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" YOU SICKOS ARE WORSE THAN THIS ATTACKER. "
alexa, play WHERE'S MY LOVE by syml (acoustic)
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"Be easy with her, okay?" Dad's voice was sweet and sincere, as it usually is.
He was driving me to the hospital to visit Tara. Now, of course, I could've gotten a ride from Wes or Amber or Mindy or Chad, but I didn't really trust anybody else to drive me anywhere. Plus, car rides with my father were always the sweetest car rides to exist. Whether we were talking about our days or singing the lyrics of our favorite songs to one another, they always meant the world to me. He meant the world to me.
"You know, all this Ghostface stuff, it's never easy on anybody-especially not the first victim." He was going on a tangent, but I could never be annoyed about that. I always took his words into the utmost amount of consideration, and I always tried to write the extra important things down. "That being said, uh, nobody has ever survived the first attack before, so...you get it, right? It'll be a lot for her to deal with, be easy on her."
"I will, Dad, don't worry-"
"No, nope, I'm not worried." His shiny eyes were stuck on the road ahead, and a pang of guilt struck me like a ton of bricks.
"Sorry Sheriff, I really did try to talk him into helping you out, but he just wasn't up for it." I played out different scenarios in my head for when I would be telling Miss Hicks that Dad wasn't willing or ready to help with the new Ghostface case. "You know how he gets when he gets his mind set in one way, right?" "Yeah! Of course I do, thank you for trying, Tatum. All that matters is that you tried. Have a nice day." The chances of it actually going that way were slim to none, but hey, a girl can dream, right?
"It'll be okay, Dad." I gave him a half-pat on his arm, pressing my lips into a thin smile. "We'll protect each other, and I promise to never let me get out of your sight unless I'm with a trusted adult-"
"And no one-on-one with a love interest." He reminded me the full set of rules I'd come up with at eleven years old.
"And there will be no one-on-one with a love interest, no matter how much I think I can trust them." I reassured him, my smile growing more genuine despite how serious our words were. Tones could be deceiving, and almost always will be deceiving. "And no parties with friends, no going into the basement regardless of the household I'm in-am I missing anything?"
"No accepting necklaces from anybody. Especially a love interest."
"What? Wait, I don't remember that one-" I turned in the seat, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
"It's a new one. Please, please just listen to it. If you, a 'legacy kid', are given a necklace by anybody, don't accept it. Say thank you and give it back and stop associating with that person. They will die."
"Dad, are you okay?" I asked, scratching the back of my head.
He scratched the back of his head as well, shrugging in the tiniest way possible. "Just thought it was all over, you know?"
I nodded and took his hand, holding it with both of my own hands and then holding it to my chest. I allowed my forehead to rest on my father's slightly shaking hand, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to not let any tears escape. Did I understand why my father's words made me as emotional as they just did? No, but here I was, actively having to figure out a quick way to cope with this situation. This must suck for him, if having to worry about his friends before wasn't an issue, now he has a daughter to look after. To protect. That's the sort of man that Dewey Riley is-protect, protect, protect, and no looking back.
We spent the rest of the car ride without a single movement, only moving once we got out of the car and started to head towards the main entrance of the hospital. Almost instantly were news reporters and journalists hounding Dad and I, trying to get answers to stupid questions. It was insensitive, but I knew why they were asking us these questions. I was the Dewey Riley's daughter, and Dewey Riley was walking right next to me.
"Do you think there will be another attack, Mr. Riley?!"
"Do you think this is another copycat of Ghostface?"
"Is your friend alive?!"
"Who do you think will be targeted next?!"
"Do you fear that your daughter will be a victim?!"
"Will your daughter take up the Riley legacy?!"
"Who do you think the killer is?"
"Is your daughter the killer?"
"Is your daughter going to die next?!"
"Can you get us inside to ask a couple of questions about Tara's condition?!"
I felt like I couldn't breathe, my body was shaking; I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my pink zip up after putting the hood over my head. The tears in my eyes were beginning to boil over, I couldn't see straight. My breathing wouldn't stop hitching every five seconds, I didn't know what to do. I wasn't going to answer any of their questions, but the more panicked I became, the more vulnerable I became, and the more vulnerable I become, the more likely it is for my mind to go into an all time shut down, and nobody wants that. I wanted to scream, but my voice was ripped from my lungs. Their questions were getting louder. A camera and microphone was shoved in my face aggressively enough for me to flinch and bury my head in my father's chest.
"Everybody back up! How rude can you get?" Dad was saving the day all the while keeping one arm wrapped around my shoulders, rubbing his thumb side to side against my left shoulder-blade in a way that he knew was always comforting to me. "Her friend was attacked, for Christ's sake, leave her be! My daughter's not dying; you sickos are worse than this attacker."
We made it safely through the hospital doors, and only once we were in the elevators on the way to Tara's floor did I pull myself away from my father's arms. Not because I was being a stuck up bitch, but because I had finally pulled myself together enough. I smiled sadly at Dad as he wiped away the last of my tears, and then I couldn't handle it again, so I pulled him back for yet another full-on hug.
"Reporters suck," was all I could find myself capable of saying.
"Believe me, I know." He chuckled, which caused me to laugh as well, because we both knew exactly who he was talking about.
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Walking into Tara's room provided an unreal feeling of reality setting in. This really happened-that was the only thought that circulated my head as Tara told us what she could remember. She described it all. Once our tears dried, we started to fill her in on how crazy the outside world was becoming; Dad left to go grab some food from the hospital's cafeteria and gave me a sweet side hug. I'm pretty sure I'd be receiving a lot of hugs from not only my dad, but from everybody who even remotely gave a fuck about my existence. Just as Tara made a joke about never wanting to go outside again, two people came into the room-one of which I thought would never show her face again, and the other man-boy looked like a gay criminal who only got caught for stealing a bracelet from Justice and claimed it was for his sister.
Oddly specific, I'm aware, but that's the product of being friends with Brielle and Laina Macher-oddly specific inside jokes. The entire friend group rose from the chairs and extra hospital bed we had been sitting on; I offered a soft smile in Sam's direction and nervously looked towards the guy. Wes put his hand on the small of my back, and I took a step closer to close in the space between us.
"Hi," Sam said to Tara as she bent to her knees at the side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"You came." Tara seemed to be in shock, but then it sunk in that she was most likely high on pain meds.
"Of course I came." The older sister looked back at the creepy guy. "This is my boyfriend, Richie."
"It's so nice meeting you, and I'm-I'm so sorry if I'm intruding." His voice sounded sweet.
I trust him. Sorry Dad, my trust issues aren't as terrible as yours have become. Not yet, anyways. Probably soon.
"Nice to meet you too." Tara said, giving a small wave to Richie.
Sam stood up and hugged Mindy, then Chad, then Laina, then Brielle, and then she got to me. I couldn't help but melt into the hug in the same way I had in 2011, when I found out my mother was in the hospital. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to keep those memories locked in their cage, but the locks were getting rusty. It wouldn't hold for much longer, but I could still cherish the peace for now.
"You've grown so much, Tates." Sam laughed in a comforting way, offering a sympathetic smile as she pulled back from the hug. "Do you still love Taylor Swift?"
"Oh, All Too Well ruined me, absolutely." I laughed as well, wrapping myself in a hug and holding back random tears.
Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.
"You and me both, then." She moved to hug Wes, thanking him for calling her about Tara in the first place.
He's such a sweetheart, my gosh...what did I do to deserve him? I played with the fraying hem of my left sleeve, zoning out as conversations continued. Something about Wes's hair, I think Sam at one point was explaining who we were to her boyfriend, and then Amber was being more of an overly bitchy girlfriend. Suddenly, Brielle's hand was tapping my shoulder.
"Hmm?" I turned to face her, and she offered a soft smile.
"Tara needs to rest, c'mon. Lets go, kay?" I nodded at her words, and all of us-excluding Sam-walked out of Tara's room.
"Hey, kiddos!" Dad had the brightest smile on his face; his hands were full food. Of course, it was in a sanitary fashion, and it made my heart melt. "I got all of us some food...is Tara doing okay?"
"Yeah, she's okay, just tired." I nodded, taking a bagel from one of the two plates Dad carried and kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you for getting all of this..."
I wanted to sob. His soul was so pure, even after everything he's been through. How did he manage to do it? How has he managed to stay so happy? I could never be able to keep up with staying happy. I think I would just curl up in a tiny ball, and never let anybody inside again.
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:sobs: