The So-Called Family | Teen Ink

The So-Called Family

May 1, 2023
By Laila_93 BRONZE, Missoula, Montana
Laila_93 BRONZE, Missoula, Montana
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
“I look at books as a form of activism because a lot of times they’ll show us a side of the world that we may have not known about.” -Angie Thomas


The So-called Family

  I’d watch him every night, lay on the side of his bed; still, numb. I’d watch as he’d escape the world we live in. He’d vanish into a whole new world, yet his body was still present. His eyelids rest halfway closed, his eyes appear vacant and lost. Drowning in a hoodie, AirPods in. He’d play the music so loud you could hear the buzzing echo of the music from across the room. That didn’t faze him whatsoever; his body was stationary while his mind escaped until his eyelids rested completely closed, completely forgetting about the reality he lived in. His emotions could be released from the cage that held them inside each day. As the lyrics coil around his body and mind, his feelings were gradually let go. As each verse was sung, tears would fall. You could see the pain evaporate from his soul. The pain was real, and his only hope for escape was the power each lyric held. He’d only come back to reality when it was necessary. Even then you could see the pain in his eyes.

 Across the hall, his sister found her worthiness through men. Without any form of father figure near, she settled for any other male. Devouring every word that they spoke, craving their compliments like a snake craving the sun. Desiring men’s attention so she can bathe in their compliments, she’d fall for every trap they set, believing they loved her deep down, that she was their most prized possession. Any perspective other than hers, you could easily notice they showed no true care for her, she was just an accessory to them. To her, it was her way out, to please every man on Earth, and he’ll reward her. She needed the attention, the thought that someone cared for her, that she was worthy. Hanging onto every guy that comes around, doing anything they say to do. 

Meanwhile, downstairs, their mother drowns herself in the past and guilt. For every mistake she made, she took a shot. We’ve all made many mistakes, some more than others. She made sure for every microscopic mistake she made, she was punished. She was so ashamed of the things she did she’d drink till she couldn't feel her body. Till she couldn't feel her mind. She regretted everything about her past. Except for her children, although at times they were just a reminder of what a failure she was. She hid behind her bedroom door, in fear she would make more mistakes or be reminded of the ones she’s already made. Between the liquor and self-shame it would become too much to handle. She was convinced nothing could fix her. Instead of solving or moving on from her past, she embraced it in the worst possible way. Blades became her second best friend, alcohol being the first. Cutting, drinking, shaming. Each and every day. No control or mental stability.

  The father you ask? He’s behind bars, contemplating if he’ll ever outlive his sentence. He’s unaware he has a second child. He only knows of his son. He’s told that his family is okay when in reality, they are falling apart day by day. This family is more like a boy, a girl, a mother, and a father. Each individual, no unity. There is no family representation.

Others see them as a loner, a whore, an alcoholic, and a criminal. 

I see four potential souls which I can take in. You may be wondering who I am. I am what happens before the Great Beyond, I am what causes funerals. I am Death. Don’t be so shocked, it's not that mind-blowing. 

I'm sure you can now understand how badly I wanted this family to crumble. More pleasure for me. And I was set on taking this family; they were already practically handing me their lives. Each day is a devastating wait. It’s more painful than sitting in line behind someone who doesn't know what to order. Seventy-eight days I waited, I think, I’m not quite sure, I gave up counting. The boy had tried, he’d been trying for the past seventeen years, but he gave up. And I watched him do so. I watched as his mind faded away. As he left his house and walked. He walked for an hour or so until he made it to his destination, a bridge. He stood there, then proceeded to climb onto the railing. I wanted to take his soul right then and there, but I knew I had to wait just a moment more. He almost seemed like he would just pass me his life. He just about did. He stared ahead and stepped off the edge and fell, slowly, swiftly. His body fell so gracefully, falling like a leaf in the wind. His face appeared full of emotions, yet they were all heavily blanketed in gray. He was happy yet regretful, glad yet sad, hopeful but drained. As his body hit the water I did my job. Swooping in and taking his soul, there was restraint, almost as if he didn't want to die. Like maybe there was a purpose for him on Earth. I may have even chuckled at that moment because it was too late. His soul was mine, his body was for the police to recover later on. 

One down, three to go. The mother wasn’t too far behind her son. The news was horrific, at least for her. I smirked, this was easier than I thought. She had let her kid down, now he was dead. Because she couldn’t be a good enough mother. She just kept blaming herself. For all of it. Her mind kept finding more reasons she was a failure. Causing thoughts to run through her head at a million miles per hour. Her heart rate increased quickly, her mind becoming uncontrollable. Everything around her was spinning, going blurry, causing her to fall to her knees. The world was not on her side today, or ever, if we’re being honest. She sat there on the floor, in pain, shock, all of it. She looked up in hopes to have a clear vision to find help, only to make eye contact with me. She was staring me in the eyes when the fear kicked in and she knew it was over. Her body was giving up on her and we both knew it. Her heart, overwhelmed with the situation, gave up. Unable to support her. Again, I did my job. Walking towards her and picking up her soul, this time there was no restraint whatsoever. Not that that mattered, there was no chance she could live even if there was resistance.

I was excited, I don't see why you’re so down. It’s not that sad, honestly, get over it. Death is Death. I am who I am, what can I say? I have to do my job one way or another. I was hoping I could take all the souls in this struggling family. However, I got cheated. The sister who was the first informed about her brother and mother passing. I anticipated that the sister would follow in her mother’s footsteps, heart failure, though that was not the case. Some would say she took it like a champ. I say she performed terribly, she didn’t fall to her knees. She only hung her head, and only for a moment or two. She then continued on with her man-filled life.

  There was one man she knew she needed to visit, but she avoided that day for as long as possible. Then there was the day she got the courage to go see him. Her father. The one locked up. She went to meet him one day during visiting hours. She was anxious and shy, a side no one’s seen in her. You humans would call this situation sentimental. I call it pathetic. Her father was confused by this random appearance of kin he’d never met. The tears that fell from his eyes were from happiness and sadness. He’d lost his wife and his son. Now he only had a daughter, who was left to live with other relatives. The daughter and father spoke until the time was up. The daughter walked out of the facility feeling more connected with a being than she’d ever had before. Her world changed, maybe even for the better. Every opportunity she got she went to see him. Their bond became stronger after each visit. I wish I could tell you that the father never outlived his sentence or something tragic happened to the girl. But that, I cannot do. For I knew this family or whatever they were, were becoming too connected to destroy. Too reunited. Too saved from their own tragedy. I left the family and moved on. There were other souls I could take much easier. I was wasting my time if I stayed any longer. I have no clue what that so-called family is doing or where they are now. But I’m sure I'll eventually take their souls, one day or another. That’s too far into the future, this story ends here. All I can say is that this torn-up family will see each other in the afterlife, and maybe then they will all be reunited. Or not they could stay unconnected with one another, but that’s their choice, not mine. As I said this story ends here, I do apologize, I wish there was more to tell.


The author's comments:

This is a new style for me, I chose to write from Death’s perspective. BE AWARE ITS QUITE DARK AND INTENSE!! I’m thirteen and I absolutely love writing, if there’s a way please give feedback!


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