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daughterofhel · 2 years

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It’s been over a decade.

Then a cat rang the bell at that hour things always seem to happen at.

The dream that night saw her as if she’d been stuck and waiting. Crying in the shell of a home.

More than ten years. This dream didn’t feel like a dream. Not like that.

Knelt down in front of her, took her hands. Spoke to her.

Whole area turned back to light. Life. We were talking like normal. I was being teased as I helped carry things into the garage.

Was woken way too early. No time for questions. No time to bask in seeing her again. Actually seeing a smile.

I knew I was right to do it, sign the paper. Wasn’t given a choice, actually. But taking a life isn’t supposed to be easy even if they’re dying. I was half heartedly comforted by the fact there were loved ones they were waiting for on the other side, whatever that may be.

Still didn’t make the clear choice easy. Not her soft admittance to her clear friend overheard by me of how tired she was of always hurting. Of how much she missed certain people she never recovered from losing.

I knew it when she didn’t come back within a week she wouldn’t be coming home.

Hospital chairs aren’t that cozy but I spent the few days I could get off work there. We only spoke on the very first minute of the first day I arrived.

I think about the events that led to that. The half seizing and wheezing and clear pain and mini violent thrashing. How she fought me against calling the ambulance. How I ran and bloodied my feet to the neighbors to get help. The hushed talking. Careful talking. The sweat.

She only agreed to go if she was still bothered by sun up. I knew for a fact she’d fight so hard she’d risk worse things if I went against her wishes. So I laid in bed next to her and stared at the clock. Jerking in panic any time it seemed she stopped breathing. When her foot shook too much and I needed to know she wasn’t choking. She kept refusing to leave. To let me do anything before the sun rose. I still don’t know just why. Thankfully it was summer so the sun was only a few hours away.

I held her hand when I could. It was so long. I was so tired having not been asleep long from a night shift. I can’t even recall what random fic I had pulled open to keep myself awake between monitoring her and my own panic.

Our neighbor kept me updated as my boss kept me busier than I really wanted to be.

She had to keep being saved almost every step of the process of trying to help her. Things were failing. Heart attacks in the middle of shit. If it could go wrong it went wrong. Talks of amputation were mentioned but they didn’t even think she’d survive it before they finished the job.

Dialysis was mentioned as a needed thing too. They were grim in relaying it’s chances. Her mother went through that. I knew she was extremely against it. Made me promise years ago that we would never let that happen to her. And

She was tired.

So it took not even a minute to know how this would end. But still those days sleeping in the chair, dealing with the rest of the family. Realizing they were going to make me sign the paper.

I wasn’t even allowed to stay until the end.

It wasn’t like the movies. Sure. They removed the tube. But she didn’t just pass on. It was slow. Agonizingly slow. Hear breathes sounded even more ragged and harsh and in full on pain. It outraged, kept asking for a strong dosage for her. She was a hypochondriac for most of her life. I’m sure whatever they used wasn’t strong enough to effect her as it should. Clearly it wasn’t! Of course I just got ran around and dismissed.

And so we sat. Listening to her weaken in a way I wish I didn’t recall. It bothered me so much. Her friend randomly burst into tears. A lone friend swung by to wish her well. I wasn’t allowed to cry there. If you knew my father…

So I had to suppress it. Choke and wait.

But then he just sent us all home. Wanted to be left alone with his mother. None of us were allowed to stay.

I got driven home, no state to take the bike. I did cry myself to sleep on the couch. In her spot. I barely slept when my father returned and insisted I clear her room out.

I got to argue to sleep some first. For once he was too tired to fight on it. But I wasn’t very awake when it was time to clean up her things. He made me go through it all so fuckin fast. I didn’t really get time to see what.. I’d like to have kept. I did my best to keep the photos she held dear at the very least.

I kept her little bird cups too. She’s always been so fond and proud of them. It wasn’t even lunch time before the room was basically scrubbed clean of her existence.

Her friend who tentatively swung by to ask if they may have a shirt or a bag was shocked when I shared that it wasn’t there anymore. Donated. It was hard. I cried more later. More when dad was for sure not around.

And it’s been a decade now. Or nearly. I cannot keep the time straight anymore.

So the dream shocked me.

But what’s got me the most baffled was what happened just before the dream. The thing that has me half convinced it wasn’t a fuckin dream.

At 3:24am. An hour popular for shit to happen. I was shutting down my game system for the night when I heard the gate bell ring.

I rushed down since I knew my mother in law was in the kitchen. And would absolutely open that fuckin door.

And I was correctly. She nearly had it unlocked and open.

I stopped her. Afraid. No person could surly mean well at this hour. It could be a trap. If someone is hurt I would help but first I needed to see what was up.

Becuase I was gaming just moments before, I actually had my glasses on.

And there. On the gate pillar, sat a cat. One I’ve never seen in this neighborhood. Staring directly at me. Sitting. Calmly. Looking at the dark house almost unmoving. The shadows and lighting gave me no hint of the color or pattern or anything. Just a cat shape. A slow moving tail. A single ear flick. And it odd as shit sitting on that gate faced right at me unmoving.

And this got to me. As I thought of a calico. And I’ve know a couple calicos. But only one lean. Her cat. Originally his before he died of overdose and they moved in with me. This hand raised kitten that aged well and passed on in our home many many years later. The one we had to bury that I wrapped in one of my favorite Scooby blankets. She picked a spot in the house that was in the middle of everyone. Her room. My couch. The stairs up to dads room. Her perfect resting spot was between us all. It felt only right to give her something special to me to rest her old kitty bones in.

A funny. Sweet. Stubborn old lady. Didn’t want to like me when she first arrived. But she got her claw stuck in the carpet. I unhooked carefully. She was not amused. But then seconds later she got caught again. I once more carefully freed her. Finally. She acknowledged I wasn’t half bad. Our friendship grew rapidly from there.

She made her happy. And I finally had a pet! An old lady pet with quite an expressive way of things. I knew it broke her heart so much more than mine when that cat finally passed on.

And it’s funny to say it. But. I feel like. Somehow. Someway. That cat on the gate the other night. Sitting in a country literally oceans apart from that house we built and she was buried near, was her cat.

So it wasn’t really a surprise I had a dream about her.

Dreams I get. But this?

Hit different.

I can’t recall the dream itself. But I realize now I was younger. The same age of when she was still here.

The house was alive again even. Sun bright, house full of friends. Excitedly chatting with them, sharing the house and things to a new delighted friend who was laughing.

And suddenly it was late night. Empty. The house gutted as we left it. No power for a light.

And there was crying. Hard defeated crying. Scared. Lonely.

And I looked over near the door and saw her there on the bench. Face in hands. Sobbing.

I knew instantly it was her. And strode up to her, knelt in front and took her hands. I can’t remember what I said. It was only a few words. Reassuring.

The moon suddenly was the sun. The life and glow of the house returned. It was full again. And she was laughing at me. Teasing. Insisting I help moved these zipped up pillows into the garage with me. I was good-naturely playing along to her teasing, tossing my own repose over my shoulder as she followed before I was ripped awake.

I didn’t get to really talk with her. I didn’t get to confirm what I needed.

I felt like. Somehow. When she died. She was trapped. Not but a few years after she died our place was repossessed. Something we knew was coming but had managed to avoid for a while. (Greed and a broken promise is the short end of that unrelated story).

I woke and I. I feared that woman had been there. All this time. Stuck. And now alone. For years.

And I don’t even know if I helped. I don’t know if by connecting with her and dragging her into a happy scene that means she’s okay. That it got better. I haven’t a clue if it’s just all some wild speculation.

But it hit me. And bothered me so fucking much.

I can not even recall how many years it has been since I’ve cried this hard. Startled my wife to be sure.

I couldn’t stop. When I thought it was over. I found myself doing it again even harder.

I didn’t even find the means to speak it. I eventually texted my wife later what it was was about. Throat swelled too much for speaking. Head ached so much. Eyes hurt so much. Total misery.

She at first it thought it was the thing about friends again. I only shook my head this time. She ended up crying with me for a time, the softie. I felt bad for that.

The timing sucked so fuckin hard too.

The next day we had a party to get to for our mutual only friend here in the flesh. It was a nice distraction. Good to see people having fun. I hadn’t hung out with folks like that in almost five years. Of course we get home and showered and before I can escape the kitchen where I was stealing some tea, my least favorite guy comes over. And I hide. I was so caught off guard and was so burnt out from the dream and tears then the whole ass party and large group of that day, I just wasn’t prepared.

I sat in the kitchen for a long while. More than once seriously nearly jumped out the window to avoid cross paths and having to speak at all with this guy. My way of keeping the peace to the idiot. Unfortunately it was somehow also his birthday. Of fuckin course it was.

And I was being looked down on by my mother in law for not rushing off to wish him a happy birthday.

The guy not only insulted our labor we did for him and my wife’s sister, his girlfriend, but he insulted my fuckin wife. I can ignore cheating is out of most of our pay as well as insulting and belittling our work as an added excuse to avoid paying. Cuz he’s that kind of cheap prick. But insulting my wife if not something I can or will stand. I’m not cordial at all. I don’t bother to even fake it. I’ve straight up avoided interaction with him as I know I’ll fucking say or do something.

My wife understands this. We’ve agreed it’s the best idea really. Cuz I am not one to mince words. He’s a skittish fool who is self centered and I’ve no respect for him nor any understanding of the attraction outside his mug. But it’s for some reason the guy my sister in law bought a house with. So I’ve got to be somewhat.. cordial. And I’ve done that by just straight up not being around him.

Without saying a single word about it she seems to know this well enough that the rare outings we all go on he is often busy elsewhere. This no vax paranoia idiot almost got a chair to the face. Luckily his family bullied him enough into getting the shot. He thought the doctors were hiding secrets and was waiting for the real vax or some batshit nonsense. Dunno anymore his long winded reason for ‘waiting’.

He insulted the woman I love. Insulted her in all her hard work and kindness. All the free labor and help we provided. Perhaps I am too severe as it’s been said by the wife about my opinions on people. But there are just a few things you cross you don’t backpedal from easily.

This is one of them.

So it was super fuckin awful ton of only suddenly, in a vulnerable burnt out state, suddenly be faced with this guy in our home. But to realize I’d have to speak to him on top of that. That I couldn’t escape to our room.

My mother in law thought I was rude as hell and kept coming into the kitchen loudly asking if I had said happy birthday yet as I ate some sliced peach and pecorino in the kitchen, quiet as can be.

Each time she did this the whole house got quiet and I wanted even more to jump out the window. If my wife hadn’t been sitting in the room I would have. I would have, towel and all, gone to the fields and waited.

I eventually did slip upstairs at her urging and give a muttered happy birthday and half wave as I made my way upstairs to FINALLY law down.

No one (minus my wife) even spoke to me and I avoided dinner entirely.

It’s been a day since then. And things settled.

But now I’ve got to go to this fuckin pool. I don’t really like pools so much. The beach? Yeah. I can keep my distance better there and the waters just. Better than a tight jar of chlorine and urine.

But my wife’s excited about it. Going with two of her sisters and both our nephews.

I’m so stressed though about it I’m typing hear instead of sleeping. Migraine coming on and we leave in three hours. Not once could sleep. Restless. I’ve already maxed out my crowd card right now. I’ve already had the most stressful fuckin dream in so many fuckin years. Still bothering me. Was busy prepping food for a party the entire day, the next helping cook and make drinks so I would socialize in short bursts instead of stuck awkwardly trying to hold conversations for too long a time. In a trade of my broken Italian and their English. Not that I mind. But I do stress at how slow my learning is going.

Coming hhome from hours of that to showering with the promise of relaxing to suddenly that fuckin guy and situation just. Fucked me up and I can’t even put it into words.

I did some work today as it seems everyone’s actually doing that again now. Of course when I’m at my fuckin lowest and can’t even communicate. Once more wearing any fragile bit of relation I have with the few who bother even a little.

And now not even a breather and it’s to a crowded place with way more people in a bathing suit I’m not even happy to wear right now, for what’s promised to be about 4-5 hours before getting home to wash and just. God. Pass the fuck out.

I didn’t even have the energy to prep myself something to eat. Just taking drinks for the kids and some sliced fruit. Her sisters making something but she never makes anything I like. I extra doubt it now considering that interaction with her boyfriend the day before. Not looking forward to potentially being confronted and having her talk to me to figure out ‘what my deal is’ if she tries it. Or. Possibly. Asks me to just pretend and be nice.

Im not being shitty. And im being rude or nasty. Im just. Not acknowledging the guy. And it’s not a loss to anyone anyway? He’s your guy.

I don’t want any drama and I see this pool trip as a possible one. Worse if I don’t go.

My wife is so excited to go to this stupid fuckin thing. This pool has a few silly things im sure will be fun. And im sure being with my nephews and seeing my wife happy with her a nice time.

That doesn’t make me any happier about the ass timing of all of this.

Im going even though I already know I’m gonna have a migraine from just how I feel now.

I love her. And I’d rather cut out my tongue little by little with a shaving razor than go today. But she wants me to go. And I know it’ll hurt her if I don’t. So im tired. Unable to sleep. Day four or whatever of high stress no pause. Desperate already for the day to be over as I know im gonna be using so much energy to play the part I need to play to keep her from being sad. She does so much for me constantly. I literally just have to go. So. Im bitching here. Quietly. Where it’ll effect nothing.

I know I’m a piece of shit for being this way. For fussing so much over something like this. Making it a big deal. It isn’t. Im sure it’s also the high stress im feeling from taking the summer job coming up again. The one I hated entirely and told her to swear she’d never let me take again. Im not being useful right now so I didn’t feel like I had a choice to turn down the job when they came back to me.

Realistically I don’t have a reason other than how shitty organized and under funded the whole bullshit thing was. Some of the kids could be a little taxing but I manage it well enough. It’s the higher ups that suck ass. It’s all the restrictions. It’s the +30 kids and four balls, paper, and markers only that stress me out. Two weeks with just those? It’s a camp. Why so much time for worksheets? Ones I must find and print even. They can’t do this they can’t do that. Fuck why bother then! We should be having fun! The kids should be doing more activities but there’s only so much to be done with so little given and so many restrictions set up in place.

Do I make it work anyway? Each time yeah. Of course. But it’s so bad the only other two people there nearly quit more than once so I was frantically doing their jobs ahead of time each night and planning more mixed group stuff so they’d just stay. Stay until the end.

I don’t know how bad it’ll be this time. But I know where it’ll be. The worst place of the places I worked. Add that on top of this heatwave and drought. I’m gonna be fighting heatstroke in so many children while trying to keep my coworkers sane and everyone entertained for about 5-6 hours a day minus clean up and set up time with the tables and chairs and such.

I just feel. Stressed. I can’t help it.

I want to convince myself it’s okay to play a game at home. And relax. But her sister insisted we go to the pool today. And it’s one my wife is excited for.

I’m half jokingly hoping for a car to hit me. We will see I guess.

On the plus side, dad and grandpa got grandpas will signed today. So the risk of my step grandmother having grandpa killed has gone down quite a lot.

She’s quite selfish and he’s more than once carefully asked for a little bit of HIS money to buy himself food that she sometimes fucking refuses! He. Goes. Without. EATING! For her fucking greed!

Found out not too long ago that the property and house grandpa has and has worked on, are all under her name. Has been from the start, she insisted. He had to fight recently to get his name in there. She only agreed finally when she had him put in her will that her shitty son would get the place.

To give you an idea about THAT guy, from his first marriage, he has two kids. This guy spends so much time in jail for drug related things. Forging checks. Robbery. You name it. This dunce has likely tried and failed it. Anyway. Grandpa once took the little girls on a road trip during the summer and they stopped to eat, like you do. And they didn’t leave the camper. Grandpa asked what they were doing and these two tiny little girls said they were waiting. When grandpa pressed they finally told him that when they go out with their dad he has them wait in the car when he eats. Doesn’t even bring them any food. Just makes them wait until he is done.

Just. You know. To give you a small fuckin idea of this asshole. Now my step grandma is able to turn on the charm where needed. And is noticeably nicer with women in the ‘men as tools and otherwise terrible’ kind of way. I’m as gay as it gets but I’ve not once ever felt that way about anyone, guy or not.

I think she wasn’t fully faking her kindness to me when I spent that half school year with her. But I do know it was highly money motivated. Still the nicest place I stayed in growing up. She talked to me after all.

But she’s also grown nastier in person as she has gotten older. I hate how she treats me grandpa. She’s sold his MEDICINE for money for her cigs and scratch off tickets. Not mild medicine either!!

Plus grandmas son tried to hurt my grandpa before too! The nice old man, grumpy, who only ever minds himself and works hard. Dad absolutely told that guy he’d hunt him down and kill him if he ever heard he did anything to his father, of course. Guys currently in jail right now again for god knows what this time. So not a threat at this exact second anyway.

Anyhow. When dad got wind of this deed and will business he and grandpa secretly redrafted grandpas will. But grandpa had to wait for dad to be there in person to go and do the stuff with. Grandpa wasn’t gonna go notarize it on his own for some reason or another. So we had a whole month or more of waiting. Hoping to god grandma didn’t learn of this.

The same woman who, after seeing all the beautiful hand made and carved wooden furniture and toys grandpa made, decided when she couldn’t be bothered with it taking up space or even trying to sell it, she just fuckin burned it.

If this woman. Whose sold his literal work trucks. Who has ruined his lungs due to her not believing in secondhand smoke and refusing to even just smoke outside. Whose lied about bills for years to give herself even more spending money. This man whose barely home, often away working as long as it the sun is up, rarely asking for his own cash for food or new socks.

Dad tries what he can when we visit. Take grandpa out to nice places to eat. Hand him cash to hide away for emergency use. Get him new tools or clothes.

I’m convinced with his poor age and even poorer aged body, Nevermind his severely depressed outlook with his sisters dropping like flies and a wife cold to him, he won’t last very long. But I’m almost certain that if she finds out about him changing the will, he will ‘suddenly’ have an accident before it gets official.

I have no doubt one way or another my grandfather will die if she finds out.

So for all this time I’ve been dreading the news. Dreading the chance she come across that info. Paper. A slip in conversation with grandpa. Anything.

But dad finally made it back to grandpa a couple days ago. And they got the papers official. So one small battle is fought. I wish for grandpa to have a comfortable life but I cannot provide it and dad does what he can. Honestly. One of my last living relatives from dads side is about to go. And I’m not ready for it at all. But. At least perhaps he will get to go naturally without his cruel wife being the cause. Without her son or his friends harming him.

When grandpa goes a new nightmare will happen with very little time to waste.

She will for sure try to sell any and everything single thing she can. And dads gonna fight her on it cuz there’s tools he and I both want to keep. I think I’m in the will too to be honest. I am unsure.

When that woman realizes that will exists, consequences be damned, I half wonder if she will try to sell everything and run. Or if she’ll just burn everything to the ground so we all loose. I hope her selfishness pans out and she doesn’t burn the home my grandpa built. I hope she can’t sell things fast enough. Frankly she’d probably give it away before she’d let my father have something she’s decided is hers.

I’m not looking forward to this shit show. I’m not looking forward to dad possibly getting hurt by an enraged old lady with a gun. With a son with terrible friends who would also do something. I do half expect an ambush. I expect so much bullshit and bad news. And I’m. Not ready for it.

On the other side moms in and out of the hospital along with my half siblings. No one’s doing well mentally in that house hold. Especially after her mother passed on this year. (It’s. Been something.). I’m just. So tired.

I don’t know where to look. I feel like I’m drowning half the time. And all I can do it just watch myself as I do.

And yet life goes on. And everyone wants you to smile. Cuz they’re miserable too. And honestly. Who wants to hear your sob story. So I’m not sharing. I’m just gonna yell into tumblr where things get lost and forgotten. And put on the mask and play the part as needed. Required.

God I wish I had a vice. I need to join tinder or some shit and try to find someone who is willing to just, just sometimes, play games with me. Set up some ad. I’ll pay. Genuinely. Pay someone to just spend a few hours sometimes to play video games with me. They don’t even have to talk to me or pretend anything at all. They can leave as soon as the clock hits zero. I just want for even a short while to pretend someone likes my company and wants to hang out.

My wife is lovely but she’s not a gamer. And she’s busy studying which I wholeheartedly get and we try to be a de stresser where we can for each other.

But I’d still like a friend. Even if it’s a paid one for a scant few hours on the occasion. I don’t have vices. I like to game. But I’m not really fun to hang around. Which. I understand. I’ll figure out how to place the ad. For better or worse I may find someone or two willing. Not holding my breath but god it would be nice. Just so nice. Knowing that for sure someone would. And that they’d come back to play again. I feel like that little span of time would just. Do wonders for my well-being. And. So. I’ll pay. I just. Hope it works out. I’ve already tried less popular dating apps with the wife’s help to find online gaming friends. Didn’t really work.

I am tired.

But. I’m trying. At least I still feel like fighting the drowning instead of swimming deeper. Small victories.

#void screaming #void venting #ignore

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