About a Girl

"Why does grandma hate you daddy?" My father looked down at me with an eyebrow raised. Friday the 13th was playing in the background. It was the scene when that girl was in a boat and then all of the sudden kid Jason comes out from the water and attacks her; it always makes me laugh.

"Hate is such a strong word," he said as he pushed my bangs out of my face, "I'd like to think that she is jealous because you're all mine." He smiled down at me as he kissed my head. "Now, don't you think you should be in bed now?" I looked over at the VCR clock. 2:30am

"It's not the witching hour yet," I said with a whine.

"Doesn't matter. You know your mom doesn't like you staying up this late."

"But she's not here." He ignored me as he picked me up from the floor and began to carry me to my room. "I'm not tired," I pouted as he set me down on the bed.

"Then make yourself tired." He placed my Jack Skellington blanket over me and began to tuck me in. "G'night." He started to turn away when my hand grabbed onto his.

"Sing." I tried to give him my best puppy dog face. He smiled and sat himself on the edge of my bed.

"What do you want me to sing?" His bear like hand rested on my forehead as my little hand gripped at his arm. He was better that any security blanket.

"Angel," I grinned widely at him.

"You and your 70s music," he laughed as he began to tickle me.

"Stop daddy," I yelled between giggles.

"If I sing will you go to sleep," he said as he continued to tickle me.

"Yes," I shouted over my laughs.

"Good girl." I tried to catch my breath as he ran his hand through my hair. I hated being so ticklish. After my breathing evened he began to sing.

Angel came down from heaven yesterday
She stayed with me just long enough to rescue me
And she told me a story yesterday

I smiled as he softly sang. It's not like he had the best voice ever. If anything he was a horrid singer, but his deep voice always lulled me to sleep.

About the sweet love between the moon and the deep blue sea
And then she spread her wings high over me
She said she's gonna come back tomorrow

His voice gave me a sense of comfort. He said that when I was jsut a baby he'd always sing me to sleep. His favorite songs to sing were The Cure, but as I grew older and I began liking my own music, I'd make him sing whatever song was on my mind. Each song he sang he'd always find a way to fit it in into our lives or at a moment in our lives. It was like the best way he could communicate with me was through lyrics.

And I said, "Fly on my sweet angel,
Fly on through the sky,
Fly on my sweet angel,
Tomorrow I'm gonna be by your side

"Daddy please don't say that," I choked out through my sobs. "I'm not leaving you." We were no longer in my room on my bed. The wall behind my dad was a bright blue, a stark contrast to the blood that covered it. I reached out a hand to my dad's cheek. He wasn't warm. He's always warm.

Fly on my sweet angel

I shook my head and tears fell from my eyes. I was on my knees holding my dad's cold hand. His grip was tight, he's still holing on.

Fly on through the sky

His voice was shaky. His deep voice no longer existed. It came out in a raspy whisper.

Fly on my sweet angel

Angel. He always said I was his angel, but I'm not an angel. Angels are supposed to be guardians. They're supposed to help people and keep those they love protected. You're sitting in his blood.

Tomorrow I'm gonna be by your side

"You're already by my side," I choked out. "You promised me you'll never leave." My sobs had grown more violent. I could barely breathe. I had to keep wiping my eyes because my tears clouded my vision of my dad.

"I love you," he smiled. It looked painful.

"I love you daddy." His grip on my hand loosened and his eyes slowly drooped. "No." I brought his hand to my cheek. I felt something warm smear across my cheek. "No." I closed my eyes. I couldn't breathe anymore. "No." I felt myself fall to my side, but it didn't hurt. I was numb. "NO." My vision was turning black. There was a ringing in my ear. "NO!"

I felt something hit my head. "What th-" I realized I was on the floor laying face down. I shakily pushed myself up and sat against the side of the bed. My head was throbbing. I brought my hand up to my forehead and felt a bump right above my eyebrow. Fuck!

It was dark around me. It took me a moment to realize that I was still in the room Erik led me to. I brought my knees to my chest and splayed my fingers across my face. I was sweating and my breathing was uneven. I haven't had one of those dreams in over a year. Finally sick of the floor I picked myself up and looked around the room. My eyes landed on the clock on the beside table. That's where I hit my head. 9:25pm

I saw my suitcase at the end of the bed. I quickly ran over to it and opened it. I searched for my pills. I took two Xanax's dry. Maybe that's why I was having that dream again. I haven't gone to sleep without some kind of pill in my system for three years now. My pills made me feel numb. They helped my mind stop thinking about the past and focus on the numbness that it so dearly held onto. Without them my mind dreams and thinks and...There I go thinking again.

I looked towards the door on the right side of the room. Light was seeping through the bottom. That must be the way into the hallway. Or maybe Narnia. I rolled my eyes at myself and my stupid joke. You get to Narnia through a closet. I walked over to the door and opened it slowly and walked into a hallway. It was dark and the only source of light was coming from around a corner. Must be the living room. I quietly walked over and started hearing voices.

"All of you realize that if she's found before she's 18, you all will be sent to jail or prison for child abduction." I recognized the voice belonged to Erik and Emil's cousin. What was his name? Craig? Kevin? Krist. Yes, Krist.

"Of course we fucking realized that." I heard Alex say defensively to Krist.

"And you still took her in?" His tone was of aversion.

"Look, we know we're treading dangerous waters, but...Fuck, I really don't know how to explain it. She fits in with this band like a glove, better than our old bass player. And sure she may be a bit young and distant still, but..."

"She's sounds fucking mental from the way you described her!" I heard Krist shout. I felt myself make fists. Asshole.

"Who cares!" I heard Erik shout. "So what if she may not be all there or is too young. We couldn't leave her there in that shit hole of a town. Adam said that she was maybe months away from offing her life and we saved her." The room was silent. Was I just a fucking charity case to them? How much do they actually know about me?

"Boo!" I jumped in the air and pushed myself away from the wall I was leaning on. Somewhere along the lines of my heart popping out my chest and jumping I managed to fall on my ass. I looked up to see Bo holding out a hand to me. I ignored it and picked myself up. I don't need help.

"How much did you hear?" I heard Alex call out. I walked around the corner to see all eyes pointed at me. Thank fuck the pills were already taking affect.

"Enough." I saw Krist put his head down trying to avoid my gaze. In this state of mind I could stare down a fucking bull.

"Chels, w-" I cut off Alex when I put a hand to my mouth.

"Bathroom," I managed to sputter out.

"Shit," Erik exclaimed as he ran over to me and guided me to a bathroom. As soon as I saw the toilet I got on my knees and spilled out the contents of my stomach and maybe a kidney. I don't know how long I sat there dry heaving. I don't know how long Erik stayed with me as he rubbed my back. But I do know that I felt like absolute shit. Mentally and physically. "Do you need anything?" Erik asked when he saw that I was through drive heaving, "Water maybe?"

"Alone," I croaked out. It hurt so much to talk. My throat felt like it was on fire. He stared at me as if he wasn't sure he heard me correctly. When he realized I was serious he squeezed my hand gently and left the bathroom.

After a minute of resting against the tub that was next to the toilet I finally picked myself up. Halfway up I had to stop because I was getting so dizzy from the movement. When my head settled I stood up all the way straight and fumbled my way to the sink. I reached out to the door and turned the lock. I turned on the faucet and splashed my face with the cool water. With my face dripping wet I looked at myself through the mirror above the sink.

The first thing I noticed was my bangs clinging to my wet forehead. It freaked me out how the red fringe seemed to make my dull brown eyes pop. Deep and dark bags surround my eyes as if I haven't gotten any sleep in years. I wonder if it's because of the dreams? Red dots covered the tip of my nose as a result of throwing up. I never understood why, but they were always there after I threw up. My lips made me cringe at how chapped and pale they've become. Doesn't help that they were so small. It made them look like they've shriveled up and pruned. Overall it looked like my face aged two years since I've joined the guys. I was starting to question if joining this band was a good idea or not.

Disgusted with the taste of vomit in my mouth I opened the bottle of Listerine that sat on the edge of the sink and rinsed out my mouth. It burned like hell, but at least it got the taste out of my mouth. I stared at my reflection one last time. I've come to the conclusion that I will be disgusted with my face no matter what and shouldn't be blaming it on anyone else. Especially the guys, but the thought of joining this band being good or not still lingered in the back of my mind. Shit. I'm thinking. I threw up the pills and the effects of numbness were gone. Why did I even throw up?

I didn't even eat that day, so there was nothing to upset my stomach. It can't be the pills because I always took pills and they never made me sick. No, they made me feel happy and numb. So what was it?

They're talking about you.

I shut my eyes and gripped my head. The voice had been gone for two days already. Why is it coming back now?

You idiot.

You fooled yourself into trusting them.

Because I do trust them

Do you?

You thought they cared.

They do.

Would they call someone they care about crazy?

"Would they?" I softly whispered to myself.

There was a knock on the door. "Chelsea, are you okay in there?" It was Erik. He called me crazy. "Chelsea please answer me."

They all know you're crazy.

"I'm not," I whispered.

The knocking got louder. "Chelsea please answer me." He sounded panicked.

"I'm fine." My voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

"Chelsea please say something. You're fucking scaring me. Open the door!"

I reached out to unlock the door. My hand was shaking. As soon as I unlocked it Erik came bursting in. He grabbed onto my shoulders and pulled me back, as if he was inspecting me. Inspecting what? My brows furrowed as he kept staring at me.

You're suicidal.

"I'm fine," I said loudly my voice no longer hoarse. Who was I talking to?

"I know," Erik said as he pulled me into a hug. My arms fell limp by my side. "I'm sorry," he spoke into my hair.

He's not sorry.

"About what?" I still didn't know who I was talking to.

"You shouldn't have had to hear that. Krist is just an asshole." He was still hugging me in the bathroom.

It's what they all think.

I managed to look up from Erik's chest. He pulled away from me and brought a hand up to my cheek. His eyes held concern. Concern about what? Me? But why?

"I'm I a charity case to y'all."

He'll deny it.

His eyes widened at my words. He looked shock and opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

Can't even think of a lie.

"Chelsea, why would you even think about yourself like that? We all care about you and only want you to be happy. We invited you to this band because not only did we see how happy you felt on stage, but how much you fit in with us. This band is a family and you're now a part of our family."

Lies.

Remember your old family.

"I wanna talk with y'all."