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"Skin" Part 6
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Posted by Logan the Lobotomizer on: 09:26 AM, 10/12/18
I woke up from a dreamless slumber still feeling sick. I had one glaring question swimming around in my mind. Was what I saw last night real? It looked real, smelt, and tasted real, but it couldn’t have been real. I knew being at home should have put me at ease, but it didn’t..

“Tommy, it’s time for breakfast." Mom called.

I walked into the kitchen Mom, Dad, and Stacey; were sitting around the table.

Mom poured me a bowl of cereal and handed it to me. “We’re going to have to eat fast so; we can each get into the shower, and get to Grandpa's wake on time.”

Dad swallowed a mouthful of cereal. “What time is the wake?”
                         
Mom raised her eyebrows. “It's at ten, why?” She pursed her lips; her eyes bulged out of her skull knowing what he was going to say.

Dad's face turned as red as an apple. “I’m going to try to get a few hours in at the store.”

“No!” Mom flipped her cereal bowl sending milk and bits of debris everywhere. “I’m tired of you putting that store before everything else! I just lost someone very close to me, and all you can do is think of yourself ?!” She stood over Dad the veins in her neck pulsated specks of spit flew from her mouth hitting Dad in the face.

“Stwop fighting!” Stacey cried. She fled from the table and ran upstairs to her room.

Dad’s arms were stretched out in front of him defensively. “Okay… I’ll stay here.”

Mom took a deep breath then exhaled. “We all need to start getting ready now, Tommy help your sister get ready, I'm going to get in the shower."

I grabbed Stacey by her hand and led her to her room. She sat on the bed while I removed clothes from her dresser.

"Why dowesn't Dwaddy love us? I fweel like he loves the stowre more than us." Stacey said.

I placed her clothes next to her. "He loves us. He just doesn't show it like he should." I didn't know what to say. At three years old she had hit the nail on the head. Dad did love the store more than anything or anyone else. Once the shower was free, Stacey went in, then I went into my room and got my clothes out.

I could hear Dad downstairs talking to himself. "Ungrateful, everyone is ungrateful. I work myself raw to the bone and this is how I'm treated? I need a smoke." The front door slammed.

Stacey finished,  I quickly showered, then Dad showered. When everyone was ready we got into the car. During the drive, Mom kept sneering at Dad every time he glanced at her. Stacey’s eyes were still red and puffy; she spent the ride looking downward; not speaking to anyone. Grandma was waiting outside the funeral home. She held a balled up tissue in her hand, her nose dripped with snot, and her face was drenched with tears.

“Gandma!” Stacey rushed at Grandma and wrapped her arms around her.
 
Mom wrapped her arms around her too. “Are you ready?”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be Jenny.” Grandma said.

We formed the condolence line inside. "Family" I have never seen before had filled the place. Everyone was crying, but I felt nothing. Grandpa was the person that loved me more than my father, and I felt nothing. I don't know why I didn't feel anything I wanted to cry, but for some reason I couldn't. The only familiar faces were Mr. Williams and Lilly. He and Lilly weren't their happy, upbeat selves I saw at the picnic. A frown stretched across Mr. Williams' face his eyes looked to be a deeper shade of blue, he dragged his feet when he walked.

He embraced Mom. “I’m so, sorry Jenny.” He embraced the rest of us one by one and expressed his condolences.

Lilly hugged me. "If you ever need someone to talk to me I'm here for you."

There was a table with a blue cloth covering it; candles were scattered all over the table, right next to the coffin.
The candles waxy vanilla smell permeated the room. I tried not to look at Grandpa. He was as pale as the little girl on the tricycle I saw on the first night I stayed at my grandparents' house. It didn’t look like he was dead, It looked like he was sleeping, his eyes began to move as if he were trying to open them. His lips curled up into a grin.

I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Mr. Williams tripped and knocked the candles over, catching the tablecloth on fire.
He tried to fan the flames.The smell of burnt fabric offended my olfactory immediately. Giving me a headache and causing me to feel sick. I massaged my temples in a attempt to ease the pain, but the smell kept growing stronger.The funeral director hosed the table with an extinguisher.

Mom walked over to me. “Are you okay?”

“Skin.” A voice said.

“No, no, no.” I cried.

I looked up to see Grandpa sitting up in his coffin. “Skinnnnn.” Blood gushed from his neck wound.

I pointed at the coffin. “He’s… he’s alive.”

“What?” Mom bit her lower lip, and there was a hint of worry in her eyes.

 Dad just gawked at me like everyone else. Looking at me as if I were some sort of  freak or idiot.

Stacey rushed at the coffin. “Gandpa, he’s alive.”

“Stacey come back.” Mom called after her.

I blinked my eyes and Grandpa was no longer sitting up. Mom sat us down, the rest of the wake was a blur and so was the funeral. As we left Dad apologized for my outburst, he didn’t care about me; he only cared about what others thought of us. When we got home, I headed straight to my room without saying a word to anyone.

I could hear Mom and Dad talking downstairs.

"What is wrong with that kid?" Dad asked.

"Stop, Bill, I just want to try and have a peaceful night and go to bed. Please don't start any trouble." Mom said.

"He doesn't act right, Jen."

"How do you expect him to act?"

"Not like that..."
 
“Tommy it’s time for dinner.” Mom called.

“I’m not hungry.” I said.

“Tommy, your mother made a meal get down here and eat this instant.” Dad demanded

I didn’t respond. Rage filled me and boiled over, Dad didn’t care, he was pretending to care. I was fed up and rushed down the stairs filled with anger. Mom and Stacey were sat at the dinner table cutting into their steaks while Dad was rooting around in the fridge for something.

I marched over to the fridge and slammed the door on him. "You don’t care about me. The only thing you care about is the store, and you treat everyone and everything else like a inconvenience. You didn't even ask me how I was when I came home from the hospital. At the wake when I was freaking out you didn't even try to check on me. You apologized for my outburst to people that don't even care about us."

Dad's face became as red as dragon's flames. He delivered a hard slap to my cheek. "I work my ass off for you! I apologized for your outburst because you made an ass out of yourself in front of the whole family."

Mom quickly got up from her seat and got in between us. "Bill, let him be!"

He pushed her to the ground and she landed with a heavy thud. "Stay out of this cow!"

I felt something burning through me; it spread through my entire body, I felt like I was on fire and my heart was about to explode. The hot pain spread across my face like fire through a forest. "Bullshit! You only work for yourself."

 "You better watch your tongue boy!" 

"Fuck you."

He punched me in the face, knocking me to the ground, and splitting my lip open. The taste of copper filled my mouth and blood rolled down my chin.

He crouched down in front of me so he was face level with me. His eyes were filled with hate like the eyes of a bull that's seen red or the eyes of a rattle snake. "Any other comments?"

I spat a gooey red glob in his face. "Fuck you." He could have killed me and it wouldn't have even mattered. In fact, I wanted him to.

Mom got up from the floor and forced herself in between my father and I. "Bill stop or I'm calling the cops."

Dad stood up. "Fine." He walked away.

Mom helped me to my feet. "Let's get you cleaned up." She walked me to the bathroom and cleaned me up then sent me to bed.

I drifted off to sleep. A few hours later I woke up feeling a pressure in my bladder. On the way to the bathroom, I could hear Mom and Dad talking from their room.

“He needs help, Bill.” Mom said.

“I want to send him to boot camp.” Dad said.

“He needs therapy, Bill.”

“He needs someone to straighten him out."

"His grandfather just died, he's obliviously not dealing with this well, I'm setting up with my therapist I used to see. Have some consideration and empathy for someone else besides yourself for once."

"Fine. We'll try therapy first."

I quickly finished in the bathroom. Then went back to bed wondering what was in store for me.











« Last Edit: 09:48 AM, 05/11/19 by Logan96 »




 

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