in, which means no dead bodies popped up nor did the killer knock at the door. I started the morning with a few unpleasant dull aches on my abdomen from the cream Aunt Joyce was making me out on my stitches- it was his new healing cream that the doctors forced on us to give them more money. Anyway, the stitches was still fresh, raw and pink with the steel stables keeping it my skin together.

"Stop picking at it." Aunt Joyce said for the millionth time while walking past and drying her short hair rather roughly.

After finishing the last touches of my battle wounds, I patch them all up and let my loose shirt fall to hide them. "They're so annoying."

"Still, don't touch them, it'll make it worse." She flopped down on the edge of the bed and grabbed her laptop to do more police work; probably looking deeper into the hospital video cameras to see the accident. No matter how much it was bugging me, I decided not to look, I did not want to see Greg's death- that can not fit in my conscious.

"I'm going to head out." I announced while putting on my coat and opening the door to ensure that cold air and bright sunlight bouncing off the snow and into my eyes.

"Wait! Do you have your pepper spray?"

"Yeah, and the pocket knife. I'm going to be with Katy, I'll be back before five." I simply said before watching the old car Katy burrowed from her parents pull up into the empty snowed out parking space. "Bye." The door closed behind me, my boots crushed the thick snow and breath froze in the air.

Katy's parents car had wonderful heating, it smelt of honey with a mix of mint, the stray cross hanging from the rear view mirror was the only decoration. "I'm so excited." She immediately broke the thin ice, her enthusiasm didn't have to be spoken to be known. "I've only been to Seattle for a class trip, even that was a very long time ago and boring trip."

"Thanks for... this. I need to get out of town, I just hope you don't mind us going somewhere first."

"Of course not, I should thank you for giving me an excuse to get out the house. How are you feeling?" Katy finally drove off before my aunt burst out of the room and dragged me back inside.

"I'm fine, bruises are held and my stitches... well they're getting there."

The church girl probably did several small prayers for me during the past week, I highly appreciated them if she did. That crash into the shower could of done some serious damages, a piece of glass could of stabbed my spine and I would of been dead (not literally but figuratively). Katy lips tugged into a small smile before she actually focused on the road ahead.

****

It was all bitter sweet, the cold sense of my father going so far to take his own life- to make sure his own daughter didn't find him dead on the bathroom floor. Then again, I don't know rather it would be tougher finding him or finding out that he was dead; either way, it would be a hard pill to swallow (of course, a murder suicide was harder).

The tenant followed us up to the room, probably to make sure we didn't steal anything; even though I showed him actually proof that the condo was mine. It didn't matter anymore, by time I'm out of here it'll be on the market for the next lonely and depressed man to use.

The condo was a two level space with the bedroom up top and the rest at the bottom. I do have to say, dad still had his fancy taste, even at the most lowest times. The building itself was in the heart of Seattle, it was freshly built from the bottom up two years ago and the rent was hella expensive- that was the first thing the tenant told me when I gave him proof of my existence.