#sibling loss tw

[doodle-girl]

The near-immediate surge of art inspiration this gave me after reading this was unreal. Posts that make you google shit like “popular halloween costumes in 1986” lmao (the kid’s dressed as Freddy Krueger, btw)

Will most likely continue this tomorrow because I had more pictured in my head but uuuh I need to frickin. sleep ✌️ this fic is so raw I am absorbing it into my neurons

Thank You, Clyde

(I could not find the original post. However, this fic is based on the idea that Clyde could mimic Lewis Williams/William Lewis' voice for Alex. Be prepared, it's a bit longer than my normal fics.)

Being on the run allowed time for a lot of thinking. Alex thought about many things; Clyde, Winfrey, Lankmann, Patient 66, the situation they were in, etc. The thing that came with a wave of grief every time they thought about it, was their brother, Lewis Williams. 

Lewis was the best little brother that Alex could ask for. They got along well, he was well-behaved, had many friends at school, and tried his hardest to make Alex proud. After the death of their parents, Alex had taken care of Lewis for a few years before his untimely death. Although Alex had seemed put together in that news segment, they were internally shattered to pieces. 

His death hurt less now, but sometimes the grief just came around every once in a while to punch them in the gut. It’s been happening more often now since Alex and Clyde were on the run. When they did think about Lewis, Alex wondered what he would think of where they were now; hanging out with the creature that killed him. How fucked up was that? They often thought that Lewis would be rolling in his grave at the thought. Then, they would remember that there was no grave for Lewis or the other children at all.

Alex hadn’t even noticed that they were crying until Clyde loudly cleared its throat. They wiped their eyes furiously, they hadn’t cried about Lewis in months. 

Clyde watched the human in mild concern, wondering if being on the run was getting to them. “What are you thinking about?”

“Thinking about my dead brother, Lewis,” Alex sniffled lightly. 

Clyde didn’t know how it had never made the connection before. Alex was Lewis William’s older sibling. And Clyde had killed him. 

Clyde had never felt any grief or remorse for the ones he had killed until that moment. Clyde never got particularly close with any of the humans he killed, but this situation was different. One of its closest frie- companions had been harmed by his actions. However, it then realized that it would have never met Alex unless he had killed Lewis, so it felt a little less bad. Despite that, Alex was still upset and Clyde did not know how to handle an upset human.

Suddenly, Clyde was hit with an idea.

“You can absolutely say no to this, but I can mimic his voice and create a hallucination of him for you. You could at least talk to him one last time,” Clyde suggested quietly.

“That’s kind of fucked up, but you’d really do that for me?” Alex sniffles again, eyes wet with unshed tears.

Clyde nodded, “Whenever you’re ready.”

Alex hops down from the tree they are hiding in. They knew it was probably unsafe to be so in the open, but they would rather fall to their knees on the ground than fall from the tree. Alex whispers almost inaudibly, “I’m ready.”

Suddenly, a small dirty blond-haired boy appeared in front of Alex. He looked disorientated for a moment before locking onto Alex’s face.

“Allie!” the boy cried, racing toward his older sibling.

“Oh, Lew,” Alex almost choked out a sob. They crouched and held their arms out for a hug for just a moment before realizing they couldn’t do that. As real as Lewis looked, he was just a hallucination. Alex frowned for a half second before smiling again at the young boy.

“Allie, don’t be sad, I’m right here!” Lewis beamed as if that would take all the pain away. He was still in his Halloween costume, Alex noted. They had saved up for Lewis’ Halloween costume and were so excited to take pictures of the boy, but they never got the chance before he was taken. Lewis noticed Alex checking out his costume. “I love my Halloween costume. It must have been a lot of money.”

Alex nodded, “It took me a bit to save up for it, but you had been doing so well in school that I thought you deserved something nice.”

Lewis sits in front of Alex’s crouched form, “You didn’t have to do that, y’know. I’m grateful for all you do for me.”

“I know, bud,” Alex sits down fully. “But, doing special things for you made me feel good because it made you happy. And I love you so much, I would’ve hated to see you upset.”

“I love you, too,” the boy smiled. “But I have to go very soon, my friends are waiting for me.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Friendship is very important,” Alex sighs. “I’m sorry I ended up in this situation, I hope you can forgive me. I just have to survive for now and Clyde is the only way for me to do that. I love you so much, Lewis.”

The boy smiled and tilted his head, “I could never be mad at you. I love you, too, Alex.”

And the boy faded away.

Alex had been holding everything in, so the moment Lewis disappeared, Alex began sobbing. Fat hot tears trickled down their face. Snot clogged their nose, making it hard to breathe. Alex almost threw up. They had worked so hard for that boy. They had struggled with taking care of him while Alex still had to finish high school and work a job to make ends meet. Alex worked so hard and he died.

Clyde hadn’t anticipated such a visceral reaction from Alex. It quickly and not so gracefully landed on the ground and wrapped Alex in a blanket. Alex hardly, if at all, acknowledged the action.

“Shit,” the veldigun sat in front of the human. “Can you hear me, Alex?”

Alex coughed harshly and nodded. “Okay. Uh… everything is fine. Just try to follow my breathing.”

It took several minutes for Alex to calm down. Even as they did, it seemed as though they were dazed and unfocused. The veldigun carefully placed its claws on the blanket covering Alex, hoping that the pressure would ground them. Slowly, they raised their eyes to Clyde’s and spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand,” the veldigun looked confused. “What are you sorry for?”

Alex sighs, “Because you had to see me like this and I used you for something so selfish.”

Clyde removes its claws from Alex’s shoulders. “Eh, I’ve done worse to others. Plus, I’m using you for something selfish, too. Least I could do.”

Alex chuckles mirthlessly, “That doesn’t reassure me… but, thanks for doing what you did, though.”

“Like I said, the least I could do.”

The rest of the day was slow and uneventful. Clyde silently made plans on how to get food for the night while watching over Alex’s sleeping body. It had thought about running off to steal hot chocolate from somebody’s house but decided that he shouldn’t leave the human all alone. Another thing that crossed its mind was to sneak back to Alex’s house to get their scrapbook. It knew it would have to do that soon. Being on the run was difficult for the veldigun and it had no idea how the human would continue to respond to such dire circumstances. Getting the album would put Alex into higher spirits so they could keep surviving, Clyde justified, and not at all about the fact that sometimes it needed to see a smile on Alex’s face.

[captainharlock]

comic i made about out-aging the person i've been grieving

[heavenbarnes]

okay hear me out— softness and gentle topics aside, how would older bf!simon go about discussing his mom & Tommy? would it ever occur? Would it be a vulnerable and gentle discussion with sins laid on the table or would it be like pulling teeth— panic attack arises and the words are spewing.

at first I’d have headcanoned it that maybe we innocently question the clinginess but I’m not so sure anymore; feels like that would just be second nature for the two.

i’ve never ventured into this topic because it’s literally so devastating that i almost considered writing it out of canon for him- but it’s time 🫶🏼 (massive tw for family loss)

the day older bf!simon tells you about his family, it’s at breakfast.

he’d made the food and you’d made the coffee, both expertly passing each other in your kitchen until you’d settled at the table.

when he told you, you had toast hanging out your mouth.

“pardon?”

“i had a family”

you weren’t really talking about anything in particular, so you made quick mental work of skimming over your conversation until you found where this was coming from.

sunny outside, nice day, should go to the farmers market, get groceries, it’ll be crowded, family day-

i had a family

had.

oh.

your heart had start to speed up in your chest and part of you was scared simon’s military precision hearing would be able to tell.

judging by the look on his face, distant, quiet- he couldn’t hear the thrumming against your sternum.

you were thankful, it meant he kept speaking.

“my mum and my brother, tommy- he had a missus too and a kid”

had.

oh god.

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze drifted out the window and onto the birds that were floating over the fruit tree in the backyard.

you couldn’t say there was much of you to look at, a hardline of your mouth and eyes that were willing themselves not to water.

“they weren’t in a good way- but i helped them get better”

the corners of your lips quirked reflexively but it fell away just as quickly, unable to escape the voice in the back of your head that kept saying the same thing.

had.

why is every thing in the past tense?

probably for the same reason this is the first time you’re hearing this story. when is the right time to get to this part?

the moment he cuts the rope, lets you down from where he’s had you hanging- you wish you could react in any other way.

instead, your mouth hangs open while your hand does its best to cover it.

the toast goes cold, so does the coffee.

the tears break through of their own accord.

and he still won’t look at you.

“oh, simon”

your mind races in a way you’ve never felt before, thoughts you’d never had before rising to the surface.

first, you want to hurt someone, anyone- whoever you can blame for doing this to simon.

(you quickly realise he’s probably already done that)

second, you want to take him by the shoulders and tell him that this was never his fault.

that there was nothing he did or could’ve done to deserve this.

and you’re sure that there’s layers to his job and things he’s done and seen that’d make him think that cannot be true.

but you don’t care- there is no human alive that could ever deserve what you’ve just been told.

you don’t care.

you love him.

third, you start to make sense of some of simon’s behaviours.

the way he calls your name when you’re at the other end of the house, just to know where you are.

the way you can turn around at any given moment and find him closer than your shadow.

the way he calls you on deployment only to hear you tell him you love him and you’re still home waiting.

the way he cannot exist without a hand on you, without knowing where you are, without knowing you’re still his.

and there you go again, wanting to hurt whoever put him in this position.

grateful to be able to love him how he needs but angry- blind rage in knowing what he went through to get to this point.

it’s why you’re out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his shoulders the minute you hear even a sniff.

you let him ruin your shirt with tears as strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so close into him you wouldn’t be at all surprised if the particles shifted just enough for you to become one.

as if you weren’t already.

you’d never, never ever, questioned simon’s ever present need to be close. you’d come to accept it, enjoy it, miss it when he was gone.

it was never overbearing, never out of line, always right when you needed it.

reminding you that he was there.

that he loved you.

that he needed you.

just as much as you needed him.

and god, did he need to be needed.

did he need you to pass him the pickle jar (even when you could open it just fine)

did he need you to make him take the rubbish out (when you could do it yourself)

did he need you to call him when the car was making a funny sound (when you knew it was the fan belt)

did you need him to pull you into his lap at the end of a long day and rest his lips against the crown of your head as he rubbed slow circles into your back.

like you were doing for him now.

“simon, i just need you to know- i’m not going anywhere”

you made it to the farmer’s market, eventually. it was crowded, meaning simon’s arm never let your waist.

not that you mind.

not that you ever mind.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Weasley Siblings Helping You Lose Weight

AN: I suffer a binge eating disorder, inflected from my mother. I also suffer with medical issues and medication that genuinely have made things so difficult. My mom refuses to help, so sometimes you just gotta be your own cheerleader. Call me crazy, but imagining George Weasley supporting me is what keeps me going sometimes. Maybe this can helps others in my shoes to. It’s scary, and isolating, but hey. I’m your cheerleader to!

Warnings: Binge eating disorder, weight loss, sensitive topic matter with food, diet culture, it’s just a trigger warning of weight topics in general

William ‘Bill’

As the eldest sibling he’s had to try and be the best influence. He’s had to try and make sure his younger siblings ate and stayed health. Third parent syndrome. So he knows that this will be a journey, but one he’s happy to help with. Given his curse breaking job he often needs to keep himself in a very healthy mental space. So he would be more than happy to drag you in with yoga, tai chi, and simple mental work outs like that. It’s simple, but easy on the joints. A important part of weight loss is doing things that are enjoyable. Makes you want to do them more. His focus on mental health is very important, and often ignored when weight loss is involved. So this important step is going to make the journey so much easier. Slower? Maybe. But slower means it’ll STAY off easier. His focus on mental health is going to be a god send

Charlie

Since he works with dragons he knows how important it is to keep healthy. He’s constantly doing Manuel labor, and eats a pretty heavy diet of protein. This also means he’s going to be a great cheerleader to help you. Knowing all kinds of great work outs to help you, and finding useful tasks for you to do at the sanctuary. Not to mention he knows how to cook, and is more than happy to show you how as well. He is also a nice reminder that you can still be healthy will looking chubby. He’s made of heavy muscle. Muscle isn’t tense twenty four seven. That squishy is deadly. It’ll make losing weight a bit scary though. You’ll be developing muscle as you lose weight, so the number on the scale won’t really move. Don’t worry. Muscle burns a lot since you need a lot of calories to keep it. You are in safe hands. You need to trust the process. It takes time. You’ll do it! Charlie knows it!

Percy

He’s not a jock. He doesn’t work out like crazy. Especially not like his siblings. But he does know how to cook. Every Weasley does. Eating healthier and cleaner is exteremly important. Most of weight loss relies on being under a calorie number. That’s, unfortunately, the harder parts to. So Percy will be more than happy to do a bunch of reading on the topic. To do his best to figure out the best meals for the day. To help trade out snacks for healthier alternatives. It’ll also give him a good excuse to try and repair the bond with his family. Practicing and learning family recipes. That’s so nice

Fred & George

They run a joke shop full of candy, sweets, and pastries. Needless to say it’s a binge eaters worst nightmare. That’s going to cause so many trials and tribulation. The smells and scents, the new recipes, it’s just hell. They want to help so much, but they are shop owners. Not like they just take it all off the shelves. It’s truly going to be a test that you will fail, many times, but they will be there to pick up the pieces. They’ll be there for every crying session you have after you finish off so much that you feel inhuman. They’ll even use this as an excuse to try and invent new sweets that can be healthier. Children deserve to eat healthier too. Some kids are victims of obesity and need help. Diet culture makes them think they are bigger than they actually are. So to have healthier sweet alternatives helps everyone. Your struggles will be what help kids feel better. They’ll be more than happy to find alternatives to help. You won’t be treated as ‘different’ for needing to diet. You won’t feel like a burden because you need to eat different. Being a kid is being happy and whimsical. And by god they will help you make eating fun again! And help you through that toxic relationship with it!

Ron

He can be the one person that understands the relationship dynamic of food. Sure he has a high metabolism, and is constantly working out, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how eating can just make everything feel better. Food can feel good, but it can also feel so damn bad. He knows that feeling. He knows that pain. He knows that horrible dance. He gets it, and knows it’s not as easy as just ‘eating less’ as everyone says. It’s not that easy. He knows. He knows you are trying your damn best, and he’s going to remind you that you have made successful steps. That because you relapse doesn’t make you any less of a person. Everyone falls down. The fact you get up again is what matters. He gets it, and will help you. You two can do it. TOGETHER

Ginny

As the youngest she’s seen her siblings trial and tribulations. As the saying goes ‘the oldest does everything the youngest shouldn’t’ and learns not to do that. She also over all has more life experience than people give her credit for. She understands that you are struggling, and is more than happy to help. Have you train with her before her quidditch seasons, and just try and make things fun. Just like her siblings ya gotta make it fun. She’s got that high energy spirit that will help you stay active. Morning runs, yoga, dancing, she has an energetic lifestyle that will help you be more active. Even if you both stay home all day. Her energy is infectious, and it’ll help motivate you to move more. She’s got your back, and has so many health programs to let you use. She’s a professional quidditch player. Everyone needs a specific diet plan for their needs. Especially since everyone works a different part. A seeker needs a different diet compared to a beater. She’s gonna help you, and her quidditch team has your back all the same. You won’t face this alone

[tashamadams]

"Starting to sound like me," she quipped, giving him a playful look. "Though you do beat me by a few more siblings. I only have three," she shrugged, not adding that she used to have four but sadly her eldest brother passed years ago. Taking the last pastry, she crumbled up the bag, with her free hand while taking a bite of the still warm beignet. "True, plus these folks," she said, looking around, "seem like they know what they like and what they don't. So shit wouldn't fly in general."

"Well, I have plenty of siblings, but I'm always happy to add a new one who isn't a trouble maker." He winked at her playfully, though he often felt like he had dozens of siblings running around. He reached into the bag and took another out, taking a bite. "I don't think that would fly as much in New Orleans, it's a smaller city than a lot of them, so bad shit doesn't last as long."

[whatisitreallylike]

I would like to propose a new word: Siblow

Like a widow... but it's the sibling version. I will never class myself as an only child, but I am now the only LIVING child.

No one talks about how complex sibling grief is.

Socially, there's no easy way to say "Yes, I had a sibling, they died." without raising questions.

But I also don't want to say "No, I don't have any siblings."

So I propose "I'm a siblow."

[17-noodlebird]

I can't believe I let this fly past my Caine Angst Radar! Anyway, here's the fic below!

↓

@luckycloverforducks @arandomnerd810 @thescarletnargacuga @jaxangel @localfandom @sherclockmolmes

Eat up, gang!

[dogbound1128]

All the backgrounds were screenshotted from UNDERTALE RP [WIP] on Roblox!

[tangledinink]

my least favorite thing in the world is when people go "oh,,,, 🥺 god must have needed an angel,,,," in the wake of a loved one's death. like,,, fr???? the all-powerful god, lord of everything, maker of the universe or whatever the fuck, just,,, DESPERATELY needed a 25-year-old dumbass SOOO bad RIGHT NOW??? was there a car he needed someone to identify the make and model of without anyone asking???? like???? did they just REALLY need someone to drink bud light and play COD for him???? heaven just DEEPLY needs someone to come up and pet cats and this was the ONLY OPTION????

[starwarsmum]

Day 2 for Maribat BioFamily September! Up on AO3 now

Trigger warnings for under the cut: Mention of Miscarriage; Breastfeeding. It's non-graphic, but it is mentioned.

@maribat-calendar-events

Day 2: It's a Girl!

Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain wanted children. They had always wanted to be parents and share the love they felt for each other with another human. They had picked out names, painted a nursery and done a dozen courses on keeping a baby safe and healthy. The first time Sabine fell pregnant, they had been so excited that they couldn't keep the news to themselves.

But fate was against them, because after multiple miscarriages, and two babies that started growing in her fallopian tubes, Sabine was left unable to have children naturally. The couple grieved, they mourned and then they decided that fate did not get to decide that they could not be parents. The Dupain-Chengs were more than ready and they would find a way.

As a way to find support, Sabine joined a few groups online, filled with individuals like herself and lamented the life she had believed she was going to have. She shared pictures of her babies that had never arrived, of the things that stayed in the attic room because they had never been used.

One day, someone reached out to her from the international group she was a part of. A couple were in desperate need of a loving couple to take care of a baby they could not afford, and they had been moved by her heartfelt messages. Sabine was wary, but her heart leapt at the thought of finally having a baby of her own.

So she messaged the person back and in return received a message explaining that it would be a closed adoption, the parents did not want to be contacted beyond the day the child would be given to them. They also asked that all medical fees be covered, and the biological mother be compensated for carrying the child to term.

Sabine and Tom received a contract that read more like a surrogacy agreement but they were too excited to think about rewording anything and signed happily. And when it came time, the mother came to France and gave birth there, making it a simple matter of taking the child home once they were cleared for release.

Sabine was present for the birth, standing beside the woman, Janet, who asked for an epidural and gave birth three days after her due date. Sabine watched in awe as the baby - her baby - came into the world, giving a loud wail as she was born.

“It's a girl!” The midwife cried, handing the little bundle to Janet to nurse. It had been something they had discussed at length and both had agreed that any nutrients and natural defenses Janet was able to offer the newborn would be for the best. But once she was full and ready for cuddles, Janet immediately handed the baby to Sabine for skin-to-skin contact.

Looking down at the tiny child, Sabine swore that she would do anything for her baby. It didn't matter that she had not given birth herself, this little girl was her baby and she would not allow harm to come to her.

_ _ _

When Sabine went home with Tom and the baby, - Marinette, they had decided to call her Marinette - they fell into an easy routine. Sabine would wrap Marinette in a sling whilst working on the pastries for the day, and Tom often wrapped one around himself when Sabine was working the register.

It felt like no time at all until Marinette was at school and navigating the ins and outs of social life. They had been upfront about the fact that she was brought into their family because they wanted her, that they had waited for her and loved her so much that they had adopted her at birth.

And then, when their baby was fourteen and already struggling with a bully, Hawkmoth had appeared and terrorised the citizens of Paris. They had watched their daughter go from cripplingly shy to confident and they would have been idiots not to guess at the reason.

So when Hawkmoth had been defeated, they had pulled Marinette into a tight hug and explained that they knew she had been Ladybug, had listened to her declarations to the public that it was dangerous for anyone to know the heroes identities and decided to wait to tell her.

And so, they had encouraged her to contact the Justice League and get as much help as possible now that there was no risk of super powered individuals falling prey to Hawkmoth's machinations. They also accepted Adrien to their household immediately, although it was a little disappointing that it clearly wouldn't be as the son-in-law they had thought he would be.

When Marinette received the formal invitation from the Waynes of Gotham to spend time at their estate to get away, they had pushed her to accept. And when she had accepted, they received the bombshell that she did, in fact, have family in Gotham. Her birth parents had been dead for some time, which shocked all three of them, but she had an older brother who wanted to meet her.

Yes, Marinette would get a lot of good from visiting the Waynes, and they would still see her as Ladybug when she was called as a witness for Hawkmoth's trial.

[temva]

I feel like I don't post about my TMNT iteration enough so heres a bunch of doodles and concept sketches I scrounged up

[secretgardensmind]

As a sole surviving sibling, he’ll always be my brother but I’m not a sister anymore

[dizzified]

Freedom in exchange for misery, even in death, he remains a plague on her mind.

"She'd never hear his voice again, she'd never see his face, she'd have nothing but scars to remember him by, soon, they would fade, soon she'd forget, whenever she thought of him, it'd be nothing but his face, cold and dead, never how she wanted to remember her brother.

This wasn't how it should've gone, this wasn't how he should've been, she wanted him to be there, the reality that he was no longer, never coming back, she'd never see her brother again.

So, she screamed to the skies, wailing and crying as she clutched at nothing but disturbed earth, none of this was fair, this couldn't be happening, this couldn't be, all of this was a bad dream, she'd wake up.

She'd be ok, he'd be ok, he'd be the brother she needed him to be, he couldn't be gone, not yet, she'd never got her answers, she'd never understood why, she'd never know the truth, never get to ask him why he did what he did.

She'd live knowing Python would never see next spring, they'd never bask in the sunlight together again, they'd never chat over meaningless topics, never pick flowers together, she'd never get to hug him, hear him laugh, and.. Nobody but her would miss him.

Python Dynastia, now a monster to all that knew him, she knew that she should think the same, but to Amelia, that was her brother, inseperable since birth, and no matter how much he hurt her.

She'd bury him with the utmost care and weep for what she'd lost that day.

Because she loved him.

No matter what, she knew she always would."

[ak-harper-loves-fiction]

Short Story About Grief

This story is about side characters from the book I'm working on called From Then and Back Again (a psychological thriller about trauma recovery). I wanted to give my less-focused-on characters more depth and spotlight, so here is a short story about their past and the loss of their father (this takes place 5-ish years before the events of the book). Here it is:

Lupe rubs her thumb across the family portrait. Five people, all with smiles on their faces. Who are these people? she asks herself. She stares at the bottom of the bronze-colored frame and reads the inscription out loud: “La Familia Carrillo.” That used to be us, she thinks. 

She focuses on the man standing in the back. “Papá,” she whispers aloud. His brown eyes looked so alive in the picture, yet now they stare blankly. He had the warmest grin, and it had now turned cold. Tears well up in her eyes. Not again, she thinks. She squeezes her eyes shut so tight they hurt, but she still feels wetness on her cheek. She falls to her knees and looks up. “Why God, why?”  

She tries to wipe away the tears, but they keep coming down. Realizing her attempts are futile, Lupe buries her face in her hands and listens to her quiet sobs amidst the silence of the living room. Her knees burn against the carpet, but she ignores it. Then, she jumps at the sound of footsteps. She nearly drops the portrait. The steps then enter the room. She looks up to see her sister, Aurora, walking with their mother exiting the wood-floored hallway. She swiftly puts the photo back on the table where she took it off and turns to them. She offers them a small smile and a wave. 

“Hola, Lupe,” her mother greets softly. Her voice sounds as if she had just stopped crying, her curly brown hair is a disaster, and her eyes are watery. Aurora rubs her mom’s back and stares at the ground. 

“Hola,” Lupe replies. She fixes her eyes on Aurora, who she has not seen cry yet. Her older sister has huge bags underneath her eyes and remains silent. Mamá always relies on her for everything, she notes angrily. 

“I have to start filling out stuff for his wake and funeral,” her mom continues as tears stream down her face. “Aurora, ¿me ayudarás?”

“Sí,” Aurora mumbles and scratches her arm. She turns to Lupe. “Hey, can you check on Izey for me? I haven’t seen him since…” She trails off, and Lupe can see that she wants to cry so badly.

“Sure,” Lupe answers. She watches her mother and sister disappear into the kitchen and she heads down the hallway. The floor is dark wood and creaks under her feet. Along the walls are doors, most of which lead to bedrooms. She walks to her brother’s room and the door is shut. She reaches her fist out to knock, but she hesitates. Something burns inside of her. He’s the reason I didn’t get to say goodbye to Papá. She shakes her head. That wasn’t his fault, she scolds herself. You told him to say goodbye first. She holds back more tears, then knocks on the door. 

When there is no answer, she turns the knob and opens the door. “Isaac?” she asks then gasps when she sees him sitting on his bed. His hair is as disastrous as their mother’s. He looks as tired as Aurora, and he is slightly shaking. “Isaac?” she asks once again.

Isaac gets startled and lifts his head, but focuses back down after making eye contact. He mutters something so subtly that Lupe cannot make out what he said. 

“What did you say?” she questions concernedly and approaches him. 

“I’m sorry,” he responds meekly. His shaking gets more severe. “I should’ve done something.”

She sits on the bed beside him and puts her arm around him. Now her arm shakes with him. “Izey, there was nothing you could’ve done. It was a congenital heart condition.” She blinks back tears. Papá is gone forever. It was inevitable. 

Isaac crosses his arms and looks away. “Then why is Mamá mad at me?”

Because Mamá is always mad, her mind tells her to answer. Lupe looks around her brother’s dull green room, then focuses on the gray rug covering the wooden floor. She feels a chill travel up her spine. The bed was supposed to be warm, but this one is cold. “She isn’t mad at you.”

Instead of responding, he strokes a circular lump in the covers. 

“Is that Bagel?” she lightly laughs. 

Isaac lifts the gray comforter to reveal a small beagle curled up on the bed next to him. “Yeah.” He turns back to her. “He’s sad, too.”

She pulls him into a side hug. “It’s gonna be okay.” She wonders if she is saying that to him or herself. After releasing him, Lupe adds: “You should come to the kitchen with me. Mamá and Aurora are there. It’s better to not be alone. Ya know, take your mind off things. You should probably also have breakfast.”

“I don’t wanna,” he pouts. 

“You have to eat.”

“It’s fine.” Lupe squints at Isaac. At least I can distract myself by dealing with him, she tells herself. “This is unusual…even for you.”

“That’s mean,” he grumbles and he turns his back to her. He fixes his attention to petting Bagel. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she relents. “But seriously, why don’t you want to eat? You have to be at least somewhat hungry.”

“I’m not, though.”

“Be honest.”

“I am being honest!” Isaac snaps as he glares back at her. “Leave me alone.”

Lupe puts her hands up in surrender. “Okay, do you want water?”

“I’m good.” He nods for her to leave. 

“Fine,” she sighs. She stands up and heads for the door. “Te amo,” she adds before leaving and shutting the door behind her. You told him to go first, she reminds herself. It’s your fault he was in there when Papá died. She holds her head in her hands and shakes it. She walks back to the kitchen. The kitchen is colored a warm red, but it makes her shiver. The table is covered with funeral papers. What used to seat a family now seats paperwork. Aurora and her mom are seated next to each other. Aurora immediately looks up when she notices Lupe is there.

“How’s he doing?” she questions. Concern fills her voice. She seems to be holding her breath in anticipation. 

Lupe just shakes her head. She then notices the fifth chair at the head of the table. Papá will never sit there again, she thinks. She bites down on her tongue.

Interrupting her thoughts, Aurora begins standing up. “I better go help him-”

Their mom holds out her hand. “Necesitamos terminar.” She gestures to the papers on the table. 

“Right,” Aurora mutters as she sits back down. 

“Don’t worry your sister,” their mother scolds and glares at Lupe. “Isaac will be fine.” She takes a breath to choke back tears. “He is just as strong as his father. He’s the man of the house now.”

“Fine,” Lupe says through gritted teeth. She balls her hands into fists and walks down the hall. She hopes she is stomping. She wishes it would make her mom listen. I hate her so much, she thinks. Isaac is ten. He is not a man. Aurora is fifteen. She is not a therapist. I’m twelve. I’m not a demon. Why does she hate me so much anyway? 

She reaches her room and slams the door. She analyzes the lavender walls and the wooden dressers that her dad used to see when he would come in there. The electric guitar he bought her is placed on its stand in the corner of the room. He fought with her mom over it for weeks before he got it. He won’t ever buy you anything ever again. Her mouth quivers and her eyes build up moisture. She runs to her bed and collapses face-first on it. She weeps into her violet covers, the warmth of them reminds her of her father’s hugs. “I miss you so much, Papá,” she whispers as she holds her hand out, pretending her father is there to hold her hand. “How are you gone?” She lifts her head and sits up, tears still streaming down her face. She allows her legs to dangle off of her bed. She stares up at the ceiling. “I hope you’re in a better place, Papá. Te amo.”

She slaps her forehead. I need a distraction, she tells herself. Isaac. She wipes away her tears and stands up. She takes a deep breath and leaves her room. She gazes down the hall and sees Isaac’s door is open. She also hears Aurora’s voice. Of course. She makes her way to his room and stands in the doorway. She peers inside and sees Aurora sitting next to Isaac and Bagel.

“You can’t stay in here all day,” Aurora informs him while putting her hand on his shoulder. 

He pulls her hand off. “Mamá doesn’t want to talk to me, Aurie. I don’t wanna bother her.” He continues to keep his eyes only on petting Bagel. 

Lupe steps into the room and places herself in the conversation. “She’s right, Izey. You can’t let Mamá get to you like that.”

Aurora gives Lupe a dirty look, then returns to Isaac. “Mamá isn’t trying to get to you. She’s just in a bad way right now, like all of us. She’ll come around eventually. But in the meantime, you need to take care of yourself.”

He does not answer. 

“You can’t keep making excuses for her,” Lupe scoffs and puts her hands on her hips. “Isaac didn’t do a single thing wrong. Don’t act like she’s all innocent.”

Aurora rolls her eyes and facepalms. “I never said he did anything wrong. I said he needs to give Mamá some time to process-”

“Process what? That Papá is dead? The same thing everyone else is processing? You can’t expect everyone to accommodate for her stupi-”

“What’s going on here?” their mom inquires as she steers Lupe out of the doorway. “Aurora, I still need your help. I just had to use the bathroom, remember?”

“Of course,” Aurora responds sweetly with a fake smile. She stands up and walks over to her mother. 

Their mom smiles back. “Puedes esperar en la cocina, amor.”

Aurora nods and leaves for the kitchen. 

Their mother turns to Lupe. “I thought I told you not to trouble her.”

“But-,” Lupe tries to protest. 

“I don’t need to hear an explanation from you. I told you he would be fine.” She gestures towards Isaac who winces and uses one hand to grab his covers. She continues, but never once looks at him. “He can figure things out on his own. What good is a son if he can’t take care of himself? Might as well have had three daughters then.” She storms off back to the kitchen.  

Lupe hears Aurora say something about how their mom should take it easy on them, but she just shuts her eyes tightly. Reopening them, she turns to check on Isaac. He is still petting Bagel, but he is more tense than he was before. “She’s being too hard on you,” she says to him. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he answers and his voice shakes a little. “She never liked me very much anyway.”

“That’s not true. She loves-”

“Lupe,” he starts while lifting his head to look at her with pleading eyes. “Be honest. Are you mad at me, too? Is Aurie mad-”

“No, no!” she refuses to let him finish. A hole is drilled in her stomach. It’s your fault he blames himself. “Izey, Mamá is crazy for blaming you for this.” She kneels on the floor in front of him so they match in height. “This is not your fault. At all.”

“You sure?”

“One hundred percent.” Lupe offers him a smile. Stay strong, she tells herself. 

Isaac does not smile back. Instead, he picks up Bagel and places him on his lap. He hesitates, then finally says: “Thank you.” It comes out more like a question.

“You’re welcome,” she answers sadly and stands up. She goes to leave her brother’s room, but she stops at the entrance. She looks back at her brother and thinks: Oh Papá, please come back. 

[mightgetsomewhere]

I genuinely can’t fathom how people who have never had a problem with food (restricting AND overeating because both are serious issues) view it. Like tf do you mean you get hungry after two hours? One of my siblings is onto me because I went like 6 hours without eating but like…that was because I wasn’t hungry???? On the flip side, I’ve noticed that I just keep fucking eating when everyone else has stopped. Free breadsticks at Olive Garden? I’ll eat them until they’re gone. Need something to do at a party? I’ll get seconds even though I’m not really hungry. I was never really an emotional eater aside from a few hatred-induced binges last semester at college, but I’m definitely a bored eater. Combine that with the fact that my parents don’t cook, so the occasional meals I had with my family all together were fast food/restaurant food, AND that all other nights, I was left to rummage with no supervision through the pantry to eat processed food in front of the TV/my phone for dinner, it’s a miracle I didn’t get fatter sooner.

[beverly-williams]

“Addiction is a process that starts with pain and ends with pain.” – Unknown

November 11th, 2023

“Thank you so much for your service,” Beverly was smiling, shaking the hand of the seventy-year-old veteran who was next in line to receive their free meal.

The older man returned the smile, giving Bev as firm of a handshake as he could manage before joining the others in line.

It was Veteran’s Day and like the year previous, Beverly closed Locke Studios to volunteer her time at the local VA center. Following her generous spirit, most of her barbers had also been able to attend.

The Locke Studios barbers were spread throughout the event, some working in the kitchen, others serving food while the rest helped veterans carry their trays of food to their tables. Beverly helped organize the line, funneling in the veterans that were just arriving, greeting them, and conversing with them if they so desired to carry on a conversation.

Her heart felt full watching the sight before her. There was laughter and joy radiating throughout the facility and she had been a part of helping foster that environment.

Suddenly, there was pain. The tightness gripping her heart caused Beverly’s smile to disappear. Luis, one of her barbers, had glanced over and noticed the drastic change.

“Hey boss, you alright?” Luis commented, leaving his station after signaling for someone to step in and take over. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, ushering her to the side. He stepped in front of her, staring at her face that had lost all color.

Beverly tried to shake it off, nodding to answer his question. Truthfully, she couldn’t speak. Her heart was palpitating quickly, making her feel lightheaded and nauseous. One wrong movement and Beverly feared her heart would explode. Was this a heart attack?

“I’m fine, Luis,” Bev managed to say, her mouth dry. She took a step back, removing herself from his hold. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with his touch, Luis was like a brother to Bev, but she felt as though she was suffocating. “Let’s get back to it, yeah?” she said, motioning to their stations they had left behind.

Luis stared at Beverly, not believing what she was saying but he had no choice in the matter. “Alright,” he said, glancing up at the clock. “Well, it’s 11:03. Let’s give it an hour and see how you feel then,” he declared firmly before leaving her side.

An hour passed yet the symptoms had lingered long after the initial onset. Though they were not as strong, Beverly felt uneasy. Though the panic attack had subsided, the pain remained. Her chest felt tight throughout the day though she did her best to mask her symptoms.

Throughout the event, Beverly could be seen with a smile on her face. It wasn’t until she was driving home that she was able to release the emotions she had bottled inside. She allowed herself to cry, not understanding why she felt so emotional and drained. Even after, her emotional release did very little to calm her uneasiness.

It was six in the evening when there was a knock at her door. Beverly used the remote to pause the show she had been watching, wondering if she had imagined the knocking. Her question was answered seconds later when the second knock came. A voice followed, “Miss Williams, it’s the Los Angeles Police Department.”

Beverly felt paralyzed. Something was wrong. Why would they be here? Did her shop get broken into? It wasn’t until the third knock that Bev forced herself to move. Her hand rubbed her chest, her heart aching as the heartbeat began to pick up pace once more.

She peered through the peephole and opened the door. “Hello, yes, hi. I’m sorry, I was --,” she started to say but stopped, her smile fading upon seeing the solemn faces of the men who stood at her door. “What happened?” she dared to ask, her voice small and afraid of their answer.

With a heavy sigh, both officers removed their caps and held them to their chests. Beverly felt her legs give out, knowing what they were about to say.

Officer Barnes caught Beverly before she collapsed, steadying her on her feet. “Miss Williams, you need to stay with us, okay?” he said to her, his voice gentle yet calm. It was a stark contrast to how she felt.

Tears were quickly falling from her eyes, cascading down her cheeks in rapid, flowing rivers. “It’s…Matt, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice breaking with each word.

The officer wrapped his arm around Beverly’s waist, holding her against his side. Bev felt as though her legs had no strength, she could not stand. She held onto the man with the little strength she had, her heart pounding so loud, she could hardly hear Officer Camdzic speak.

“We’re so sorry, Miss Williams. Your brother, Matthew Williams, was found this morning during a welfare check. He and Miss Ortega were both deceased upon arrival. They both are having autopsies done and though we have not received the results yet, it is our assumption that they died of a drug overdose. We found heroin in the apartment,” Officer Camdzic explained gently, meeting Beverly’s gaze.

Everything that Beverly feared that come to life. The last of her family was gone. Her baby brother that she had tried to protect since the age of one was now gone, just as their mother and father before him. The light within Beverly flickered out, a flame she had clung to for years.

Trying to process everything they had said was difficult. She didn’t understand several things they had mentioned. Welfare check and a name she did not recognize. Suppressing the bile that was threatening to surface, she managed to speak. “I don’t understand. Why was there a welfare check? For what? And who is Miss Ortega? A roommate? Did she live with him?” she asked, her voice hollow.

Officer Camdzic glanced at Officer Barnes before looking at Beverly to address her questions. “Miss Williams, were you unaware of your brother’s relationship with Vanessa Ortega? There have been welfare checks since their son, Michael Williams, was born. Miss Ortega had been under the influence of illegal substances when she gave birth to Michael. They had temporarily lost custody until both completed the requirements to regain custody…” he stated, eyeing Beverly.

More lies and deceit. The reality of everything Matthew had hidden from her was coming to the surface. Another betrayal, more anger. It was what fueled Beverly to finally be able to stand on her own.

“You mean to tell me I have a nephew and I was never contacted?! He could have been here with me instead of being thrown into the system!” Beverly exclaimed, her chest rising and falling quickly. Panic. “Where is he? Where is Michael? I need to see him!”

“Michael is with CPS. He cannot be released until morning. We can give you the information to the office. They open at 9AM. If you choose to take custody of Michael, it will need to be granted by a judge and there is a process, but you do have a choice. You do not have to take custody of Michael if you do not want it,” Officer Barnes explained.

Beverly knew the process. She had been through it herself many years prior. She said nothing. It was all too much to process in such a short amount of time though there was one thing she knew for certain; she would do all within her power to bring her nephew home.

The officers left her apartment after giving Beverly the information she needed to contact them and find the CPS office that would be processing Michael’s case.

It was 7 o’clock. Fourteen hours until she could go for Michael. That night, Beverly couldn’t sleep. Grief and anger crept in like waves, crashing over her and engulfing her all at once. She never felt so low.

When the sun rose and brought in the new day, Beverly pushed herself through the motions of preparing herself but how could she mentally prepare? She had lost her brother and learned about her nephew in the same breath. How was she going to get through this?

The vibrating of her cellphone snapped her out of thoughts. She had almost dropped it. His name and face lit up the screen; Ace was calling. Did something happen?

She answered the call. “Ace,” she said, her voice hollow and empty, breaking in her attempt to say more.

There was a pause on the other side. “Where are you? I’m coming,” Ace said.

Beverly was not one to ask for help or let her friends know she was struggling but Bev had never felt so gutted. She needed help to make it through the day, knowing she had to hold herself together to bring her nephew home.

“I’m home,” Beverly told him, her eyes beginning to water once again as she stared at the plate of untouched breakfast. “Okay.”