Glass Reality | Book One

Chapter VIII

Dread coils in my stomach like a snake as another laugh floats menacingly throughout the air. My shoulders locked together in tension, and I brace myself for the extra wide and red smile to appear in my face. Only it doesn't happen. I realize that this cruel monster behind me wants me to turn around. It makes the whole moment a hell of a lot more terrifying. I can imagine people in an orchestra dramatically playing the violins as I slowly turn my head.

Only those violins cease just as I realize nothing is there. There's nothing.

I cannot even feel it, letting me know the thing is actually gone. My insides turn to mush, something that I recognize as relief, and I fall to my carpet suddenly balling.

Tears escape my eyes like immigrants leaving Europe. I cry so much that I fear a puddle will form on my carpet. My poor parents.

That thing...it was there at the funeral. It talked to them. Did it kill them too? No, it was a car crash.

A horrible car crash on the corner of Benson Street where there was a horrible intersection. A car hit them and they hit the tree that killed them on impact. Remembering my parents makes the tears fall out faster. I think of my mother's perfect smile and my father's innuendos about meat and long things. I swear that sometimes I can imagine the familiar smell of pumpkin spice and cookies around the house, two of my mother's favorite things.

That thing was there, no doubt. It's when I first saw it, at my parents funeral.

We were both stuck in a trance staring at each other, unable to believe that we could actually see each other.

He mentioned something about the fact I could see him which makes me think; can other people not see him? My parents definitely could, but they were glowing a warm yellow, like a candles soft light. It's obvious other people couldn't see him. I mean, even Jared couldn't and the thing was sticking its unholy face right into my uncles--or whatever Jared is to me.

My dads family was never really close to us. It was my mother's family that constantly gave us birthday presents and decorated our house for the holidays. Mostly, that was Aunt Janice and Uncle Ricky, but even our grandpa and grandma were close with us. In fact, they still are.

Until recently, that is. My grandma has some problems with her mind, so when she saw Aunt Janice about a week after the funeral for my parents, she about went into hysterics. Aunt Janice looked so much like my mother, my grams thought that it was my mom. Needless to say, my Aunt Janice got her hair cut and dyed, to make her mother feel better. My grandpa still refused us to visit anymore. My grandma had, after all, poked a knife into my Aunt Janice's shirt. If it weren't for Uncle Ricky and his quick reflexes, my Aunt would have a hole in her stomach.

My grandma is where my aunt gets her craziness, actually. They both take medication for it but seeing my Aunt Janice weeks after her beloved daughter died sent my grandmother into a wild episode.

It was a hectic day. Uncle Ricky had to grab my grandma's frail wrist and push it against the cabinet while telling us girls to run. Aunt Janice pushed Ravenna and me out first before glancing at Uncle Ricky and running to the car. Ravenna and I pushed each other in the car as we scrambled to get in, both of our eyes wide with fear. Aunt Janice got in passenger, locked the doors, and stared wordlessly at the door. 

A collective sigh of relief went through the car when Uncle Ricky ran through the front door, his old athletic days coming back as he got in the car, locked the door and flew down the street. We were informed by our grandpa that good-ole grams was in the hospital and being watched over.

Hence the reason we don't visit much anymore. When we do, we only get to see our grandpa--or actually, Aunt Janice does. Ravenna and I still give our grandmother cookies as she sits in her bed, eyes numbly staring at the TV screen. We all knew grandma was going to go crazy one day, and her daughter dying was enough to do it. I can imagine how she felt.