The Deafening Silence of Toby Puckett

Dad?

I walk to my bag and pull out my newborn yet cracked to shit phone, and my charger. They kind of let themselves in, eventually.

I run upstairs and plug it in behind the locked bathroom door.. When it finally turns on, I notice that I have 0,missed calls.

I notice 0 voicemails.

I notice 26 messages from plenty of different people, including my mother.

She can go fuck herself.

The police call me down for questioning.

"Toby?..."

"I know this is difficult for you, but we're going to have to ask you a few questions."

There it is again. No you don't, Officer Jackass.

"Riddle me this, Mister, how would you handle coming home, after being raped, to your father who had shot himself. You were too fucked up to answer your phone, but that wouldn't matter anyway! Because he didn't bother trying to talk to you... You honestly think I want to fucking talk about this..."

I shake my head and bite my lip.

"ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH?!"

I start bawling again for a few minutes, and they let me do so in silence. Mainly because they didn't know what to do, I don't think.

"I didn't mean to let him. I didn't mean to..."

I started whispering. My ears were ringing. They had been since I had woken up.

"I tried so hard to be there for him."

I scream over the ringing in my ears and cover them.

"Why am I never good enough. Why am I never good enough. WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING?! DIDN'T ANYONE HEAR THE SHOT?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"

I burst out of the bathroom and re-enter the scene. My father pulls my sinking heart to the ground as I hold my stomach to the feeling of vomit, crawling up my esophagus. I'm just lucky my hair was already up.

The policemen stand and just watch silently until they realize they can't get anything other than emotional and actual vomit out of me.

I can't stop crying, when I finally look up..

He's already gone, I didn't get to say goodbye, I'd been too busy throwing up a week's worth of food.

"Toby, is it?"

I nod as this social worker, I'm assuming, hands me an unopened box of tissues and some water. I'm finally okay to stand, so she walks me out to a police car. It's just like in the movies, the blue and red lights are flashing as my legs are dangling out of the backseat. I'm holding a bucket with a blanket draped over my frail, shaking corpse. Water bottle on standby. Now they're asking me questions.

As my brain goes to auto pilot, I begin to think of Mox. Her mother, the remaining parent, passed a little less than a year ago due to suicide after developing some sort of major depressive disorder and a drug addiction. Their relationship fell apart after that and Mox too, developed a mental disorder called Schizophrenia. I don't blame her for running I guess, her mother didn't seem to really care anymore. I just wish she'd stayed with me when she didn't feel safe at home. It still doesn't seem real, she's been missing for about a month now. No leads. Probably ran away again. Although she's left me stranded when I need her most, she's still my best friend. She always will be.

"Toby?"

Mandy, that social worker, interrupts me, bringing the silence to my attention, I had been so lost in thought that I had forgotten that she was talking; that anything had happened. As I'm reminded, I bawl again and fill the bucket to about half way. The social worker sighs out of pity and hands me another, unopened, plastic water bottle. I'm hyperventilating, my sight is fading, and my ears are ringing. My forehead meets the pavement.

"I think she's awake"

My eyes open weakly, they're filled with blur. I'm so exhausted from the crying and the vomiting. I notice I'm in bed and I roll over to find comfort, only I don't. I find IV fluids swimming through my veins and Mandy, aggravating the shit out of my nerves already. As all hospital guests know, an iv needle is not comfortable. My left arm feels like it's on a stick. Intravenous Therapy and all.

"What the fuck!"

I lift my head up and look right at Mandy. That goddamn bitch, Mandy.

"Toby,"

She pulls her clipboard from under her arm and clicks her pen.

"Yes, Mandy?"

I mock her. She sighs in return.

"Were you under the influence of any drugs or alcohol the night your father.."

"Died? Yeah, it wasn't fucking on me though. Definitely drank on purpose, the drugs, I couldn't tell you. I'm sure I was on something, some guy was buying me drinks all night. I'd be more surprised if there wasn't some sort of fucked drug in my system. Probably the same dipshit who dropped me off on my goddamn porch this morning."

She's writing shit down.

"Did you know this man?".

"No."

Yeah..

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

Still writing shit down.

"Um. Stubble, brown hair, blue eyes, medium build, blue eyes."

I look up and furrow a brow every other detail or so to make it appear as though I'm trying to remember. In all seriousness, I'm pretty sure the dipshit was Jeremy, that ginger from chem.

"Do you know what he gave you, if he gave you anything?

"Liquid Ecstasy, if anything."

"Gamma-hydroxybutyric acid..."

She says as she fucking writes it down.

"I'll let the doctor know."

"WAIT. Mandy! Why am I here?"

She just kept walking like she didn't here me. What a goddamn bitch, that Mandy.