Beach Day

42: Therapy is MKUltra (Real)

"You know, that's not an apt comparison—"

"And Frankenstein was the doctor. Yes, I'm aware." She takes a second, still considering what comes next. "You could ask Tiff. Sometimes you're just supposed to die, and you don't— And something brings you back."

"What does that have to do with me?" Tiff props herself up on one arm. "I've never died before."

"Yes you absolutely have."

"Do I look dead to you?"

"Tiff. Grapenut. We just went over this. You don't have to be dead to have died."

"Let's agree to disagree, then."

"About you dying? Young lady, I know—"

"Agree to disagree!" Tiff only laughs a little. "It wasn't permanent! It doesn't count if it wasn't permanent!"

"And we will agree to disagree on that." Esther looks back to her son. "You don't have to believe me. But that's why. There were a lot of things happening, I was unable to finish this goal while I was here, and now it's... a little too late, I think."

There's something she isn't saying. Tiff isn't sure, but she thinks it might be the same thing that went unspoken when Mr. Mathew had to fight the extradimensional shadow creatures. It's a deviation from the norm that thrusts someone trying desperately to be normal to center stage with no real training, no lines, and a spotlight squarely on them. Even without outside factors like your parents kicking you, a pregnant teenage girl, out of the house, or worrying about your teenage son while spending time with his friends, it's an odd position to be in. Some might say it's terrifying. Tiff wouldn't know. She's the exact opposite of all of them.

Her aunt keeps speaking. "I was... I was seventeen, I died in the woods, and my father made me leave while I was trying to wash the blood out of my shirt at the kitchen sink. I didn't have much of a choice. And I do now, but— I can't, Drew. I can't. I won't. So, yes, I'm in that weird book my brother had in his garage, and, yes, I'm supposed to do all sorts of things and be damned by the end of it. I'm supposed to lose everyone and everything. If I can keep that at bay a little longer, then I'm going to. I care too much about you— both of you— to lose you."

There's a long moment of quiet that only breaks when Esther breaks it.

"Alright. I think that's enough of an outburst from me. I'll leave those to Tiff in the future."

She sits up. "Hey!"

"Love you too, kiddo."

Maybe the two of them know how to snap back to normal once a moment like that happens, but Drew seems not to. Maybe it's because he doesn't deal with this like they do; maybe it's because he's normal; maybe it's because he's not half-laying on a bed with a giant rat on his chest.

Whatever the case, he grimaces. "I think I'm going for a walk. There's just a lot to think about."

Esther nods, understanding. "Take your time, Drew."

"I don't think the whole 'chosen' thing is real, but... Mom, I love you. I wouldn't want to lose you, either."

"Well, you wouldn't," Tiff offers, trying to balance Kepler on her chest. (His hands digging into her skin is still an uncomfortable sensation.) "She would lose you."

"And you, Tiff. Don't forget to count yourself amongst Mom's many loved ones."

"I always will." She grins, like this is a joke normal people make in serious situations. "I'm the single-most unique person in this room in that I am entirely unlovable."