haunted dreams, stages of grief
Nat gets home late, the living room dim except for the tv’s flicker.
Her mom crashed out on the couch with an empty bottle of cheap wine clutched in her limp hands.
She sighed, leaning her skateboard against the wall.
She went over to her mom and peeled the bottle out of her hands, covered her with a blanket and shut off the tv.
She tidied what she could without waking her mom up and head to her room, not before she peaked into Alex’s room to find her cuddled up with Rory.
Nat’s chest caved, guilt clawing up her throat. It hit her, Alex wanted her out of the house so she won’t see her mom drink herself blind everyday, but Nat hasn’t considered how Alex felt, or even Rory. Sure he went to daycare and playdates but it scared her to think he could see their mom that way—bottle in hand, gone.
She crawled into bed, her mind plagued with thoughts she tried hard to keep buried down. Tears stung her eyes and she swallowed hard, she dropped her head into her pillow, begging sleep to take over so she doesn’t have to face her reality. Her last few waking thoughts are swarmed with her family.
Nat woke up the next morning, realizing she’d slept in her jeans and shoes. She was curled up on top of her covers, and it’s so early, the sun is barely out. She kicked off her shoes and made her way to the bathroom, where she ran into Alex. “Morning,” Alex mumbled with a mouthful of toothpaste.
Nat grunted and sat on the toilet, peeing. One bathroom, no privacy, old habit. Nat flushed and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up. She watched Alex getting ready for work.
“You need to stop indulging mom’s drinking.” Nat said, voice low, dreading it.
Alex froze for a moment, then continued her routine without as much of a look at Nat’s direction, “Stay out of this, bug.”
Nat scrutinized her sister’s face, “she’s drinking herself to sleep. Every. Single. Day.”
“I’m managing it-“
“She doesn’t eat, she’s always asleep-“
“I’ve got it, Nat, back off-“
“And what’s worse, is you providing her with alcohol, whenever she wants it-“
“I know what I’m doing!!” Alex snapped. She shut her eyes, sighing, “ I know what I’m doing, Nat, okay? You just stay out of this.”
Nat shook her head, “no, you don’t get to talk to me like I’m Rory’s age,” Nat demanded but it came across as begging. “Why do I have to stand by and watch mom waste away? Why can’t we do something?”
Alex finally looked at Nat, and her eyes were watery, “what do you want me to do, Nat?” She asked, looking Nat in the eyes. “Remember when dad died? How hard those first few weeks were? How she’d cry day and night? How manic she was, trying to get him back? Do you want her to go back to that?”
Nat remembered how tragic that time was, Rory was barely two years old, Alex would send them over to their neighbors house most days just so she can deal with their mom. The fights and the screaming and mom threatening them and her delusions, she couldn’t handle facing reality.
Nat stepped closer to Alex. “She needs help, rehab or something, she can’t stay like this, it’s not any better than how it was.”
Alex shrugged, “we don’t have that kind of money, and I can’t cut her off, even if that’s what you think is best, she’ll suffer from withdrawals and god knows what she’ll do..”
Nat placed her hands on Alex’s shoulders, “we have to try, Al, she’s gonna drink herself dead.” Nat swallowed the lump in her throat, saying what had been on her mind out loud was scary, and Alex’s wide eyes said she knew it too.
Alex cupped Nat’s face in her hands, she was two inches taller than Nat, “we will, eventually, but for right now, you let me handle this okay?” Nat looked at Alex pleadingly. “I promise, Bug. I won’t ignore it.” Nat nodded her head, scared that if she spoke she’ll break down and cry, something she hasn’t done in quite some time.
Nat killed the water, abandoning the idea of a shower.
She left Alex to finish getting ready, she head to the kitchen and made a grilled cheese for herself and Rory, who is heading to daycare with Alex.
Nat is in a daze, she watched as her sister fumbled with the coffee pot. She watched Rory munch on his breakfast, smearing cheese on his shirt. She watched her sister put on her work shoes and she helped Rory put on his. She waved them goodbye and watched them leave for the day.
Then she went to the living room and watched her mom sleep, her heart sinking further and further.
She needed a distraction.
She started cleaning the living room, picking up bottles left and right, wiping surfaces and emptying the trash cans. She needed to cleanse their house of this fucking unbreathable air. She cleaned nonstop, partially for the guilt that’s been gnawing on her for years now, she always managed to ignore it but she can only hold it off for so long, now it’s everywhere.
She scrubbed the bathroom sink til her hands were numb, until she smelled of bleach. The bathroom was spotless but she still couldn’t breathe.
She changed the bedsheets, she even cleaned her room.
She hasn’t seen their house this clean in a while and it makes this pit in her stomach grow twice fold.
She cleaned everything but the couch her mother is sleeping in, an anchor she can’t escape.
Her hands were raw and her back ached and she wondered how if her mom used to clean the house on the daily when she was younger.
Her head was swarming with these thoughts, she couldn’t stand it anymore.
The house was as clean as it can get but she still felt the blood on her hands.
She grabbed her board and slammed the door shut on her way out.
Angry, she gripped the board til her nails bite wood, anything to outrun that house.
Nat skated until she was far away from the place she called home, she pulled out her phone and texted her friends, hoping someone is awake at this time. Kevyn replied, come over. And she’s so thankful she could almost kiss him.
*******
They spend their time smoking up and watching old arthouse movies that Kevyn and Van are into. Her mind won’t stop swarming. She’s rolling their fourth joint when Van joined them, and he can immediately tell she’s not in the best state.
Van flopped down on the couch, eyeing her. “Rough night?” He mumbles. Nat doesn’t say a word, just lights up, exhaling slow.
Kevyn spoke up, “where’s new girl? Shauna, right? Ditching us already?”
Nat shrugged, smoke curling up, eyes fixed on the screen—a woman staring out of a car window, blue light washing her face, silent and hollow.
“Dunno, busy maybe, seeing her tmw.” Her brain snagged-
—Dad’s kicking her mom,
Nat’s hand shaking on the shotgun,
“what are you gonna do, baby?”
His growl as he yanks it from her.
“looks like you left the safety on.”
“On, off, you see?”
“it’s perfectly okay to keep a gun in the house, if you’re kid’s too stupid to know how to use it.”
Her yell
“you’re the fucking useless one!”
—his turn,
“what the fuck did you say-“
the blast, the blood,
mom’s cries,
bottle after bottle, Nat’s fault.
Dad’s blood pooling in her head,
Rory’s shoes by the door he’d never walk through again.
-She gulped, the blue on the tv filling her vision once again, the slow hum of the mini-fridge brought her back to the basement, she felt the softness of the couch’s fabric in a grip she didn’t realize she had.
Van’s thumbs tapped quickly on his phone,
Van:
yo Shipman
we’re at Kev’s smoking
U in?
Shauna:
Be there in 10.
Kevyn stood up and stretched, grabbing a soda from his mini fridge. “She’s cool, right? Kinda quiet but chill. What’s her deal?”
“Dunno much,” Nat took a hit, begging it to erase all her thoughts. “Moved from Cali, Mom’s some big shot now. Pretty much it.” She blinked hard, passing the joint to Van—Blue Beads on the screen, the woman’s hands trembling, bleeding into her mom’s slack face. “On. Off.” Rory’s tiny shoes kicking in Nat’s head. Her nails dug into her palm.
Van grinned, trying to lighten up the mood, “are you bringing you A-game tomorrow or what? Double trouble, Nat.” He leaned back, exhaling a cloud.
Nat flipped him off, slumping deeper into the couch. “shut up, Im just swimming, not playing Romeo.” Her voice bit, but her head spun—Lottie’s grin, her soft eyes. Shauna’s smirk, her constant watching. Her dad’s blood splattered on her shoes, Friday looming like a trap she couldn’t dodge.
Shauna showed up a few minutes later, Kevyn letting her in. Jeans ripped at the knees, flannel loose over a tank. “Hey, losers,” she said, dropping onto the floor by Nat, snatching the joint from Van’s fingers mid-pass. “What’s this depressing shit?” She nodded at the screen—the woman now alone, blue tint drowning the room.
“Three Colors: Blue,” Kevyn said, grinning lazy. “Art, man. You wouldn’t get it.”
“Looks like someone died and forgot to tell her.” Shauna took a drag, eyeing Nat, she exhaled. “You good?”
Nat’s jaw clenched. “Fine, long night.” She refused to take her eyes off the screen—“On. Off.” Mom’s cries. Alex’s hands on her face burning her still.
Van’s eyes soften and he nudged Shauna, “Long night’s her excuse, give her a break, she’s just chilling.” He snagged the joint back from her, took a puff and handed it to Nat.
Shauna’s smirk tightened, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Nat.” Her voice cut, casual but sharp. Looking, wanting, digging around, fishing deeper.
Nat’s eyes finally leave the screen and she glared, hard. “Lay off, Shauna.” She snapped. Joint trembling in her fingers as she took a drag, eyes slowly finding the screen again—blue pooling in the woman’s eyes, Dad’s last snarl fading into it.
Shauna raised her hands, mock surrender, but that glint stayed in her eyes. “Touchy, huh? Just asking, don’t bite my head off.” She leaned back, watching Nat even closer now.
Van shifted uncomfortably, keeping quiet. He knew that edge in Nat’s voice, wasn’t about to poke it. Kevyn shot him a quick look but didn’t dare say anything either.
Nat’s chest tightened—Lottie’s touch, Shauna’s stare, Dad’s blood soaking the porch. She passed Kevyn the joint, muttering “Need air,” and pushed up, brushing past Shauna’s legs. She climbed the basement stairs, door creaking shut behind her, leaving the blue glow and their voices fading.
Outside she slid against the wall, the air felt too thick.
She clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing, but her chest wasn’t cooperating.
In—out. In—out.
It wasn’t working.
She tried grounding herself—pressing her nails into her palm, focusing on the damp heat, the buzz of the mosquitos. But the memory had already dug its claws into her brain, ripping through the walls she was trying hard to maintain.
—“What the fuck did you say-“
shotgun’s roar, her yell
—“You’re the fucking useless one!”
—“On. Off. You see sweetie?”
the blood she couldn’t scrub off her shoes.
Nat pressed her fists into her eyes, squeezing them shut. Folding into herself.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
The door creaked open. Nat barely registered it—Van stepping outside, how he stopped, eyes flicking to her hunched-over frame.
“Shit, Nat—hey, hey.” He crouched down, voice not loud, not sharp—just there.
Nat was rocking back and forth, gripping her knees.
“Nat, breath. Okay? You’re okay.” Van’s voice calm.
She shook her head, choking on air.
"On. Off."
"what are you gonna do, baby?"
Her body wasn’t listening. She felt lightheaded, like she might pass out.
Then—a cold press against her palm.
Her fingers instinctively curled around it, Van’s coke bottle, condensation dripping onto her skin.
“Here,” Van muttered. “Hold onto it. Just focus on how cold it is.”
Nat clung to it. Van sat beside her, not too close, not too far. Just existing in her space.
“You’re okay,” he said, soft. “Just breathe, dude. In for four, out for four.” He started counting, not demanding, just steady enough to latch onto.
Nat tried. Tried so fucking hard.
Her exhales were shaky, but eventually—eventually, they evened out.
Her pulse slowed. The ringing in her ears faded. Her dad's yell, a whisper.
She slumped back against the wall, Coke bottle still clutched in her hands.
The air felt a little less suffocating.
They sat there in the quiet, Nat’s breathing slowing down.
Van let a moment pass before speaking up again.
“You don’t have to tell me.”
Nat closed her eyes. Exhaled.
“But don’t go turning into her, okay?”
Her throat tightened.
She took one last deep breath before muttering:
“I’m not her.”
Van sighed. “I know.”
When enough time had passed, he nudged her leg with his foot. “C’mon, mosquitos are eating me alive. Plus Shauna’s gonna eat all our munchies if we don’t get inside soon.”
Nat huffed a small, exhausted laugh, “I don’t know what her deal is, she’s a menace.”
Van grinned, “well, that makes two of you.”
Nat finally looked at him. “Three of us, actually. You’re not as innocent as you believe, Kev is the only one excluded.”
He smiled at her softly, her edge is back.
Van didn’t push. Didn’t ask. Just sat there, waiting.
Nat pulled him in for a tight hug, no one got her like him. He held her close.
“Let’s go.” She sighed.
Nat’s hands were still a little shaky.
But for the first time tonight, she could breathe.
They stepped back inside, Nat rolled her shoulders, forcing herself to loosen up. Kevyn looked up at her from his spot, a lazy smile playing on his lips.
“Took you long enough.” Shauna said, barely glancing up. She was on the couch now, one leg tucked under her, scrolling through her phone.
Nat sat between her and Kevyn. “Yeah, had to talk Van out of doing arson.”
Van bowed dramatically, “thank you, my liege.” Before dropping on a beanbag.
Shauna snorted, her eyes lingering on Nat for a second too long. Nat ignored it, eyes on the screen, Buffy running around dodging the clutches of vampires. If Nat had to guess it was probably Shauna’s choice.
Nighttime came around, they’ve somehow hotboxed Kevyn’s basement and raided his mom’s fridge. Nat ate and laughed when she was supposed to. She let her friends drown out the hum inside her head. But the whole time, she could feel Shauna watching her.
Van passed out on the beanbag, snoring lightly.
Kevyn stood, stretching. “Gotta take a dump,’’ he muttered, disappearing up the stairs.
Nat barely acknowledged it, she was too high to feel the exhaustion settling into her bones.
Or the fact that Shauna, had curled up next to her, head on her shoulder.
Then Nat’s phone buzzed.
She grabbed it lazily, screen lighting up in the dark.
Shauna glanced up, just in time to see Nat’s mouth curling at the edges—small, barely there, but real. Shauna narrowed her eyes.
Then another buzz. She caught the name on the screen this time.
Lottie.
Nat staring at the message, broke out into a full smile.
Shauna clenched her jaw, looking away.
Lottie.
Of course it was Lottie.
Nat finally opened the message.
Lottie:Can’t wait for you guys to come over tmw <3
Lottie:Hope you’re ready to actually get in the pool this time… or do I need to pull you in myself?
Shauna watched as Nat hovered over the keyboard.
For a second, it seemed like she didn’t know how to respond.
Then—
Nat:depends, r u offering to make it worth my while?
She hit send.
Paused.
Then immediately locked her phone and threw it on the coffee table like it had burned her.
Shauna raised a brow but said nothing.
Nat flexed her hands, shut her eyes, ignoring the way her stomach twisted.
She wasn’t thinking about Lottie.
She wasn’t thinking about how the text was way too flirty.
She wasn’t thinking about how it was probably a bad idea.
She wasn’t cursing herself for smoking too much.
Shauna, however, was thinking about all of it.
She cursed herself for being nosy, fingers curling around the fabric of her sleeve.
She had no reason to feel this way.
No reason at all.