be a hallucination. He was in LA. I was the man of the house while he was gone and it was my job to fix this. To save my mother. When I went to take the baby from her lap, I realized I had a sister. Her umbilical cord was still attached inside Mom. I’d seen on TV how they could save the baby sometimes as long as it was still connected.
With newfound determination, I scooped Mom, my sister, and the towel full of pieces the doctors would need into my arms. I slipped in her blood but managed not to drop her. The trip down the stairs and out of the house would later become complete black memories. I didn’t recall how I got to the car, yet there I was, buckling my mother in, so she would be safe.
I climbed into the driver’s seat and tore out of the driveway. Miles and miles, I drove at full speed trying to get to the hospital in time. I could save her. I could save my mother and sister. She’d become one of those famous stories the whole world found out about. A medical miracle. And I would be her hero. There was no reason for her to ask for forgiveness for anything. Everything was going to be fine.
“Momma,” I choked out, “hang in there. Please. I need you. The baby needs you.”
She was quiet and wouldn’t respond. I risked a glance at her and my world ripped apart.
This was a fucking nightmare.
A replay of some horror story I watched as a kid.
The gore isn’t real.
The blood is fake.
I would wake up soon.
My stomach heaved as I realize the half blown out skull belonged to my mother. It wasn’t a small wound. Half her head was gone. There was no way anyone could survive such a blast. She was dead. My sister was dead too.
What the fuck!
My skin began burning and itching where her blood and brain matter clung to me. I started to panic trying to wipe it away.
“Get it off of me!” I screeched and released the steering wheel to scratch at my flesh.
But in a matter of seconds, we hit a bump. The car jerked. I tried to grasp the steering wheel. But for the second time that evening, I was too late. We were airborne. A half-second later, we crashed head first off the side of the road.
The car was flipping one, two, three, four, five, six times.
Or twenty.
Or once.
Everything was a dizzy, painful blur.
When we finally came to a stop, all that could be heard was the hissing of the engine and my ragged breaths. And as I began to black out, I counted them.
One.
Two.
Three…
“War!”
I blink my eyes open and find that I am staring into the prettiest blue ones I’ve ever seen. I plead with my mind to allow me to stay there. With her. With an angel.
But I have to get this shit off of me.
“Get away from me!” I bellow. “I have to get it off me!”
Shoving her away from me, I stumble out of the bed and toward my shower. With shaking hands, I turn on the shower as hot as it will go. I need the soap and the water and the rag. I need to get this fucking shit off my skin.
Oh God.
Is it in my mouth?
I start scraping my fingernails on my tongue until I’m gagging. From behind me, I hear crying and I can’t tell if it belongs to me or my sister or an angel.
“T-T-The water is too hot, War!”
A slender arm reaches past me to change the temperature. I reflexively slap the hand away. “Don’t touch it!”
A shriek followed by sobs is all I hear as I start to step into the scalding rain. I need it gone. I need the blood down the drain and away from my orifices.
“Warren, please!”
Hands clutch on to my bicep and I go black with crazed rage. Spinning to face my attacker, I shove as hard as I can until they are out of the bathroom. My trembling hands slam and lock the door.
The heat is my salvation.
I will burn away the blood.
Stepping into the shower, I wince as the water scorches my flesh. I cry out and slam my fists into the tile. Pain explodes all over my knuckles and I gape in horror to see blood streaming from them.
Her blood.
Her blood.
Her motherfucking blood!
Snatching up a rag, I start scrubbing at my knuckles. I must wash every trace