MARIGOLD // Dave Grohl

VII. This Is A Call (For Help)

Seattle, WA

May 1, 1994

CONTENT WARNING: SUBSTANCE ABUSE

"Is this in real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality."

Sarah laid on her hotel room bed, feeling as if she were losing all concepts of time. She was smoking a cigarette, occasionally reaching over to the ashtray on her nightstand to get rid of the fiery remains threatening to set her ablaze if they fell. Next to said ashtray was a pile of paper cups, a jug of Tito's vodka, a liter of Sprite, and a bag full of weed.

The portable radio was quietly playing Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen from the top of the dresser. Sarah sat up to get a cup, filling it with vodka and sprite.

"Put a gun against his head, pulled the trigger, now he's dead."

She'd drink to that.

Although, she was afraid that if she did, she would never stop.

Fuck it, she thought, taking a large gulp of her liquid death, immediately feeling her insides grow warm, almost burning from the amount of vodka. She laid back, letting the alcohol set in. Bohemian Rhapsody winded down to a close, the piano and gong pulling the ending together flawlessly. Everything sounded better while overmedicated.

She soon began to feel fully drunk, but it wasn't enough. Everything hurt. She rolled a joint and lit it, holding the joint in one hand and another cigarette in the other, taking turns with each inhalation device until she couldn't breathe. "I'm not like them, but I can pretend," the radio blared, and Sarah stopped what she was doing immediately. He was probably summoned by the amount of intoxicants in the room, the stupid fuck.

Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt. Kurt.

Her head fuzzy and her vision clouded, she reached down in her purse for her bottle of Rohypnol, downing one with the rest of the vodka left in her cup and shaking her head. A few minutes later, she felt her head get heavy, and she didn't even have a chance to fully lie down before her body slumped as she fully passed out.

"My heart is broke, but I have some glue / Help me inhale and mend it with you / We'll float around and hang out on clouds / Then we'll come down and have a hangover."

***

"Wow, you're a hot mess," Sarah heard a raspy voice say from the corner of the room, and she gasped, her ability to breathe suddenly leaving her as she turned her head to see Kurt standing there, shotgun in hand. She sat up, stunned. She had to be hallucinating, because there was no way on earth that Kurt was standing there with the same gun that Courtney had melted down last week. She "donated it to charity," as she put it. But there it was, in one piece, his hand firmly placed around the barrel, facing upwards. The wooden part was resting on his foot.

"Kurt, what-- why..." Sarah stuttered, and Kurt only stood there, watching Sarah lose her mind. "Why did you kill yourself?" Sarah got the full question out, and Kurt grimaced.

"You know I can't answer that question."

Sarah laughed incredulously, taking another hit of the blunt in her hand. "What the fuck does that even mean?! Of course you have an answer!! You died!"

"I did. And I'm sorry, Sarah. I will be eternally sorry. I can't take it back, though. I might be gone, but you're still here. So what are you going to do with yourself? Are you going to spend your time strung out in order to, on some sick level, connect with me? Or are you going to do what I wasn't able to and would never be able to do and quit this bullshit while you're still ahead and do something with your life?"

Sarah closed her eyes, trying to avoid Kurt's presence, but he wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm not like them, but I can pretend / The sun is gone, but I have a light," he sang, moving over to sit next to her on her bed, putting his free hand on her back. She flinched at his ghostly touch, now completely frightened. She heard ringing in her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah eyed the gun, and hastily grabbed for the gun, taking a hold of it in her own hand and throwing it across the room.

Kurt turned to Sarah, who was shaking.

"You can't change what already happened. You can only move forward."

She lifted her head to look at him, but he was gone.

***

She woke up, gasping. She checked the clock, and it was 4pm. Was she really out for that long?

The ringing telephone confirmed her rhetorical question, as that was the same ringing she heard during her encounter with Kurt. She was convinced that at least part of that was real. She reached for the phone, pulling it up to her ear and answering. She immediately heard James yelling on the other end of the line.

"Where the hell were you?!"

"Dead," Sarah muttered, sitting up and running a hand through her knotted hair. She looked over to where she threw the gun in her dream, and in its place was a shattered vase that was supposed to be on her nightstand. Oops.

"That's not funny, and you know it," James chastised his younger sister, and Sarah scoffed. "I gained the liberty to joke about death the second Kurt started using heroin."

"Where were you, though, if not really dead? I've been calling you since Monday night!" James said in frustration, and Sarah's eyes widened. Shit. How long had she been out?

"What day is it again?"

"Jesus fuck, Sarah, get your shit together!"

"Just tell me, goddamnit!"

"Wednesday!"

She had been asleep for almost two whole days. It was a miracle that she didn't choke on her own vomit, given her combination of sleeping pills and alcohol. "Sorry, James, I'm gonna get my shit together. This is so unlike me. I'll be okay, I promise."

"You're scaring me, Sarah," James admitted, and Sarah felt increasingly guilty. "Please call me if you need anything."

"I will," Sarah promised, putting the receiver down, hanging up.

Well, at least she was well rested.

A/N Hallucination Kurt 😩 ok but in all seriousness I'd love it if y'all could listen to my Everlong cover. I promise this isn't the only Foos song I know it's just my favorite ngl. (I have a few more I plan to release soon). Until next time, stay safe ily

xoNyquila