Since You Became a Memory
October 3, 2023
Manhattan, New York City
Kate had appeared back in her room 3 hours ago at approximately 2:39 pm EST. Only it wasn’t her room. It wasn’t even her apartment really. It was the same four walls with the bad lighting and worse paint job, but the pictures were of a different family, her posters were gone, her trophies that had been on the floor last she saw them (it was only a few seconds ago, right?) had disappeared, and her mess of a room was clean and, oh my god, this isn’t even my furniture. The same had been true for the rest of the apartment, there wasn’t even a bowl of fruit on the counter which kinda sucked cause she was still hungry (she never got to eat her orange before her mental breakdown).
It sufficed to say that the lady that got out of the bathroom right when Kate had decided to make an appearance in the living room was more than a little confused and panicked at Kate’s sudden appearance in her home.
Eric, I think someone just broke into the house!
Of course, it was all cleared up mere moments later when the husband got out of her parent’s (probably not her parent’s anymore) bedroom and told his wife that Kate wasn’t a burglar but that she was just a part of the Blip.
(You know, that doesn’t help me at all Eric because what the actual fuck is a blip? Do you mind elaborating on that a little bit?)
Long story short, she was blipped out of existence for 5 years along with half the population and it was now October 2023. Oh, and it was all because the Avengers had lost the fight between a purple grape alien and his minions. Fun.
So here she was waiting on a couch that was much nicer than the one that they had before for her father to pick her up after actually answering his phone. A miracle, right? Her mother didn’t, not so strange, but her father answering and her mom not? That was the strange part.
Mr. Eric Williams left around 3:30 to pick his son up from preschool and it was now almost six o’clock. He had gotten back about 2 hours ago, said the traffic was hell, and left his extremely confused 5-year-old son in the living room to go wash his hands. This brown-haired, brown-eyed child’s name was Brody, and Brody wasted no time in running to her (his now) room to get his legos and convincing her to build a battleship with him.
Finally, at 6:07, her father showed up. Not in the familiar dented gray sedan but in a sleek black Audi that probably cost a fortune. The Williams said their goodbyes to her (you’re welcome back anytime if you ever need anything please let us know) and Brody requested another playdate with her as soon as possible.
Kate got in the passenger seat, waving back awkwardly because the Williams couldn’t seem to stop, and watched as their old apartment building got further and further away.
Derek Bishop didn’t seem to have much to say to her on their 15-minute long car ride. He just glanced over at her every few minutes out the corner of his eye thinking he was being discreet. He kept doing this until he almost ran someone over which ended with him cursing a bit and then keeping his focus on the road.
They stopped at a building on the Upper East Side of Manhatten. Her father got out and handed the car keys to this guy in a suit before motioning for Kate to get out of the car. Kate got out, suit guy got in, and then the car was gone.
Stepping into a building on the Upper East Side was something she hadn’t done for 2 years (7 years now) , ever since father dearest lost his job and most of his money. Looks like he got it all back though. And then some.
The lobby was all gold and red and reeked of rich. So did the elevator with a million and one buttons. Her father pressed a blank one and up they went. Up and up and even further up. Until they stopped. She got out. Her father opened a door. She stood still.
(How in the world did he manage this?)
Kate was, to simply put it, looking at a rich man’s fantasy. Emphasis on man. Diamond chandelier, bar cart, fancy lounge furniture, mini-bar across from the kitchen. Basically, a rich man’s dream, in her eyes at least, was alcohol.
Derek Bishop proved that theory within the next few seconds as he wasted no time in pouring himself a whiskey from the cart and plopping down on the sofa. He hadn’t changed a bit. He had the same black hair, mud brown eyes, chubby figure. Then the lights went on (motion sensors most likely) and Kate saw the deepened crease lines on his forehead, strands of white in his hair, his fancy new suit.
He was looking at her too, just holding his glass of whiskey and looking at her. Slightly disconcerting, but reasonable for someone who hadn’t seen their daughter for 5 years. Unless you were Derek Bishop, in which case you work, you ignore, you forget every birthday and sports event and award ceremony in your kid’s life. He still looked at her though, for another solid two minutes, longer than he had since she was little.
“You haven’t changed at all.”
His tone was awed, his eyes were wide, and a smile was faint on his lips.
(This is so weird.)
“Yup.”
What more was there to say exactly? That she missed him so much over the past 5 years? That she was happy to see him? She couldn’t say anything like that. Mostly because it hadn’t been more than a few hours for her.
(Technically a couple of days, he left for his business trip the day before your birthday remember?)
“Where’s Mom?”
Silence. No answer. His eyes dimmed and his mouth became a thin line. She opened her mouth to ask again but he cut her off. He cut her off with the words she least expected because she had just seen her mom a couple of hours ago. It couldn’t have been more than that. But it had been. It had been 5 years. 1,862 days. 44,688 hours.
“Your mother is dead Kate.”
“What?”
“She died. In a car accident 5 years ago this Christmas.”
Of course, she died on Christmas. Of fucking course.
Her father stood up, setting his glass on the table next to the couch. He tilted his head towards the staircase and started going up. They were glass. They lead to a hallway with four doors. He opened one of them. They went inside.
“This is your room. There’s a bathroom over there.” He pointed to a door opposite the bed. “There should be a toothbrush and toothpaste in the cabinet over the sink.”
He took another look at me.
“Come give your dad a hug.”
When she didn’t move he walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t hug back. Her father hugging her was weird. She hadn’t done it since she was little. It felt awful. Uncomfortable. All Kate could think about was how much other people touching her was irritating and how soon he would stop.
“I promise Katie, things’ll be better from now on. I’ll be better.”
His breath smelled like alcohol.
He let go of her and left. He didn’t close the door all the way so she slammed it shut. Locked it too, just for good measure. She needed time to have her mental breakdown in peace. The second one she had today. Well, not really.
(Your last one was five years ago dumbass!)
Kate cried. Kate screamed into her pillow. Kate was so tired she went to sleep without brushing her teeth.
(He called you Katie, how dare he call you Katie! Only Mom called you Katie!)
(You’re okay Katie.)
(Don’t worry Katie.)
(You’re fine Katie.)
She was not okay. She was most certainly not fine. Her mother was dead. And the last thing she said to her was that she was cruel. The last thing she said to her was that she was not her mother.
(I love you, Mom. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry!)
Just like that, Eleanor Bishop became a memory.