Hello! Shortish chapter :)
Happy reading!
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"Okay, you just have to sign here and here." The nurse pointed to two blank lines with x's written next to them. George hummed and signed his signature on the designated spots. When he finished skimming the fine print, he handed the clipboard back to the nurse who took it behind the desk. She started typing on her computer before signaling for him to go back into the room.
George nodded and trudged back into the critical floor hospital room. He silently opened the door and slipped in.
Beth was sitting in one of the chairs next to Sophia's hospital bed. She had a pained look on her face while holding her mom's hand. "I'm sorry, I tried." She whispered.
A small, nearly invisible tear slipped down Beth's cheek and dripped off her jaw and onto the bedsheets.
"Hey," George said quietly as he pulled out a chair next to his sister. She hummed in response and whipped her tears away. "Is it done?" George nodded and patted Beth's back.
"Yeah, I just signed the papers." Beth nodded and closed her eyes. "We're doing the right thing, right? Giving her organs up or whatever?" George hummed and nodded. "At least this way she would have helped someone else."
The two siblings fell into silence, the echoing of hospital monitors filled the room. The sound had become white noise that they've grown accustomed to. In the end, George and Beth both decided to donate Sophia's organs because they felt it was sort of a waste to just let them die. It mostly helped put Beth's mind at ease with the whole 'I killed dad and now I'm killing my mom' mindset.
The short, momentary, silence was interrupted by a female nurse walking in. She had her hair tied up into a messy bun with a pen behind her ear. She was holding a clipboard in one hand and a coffee in the other.
"Good afternoon, I'm nurse Mae but feel free to call me Annabel." The nurse introduced herself. Beth hummed and gave a weak smile before saying 'hello' back.
"I'm going to start prepping Sophia for the extraction surgery. We need Mr. Davidson here to sign a few more papers before we proceed." Annabel extended her clipboard forwards. George nodded and took the clipboard. He took a pen out of his hoodie pocket and signed his name on the dotted lines, eager to get this over with.
"Thank you," Annabel hummed as she took the clipboard from George. She took the pen from behind her ear and wrote a few things on the paper before putting it back to its original spot.
"She will be prepped in about 15 minutes, is there anything you guys need in the meantime?" George and Beth shook their heads. Beth had given up on the idea of trying to hide her tears, it was obvious that she was devastated. It was her mother after all.
"I'm extremely sorry for you both, if there is anything I can do just page me." And with that, Nurse Mae left the room to turn in the paperwork.
Beth sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve, "We're going to be on our own now, huh?" She gave a dry laugh, not one of humor but one full of the overwhelming shock of reality. George hummed and pulled his sister into a hug. "It's going to be okay, we have each other."
Beth hugged back, or tried to because her arm feigned it difficult to do so. "I kind of hated her, you know?" Beth confessed. George hummed and nodded, "Yeah, I know."
"She didn't do anything to help us for the past years, nothing. She only started trying for the past month or so, it's not fair." Beth exclaimed. She pushed away from the hug and looked over at her still body on the bed. "Why couldn't she have made an effort earlier? Maybe then she would still be here."
"It's not fair that she is putting me through this. She was barely even there, ya know? What gives her the right to just put me in a position like this? To put us in a position like this? God, George, you just signed the fucking organ donation papers or some shit!"
More tears started to run down Beth's face, snot starting to disgustingly bubble in her nose. "Why couldn't she have been like this earlier?! It's not fair! Not fair!" Beth sniffled, "Why couldn't you be a mum earlier?! I needed you!" Beth abruptly stood up from her chair and paced back and forth through the room.
"I wish that she didn't even try to make an effort at all. What was the point? To get me attached then just leave? Bullshit! It's all bullshit! I needed a mum! I-If you were nicer and more present you would probably be here! You wouldn't be a fucking vegetable, you would be at home watching your stupid crime tv shows and sipping your stupid chamomile mint tea or something!" George just let Beth go on, he let her vent because god knows she needs it.
"You don't have the right to just die like this! You have kids, you have to be a parent until you're all old and wrinkly! It isn't fair that you get to go off easy like this and just leave us here!" Beth continued to throw her hands up in wild gestures, occasionally wiping her nose and eyes.
"Also, why were you such an asshole for years?! Why did you have to just be a complete disappointment of a mum up until 2 months ago?!" Beth pointed a lazy finger at the hospital bed. George pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.
"It's not fair that I got a taste of an actual mum for only 2 months! God!" Beth huffed in frustration and brought the back of her hand to her mouth to muffle a choked cry. It was good that she was getting out what she had been bottling up for who knows how long.
"I wish that you could have suffered as much as we did but now look at you! You're going to be stripped of your organs for some other person that needs them! Oh my god" Beth groaned out of anger and frustration as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"You shouldn't be the one dying here! You should be at home right now!" Beth brought her hand back up to her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut. She slowly walked over to the foot of the bed and placed her hand on the frame. She blinked and just stared at the body that laid in the bed.
"I'm so mad at you, so, so mad. You deserved a lot of things, but this. This wasn't one of them." Beth said. George just blinked his tears away and wiped them with his hoodie sleeve.
"I- I'm going to just-" Beth turned on her heel and sped walked out the door. George sighed and pulled his legs away from his chest. He grabbed one of his mom's hands and held it.
George sucked in a short breath and exhaled. "She means well. You and Dad put her through shit. She's angry, but Beth has her reasons." George whispered. "You didn't deserve this, I'm sorry mom. I'm so, so sorry." George brought their clasped hands up to his forehead and leaned on them.
"I know you probably can't hear us but just know I do love you. You may have been a shit mom, but you were the only shit mom I had." George let out a soft sob and disconnected their hands before standing up.
"I'll take care of her, mom, I always do. You don't have to worry about us."
-
"How'd it go?" Clay asked, wrapping his arms around George's waist. The other shrugged and leaned his head on Clay's shoulder. "They just took her in for surgery."
They were currently out in the parking lot by Clay's car.
The taller hummed and planted a soft kiss ontop of George's head. "Where's Beth?" George hummed and closed his eyes, relaxing in his boyfriend's grip. "She went to go blow off some steam with Drista and Tommy."
"Blow off steam?" George nodded and lifted his head off Clay's shoulder and placed his chin on the other's chest. He looked up and hummed. "They usually go out on the outskirts of town where that old junkyard is and break shit with their baseball bats."
"How did I not know of this?" George shrugged. "I don't know, it probably never came up." The blond nodded and pressed a soft kiss onto George's nose. "What now?"
George groaned and leaned his forehead on Clay's chest. "Now I have to go make funeral plans and shit." Clay hummed and gently rubbed George's hips. "I don't want to do funeral stuff right now, can we do something else?" George asked with a slight whine in his voice.
"Sure, but I don't think it's best to procrastinate on this type of thing." Clay said, dragging his hands up and down George's back. The brunette groaned and rolled his eyes, "I know, I know. I'll just do it tomorrow."
Clay hummed and pushed George lightly away from him. "We can go to your house and pack?" George thought about it for a minute before nodding with a sigh. "Alright."
-
George stood inches in front of the large wooden door of his house. He hadn't been back since that night and he frankly didn't want to go in. However, he knew he had to so he stuck his hand into his pocket and fished out his keys.
With shaky hands, he managed to put the key in the lock and unlock the door. When he pushed it open, the overwhelming smell of chemicals and cleaner attacked his nose. George put a hand up over his nose to help alleviate the smell.
"We aren't really going to take anything downstairs," George mumbled before stepping inside. It was eerily cold, which was expected because the heater wasn't turned on. It still freaked him out, nonetheless.
Clay hummed and walked in behind George. The blond intertwined their hands and George led them to the stairs, avoiding the kitchen as best as he could.
"Okay, it lowkey might be in a mess in here." George laughed. The blond nodded with a slight smile. George pushed the door open and was met with the undisturbed setting of his bedroom.
The shelves with vinyls and records were untouched. His vanity that had his cosmetic products and makeup was untouched. His dresser and closet seemed to be untouched. It was as if he never left.
George leaned back onto his desk and crossed his arms with a sigh. Clay sat down on the bed and tilted his head to the side, "What do you want to start with?" George shrugged and stood up straight. "I need to go get boxes," he noted.
"I'll get them from the garage. I'll be right back." George said and walked out the door. For some reason, his room felt suffocating. Maybe it wasn't his room per se, but it was the entire house. The house felt suffocating. It was scarily quiet, not even the hum of the air conditioning could be heard. It simply made George feel uneasy.
There was no smell of alcohol, not sound of the faint tv playing in the living room, not smell of bo that Nathan would emit. It was a normal house that just had a dead body sprawled in the kitchen about a week ago.
He stumbled through the house, the tapping of shoes hitting the hardwood floor bounced off the walls. When he made it to the garage, he wasted no time grabbing boxes that were laid against the wall and hurried to go back inside.
He reluctantly walked towards the kitchen to get garbage bags. His eyes scanned the kitchen that was clean. The cabinets were no longer splattered with blood. The white tile wasn't stained red. It looked normal, as normal as a kitchen could be. However, the only thing George could see when he looked at the space was the blood. The blood and the sound of police radios and sirens. He couldn't get the image out of his head, all of it stayed planted in his brain so it could be replayed every day, all day.
He quickly grabbed the roll out of the cabinet and left the kitchen, sudden shivers pricking at his skin.
As he walked down the hall downstairs, his eyes scanned the various family pictures that littered the wall and shelves. Pictures that looked like the average suburban family. Too bad that was the opposite of what he and Beth had.
A certain picture caught his eye. It was a selfie of Beth, George, and Sophia posed in front of a baseball field. Beth had her gear on with a bright smile on her face, a genuine smile on her face. The picture was quite old given that the scar that ran through her eyebrow was not there.
He lightly smiled, trying to recall the memory. It was Beth's first real baseball game and she was so hyped. She was up early cooking breakfast and was racing around the house in excitement.
George could remember his mom chasing Beth around the house, trying to catch her so she could tie her hair up. That was one of the rare days they had with mom. It was one of his favorite memories of them, partially because his dad wasn't in the picture. He didn't attend the game, thank god.
George grabbed the photo off the table and continued walking. When he made it to his room he spotted Clay already folding some of his clothes on the bed.
"You don't have to help me, you know," George mumbled while placing the boxes down on the bed. Clay shrugged and shook his head, "I know, I want to help you."
George let a small smile tug at his lips and nodded, "Well, thank you." Clay smiled and nudged George's side. "Anytime."
George grabbed a garbage bag and walked over to his closet. He grabbed a handful of shirts that were hanging on hangers and placed them in the bag, the hangers sticking out of the top. He had found an easier, more efficient way to pack clothes that were on hangers. George didn't have the energy to fold each individual shirt so he went with the easier option.
When the brunette walked out of the closet, a bunch of bags of shirts in hand, he laid them on his bed.
"Hey Clay?" The blond hummed and looked away from the pants he was currently folding. "I think I might get a belly button piercing." Clay's eyes widened and a smirk tugged at his lips.
"Oh yeah?" He smiled. George scoffed and swatted at his boyfriend's arm. "You're such a freak." Clay hummed in mild agreement and reached a hand across to George. He wrapped his arm around his boyfriend's waist and pulled the brunette towards him.
"I wouldn't be opposed to it." Clay smirked. George rolled his eyes and scoffed, "Of course you wouldn't."
George wrapped his arms around the blond's neck and leaned their foreheads together. George smiled and pecked Clay on the nose. "Thank you," George whispered. The blond tilted his head in confusion, "For what?"
George breathed in through his nose and closed his eyes, "For being here." He said. Clay nodded and kissed George. "I'll always be here, you can't get rid of me that easily."
"I'll hold you to that." George smiled and kissed Clay again.
-
Beth's POV
Beth's grip on her baseball bat didn't loosen. Her knuckles faded from red to white. She was currently sitting on the hood of some rusted car that was dumped in the junkyard.
"Okay, so I bought some cheap glass plates that we can break. I also brought a marker if you wanted to write on them" Drista said, placing the bag of plates on the hood next to Beth.
"Alright, sweet." Beth mumbled, taking a plate out of the bag and taking the sharpie from Drista. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at the empty white plate.
Beth was the kind, funny, organized, composed, and social type of person. Everyone loved her, but they didn't know the real her. The her that has the obvious daddy issues. The slight mommy issues. Years of emotional baggage and trauma. Not many knew that part of her because she simply didn't show it.
She didn't express it. She shoved it into a closet and locked the door to which only she had the key. Beth didn't want the pity. She didn't want people to feel sorry for her or look at her differently.
Beth just wanted to be normal. Every year on her birthday when they had that awfully large cupcake with a candle sticking out of the top, Beth wished for the same thing every year.
She would close her eyes, take a deep breath, and hope. She would hope that maybe the cheesy tradition to make a wish on your birthday before blowing out the candles would come true. She would wish for her and George to be free. To be let go, out of their parents' grasp. To be able to throw that key into the ocean and forget about it. To not have to carry the lasting effects of abuse with them. She just wanted to forget it. All of it.
Never in a million years would Beth think that this is how it would have gone. Never in a million years would she expect herself to plunge a knife into her dad's chest. Never in a million years would she have fathomed the idea of signing DNR and organ donation papers when she was only 15 years old. Never in her life did she even imagine the idea of being an orphan before she hit the age of 18.
Beth uncapped the sharpie and started scribbling down messy words on the plate. Her handwriting was normally perfect and neat but today wasn't the case. Her hands were shaking and she could barely write straight.
She wrote everything down. Every single thing she wished she said to her parents. Every little thing she wished she did differently. Every regret she held in. When that plate was filled up, she grabbed another one. Her hands wouldn't stop writing.
From every time her dad would hurt her and leave physical and emotional scars, to the times she had genuine belief that they could change and was constantly let down. Beth was never to write in a diary or journal, she didn't feel as it was necessary.
Beth never really found the need to write in a journal. How would it have helped her? She didn't know that writing down every little thing that was sitting in her mind would be such a big relief. A weight being lifted off her shoulders.
When Beth finished writing on the third plate she pocketed the sharpie. Both Tommy and Drista were talking, waiting for Beth to finish. They finished writing on their own plates a while ago. Beth hopped off the car and dropped her bat into the dirt.
"Go to hell." Beth mumbled before throwing one of the plates at a trashed car. Shards of white littered the ground. The sound of glass breaking was sort of anticlimactic. She wished she could say she loved the sound but in reality, it just reminded her of the trauma she went through on a daily basis.
The broken beer bottles, the broken liquor bottles, the broken plates, the broken bowls, the broken shoulder. Everything In that damn house was broken, everyone that lived in that hell hole was broken, they were (and are) all messed up.
The Davidson's. The family full of physically and emotionally traumatized children. Starring their abusive father, featuring their bipolar and manipulative mother.
Beth leaned up against one of the cars before sliding down and sitting on the dirt. She didn't even care if she got rocks in her shoes or if her sweatpants turned brown.
There was the sound of shuffling on either side of Beth. Both Drista and Tommy were sitting down at her side. Tommy was holding one hand, Drista holding the other.
"What do I do?" Beth mumbled. She rested her head on her boyfriend's shoulder and closed her eyes, letting an unexpected tear run down her face.
Drista hummed and patted Beth's leg. "You move on." The blonde said. Tommy nodded and ran a hand through Beth's hair. "How?" The brunette asked. "How do I move on from this?"
"You only have to worry about yourself now. Let your mind and body heal," Drista said. Beth shook her head. "I don't know how to do that." She confessed.
"We'll be right here to help." Tommy added. Beth hummed and leaned further into him. "Beth, you can heal now, it's okay."
The brunette sighed and nodded, "Yeah, you guys are right." Beth hummed and opened her eyes.
It'll get better from here.
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Word Count: 3747
A/N: Hi. Quick thing, I see each and every one of your comments. Like, I look at all of them. You guys are funny lmao- Sorry I haven't updated in a hot minute :) Anyways, I love u my little Oreos:] Please take a break drink water, and try to eat <3 you are loved!
Votesies? :]
A follow maybe 👀
Discord server link is in my bio, join it lol (if it doesn't work comment here so I can change the invite link) Also, the thing about joining the discord is that you also get access to sneak peeks for chapters, ideas for future books, and you sort of help when I have writer's block.
You should go read "Yours, Truly" by Thebreadstealer :D They also have another book out called "Knife to the Heart" You should read that too hehe, both are DNF!
Until next time my little baka's 👹
Lex<3
Head Cannon: Beth and Tommy found the junkyard on one of their date nights. It was the time Beth snuck out to go stargazing. Drives at 1am just hit different.
I'm going to my friend's house now, byee