Together Forever
Sam McDonald x reader
Chapter vii
TW: Cursing, smoking, death, some blood, minimal use of Y/n, English isn't my first language. WORD COUNT: 1.7K NOTE: Finally finished editing the next chapter :P but I gave up like half way so don't mind if there are any mistakes. You can also read it on Wattpad here. All Chapters.
The air inside the house was different, too quiet, too void of the usual teenage angst and the tacky Halloween spirit of smiling pumpkins and skeleton fridge magnets. It had the slightest hint of something sharp. When I rounded the corner to the kitchen, I choked, smashing into the table behind me.
Ginger and Brigitte were hovering over a body, Trina's body. Brigitte was covering her face. Both of them spun to look at me, but I couldn't take my eyes off the mess of hair, pale eyes and most of all, blood, that was seeping into spilled milk, poisoning it, tainting it with red, danger, death.
The sound of the garage door opening shook us all. Mom and dad were back from wherever they were. I leaped to Trina's body, grabbing it by the head.
"C'mon, let's uh..." I thought of any possible place to hide it. Ginger was mesmerized, continuously staring at the blood. Her eyes were swimming with something and it didn't look like regret. "Let's put her in the freezer, now!"
We stumbled around, getting her through the door. I could feel something sticky on my fingers and a tightness in my throat. I gulped it down. Mom and dad were practically in the house now, there was no time for the panic to take over. Brigitte grabbed her camera and I, along with Ginger, understood her idea.
When mom came into the kitchen, she flinched. "What did I tell you, girls! No more deaths inside the house!"
Ginger sprung up from the same spot Trina was just moments ago, pretending to be posing for one of those pictures they used to take for a school project. "Don't be mad," She pretended to pout.
I was leaning against the wall, trying to cover up that my heartbeat was overwhelming my whole body. Mom ordered us to clean it up and I pretended to be annoyed, yammering how I had nothing to do with this while she went off to put away meat she and dad bought from the store.
She always puts the meat in the freezer.
My body went cold.
Sharing a wide-eyed look with Brigitte, she took no time to run after.
When our parents finally went to bed, we got Trina's body out of the freezer, breaking off two Trina's fingers in the process, and carried her to the little house in the backyard. Brigitte told me everything that happened while Ginger didn't look one bit worried about the dead body.
"I don't think you should go out anymore," I sighed, looking at Ginger. She gave me a blank look.
"What? I'd go mental," She said.
Brigitte looked deep in thought. "We can make mom thing you're at school, and make school think you're home sick,"
"After everything clears up, we blow, as fast and far away as we can," I whispered, knowing we were in deep shit.
The next day was slow, filled with missing posters and Trina's clueless face. I couldn't focus on anything, remembering her stiff body and lifeless eyes, her possible last moments haunting me in between math equations and tectonic plates. I ended up skipping my last class, instead absent mindlessly going for a smoke out on the grass.
I didn't hear someone calling my name until they covered me in a looming shadow.
"Oh, sorry, I didn't hear you," I softly said and smiled up at Sam. He didn't return it, squinting at me with a concerned look.
"Yeah, I just saw you and you looked kind of out of it," He motioned between his van and me, one hand resting in his pocket. I looked at him blankly. "Are...are you okay?"
I grinned, dazed, letting my head fall back, looking up at him, trying to ignore the lifeless eyes that were burned into my head, appearing every time I closed my eyes. "Yeah, just a weird day,"
Sam frowned and a sudden heaviness returned to my body, grounding me and my mind, who has wondered off somewhere. The cigarette stayed mostly forgotten in my hand, a dead weight, the red tip flickering like a second heartbeat.
Sam sat down next to me on the grass. "I take it you've seen the missing posters?"
"Yeah..." I hummed. "They're hard to miss,"
"First, dogs, now people are going missing, god, what kind of mess are we fucking in," Sam tightly laughed, taking the cigarette from me. I let it slip between my fingers. "I mean, who knows what happened to her, she could be laying in a ditch somewhere, her parents must be awfully worried,"
"Aw, don't tell me you seriously care about her," I laughed, trying to keep the mood light.
"Who? Trina?" Sam looked at me mortified, but the corner of his lips turned up in the most charming way. "No, of course not, she like fifteen or something,"
I giggled at his expression and he bumped his shoulder to mine. The mood had lifted significantly, despite the mention of Trina, like I had a blindfold on this whole day and it had finally been pulled off, exposing my face to the glistering sun.
"How old are you anyways?" I asked as he flicked the ash. Sam's face dimmed a little and he watched the light breeze blow the ash into the world, not even leaving a hint of them.
"I would've graduated last year," He said, lifting the dying cigarette to his lips. "Obviously, dropped out a couple years before that to work at the greenhouse. It's basically the family crypt,"
The breeze picked up again, this time blowing hair into Sam's eyes. He looked peaceful, lips upturned in the slightest of smiles, watching the horizon of the sleeping town.
"Why haven't you left this place already?" I whispered. It didn't feel right to disturb his bubble of serenity.
Sam tuned to look at me, eyes shining from the low afternoon sun. "I will once all of this is over,"
Diner was quiet as always, a blur of squeaking utensils and clinking glasses, and I watched as Brigitte stared at Ginger, who was hiding under her hood. Mom asked about school and we gave her a dumb excuse about a field trip.
"Mr. Wayne called today. Apparently the police wants to talk to you about a fight you had with the missing girl?" Mom gave Ginger a sharp look, waiting for an explanation. Annoyed, Ginger got up and stomped away with Brigitte attempting to followed her but getting pulled to the side by mom.
"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on," Mom demanded. "Right now!"
I gaped at dad but he didn't meet my eye, seemingly too interested in the way his drink bubbled. Getting up from the table, I followed mom into the kitchen, scared that Brigitte might tell her everything, tell her too much.
"Mom-" I started but quickly shut up when mom pointed a tense her finger at my face. Her expression was twisted, comically so.
"And you!" said Mom sternly. "I saw that van leaving our driveway yesterday. Don't think I don't know who it belongs to!"
"What?" I sputtered, looking between her and Brigitte, who kept her head low. I hadn't even though I'd need an excuse for this. Nothing was coming to mind either, so I let my mouth silently open and close, feeling dumb.
Something caught my eye in the space between mom and Brigitte, a hazy pile of purple. Dried flowers with purple petals and thin stalks, just like in the book Sam had shown us.
"What are these?" I ran over, grabbing them, sharing a disbelieving look with Brigitte. She rolled some of the fallen petals in her hand.
Mom rolled her eyes, displeased I changed the subject. "Monkshood. Now-"
"Where did you get them?" I totally ignored her. Who would've thought a suburban mom would buy the exact flowers needed to cure a terrible curse.
Brigitte's eyes were wide. She took some more of the flowers and so did I, not waiting for mom to answer, running to our room with Brigitte on my heels.
"Ginger, look-" I barged into the bathroom but quickly stopped at the sight of Ginger, who was cutting her tail, the knife in her hand reflecting the dull light. Blood was dripping from the toilet seat and her hands. It was a mess.
"What the fuck are you doing!" I screamed, pealing the knife away, throwing it to the side.
Brigitte dropped on her knees, holding Ginger down. "Stop it!" She yelled. The flowers were now forgotten, dropped somewhere at our feet.
Ginger collapsed, sinking to the floor. Her face was shiny with fresh tears. "I'm just taking it off,"
"No, Ginger, no..." I glanced at the bloody knife, a puddle forming under it. My hands were trembling, stained.
"I killed their pets and I-I don't know what else to do," Ginger slumped into Brigitte's open arms, holding on tightly. "I can't be like this..." She whispered.
I pushed some hair away from her face. "Once we figure out how to use Monkshood," I held up the plant for her to see. "You'll be okay. I promise..."
Leaning against the wall, I took a deep breath, silently watching the two sisters comfort each other, a mess of arms and tears as they hugged. The bathroom light seemed jarring so I closed my eyes, listening to the buzzing in my head and my heart.
"We can't let her go out..." Brigitte whispered. Ginger was silently but restlessly sleeping, having calmed down. The blanket was rising with every breath she took, occasionally whimpering.
I was sitting on Brigitte's bed and both of us watched Ginger cautiously but sadly. The flowers were laying in front of us, the dried petals falling onto the sheets.
"We can lock her in the bathroom while we go to Sam and get the cure," Brigitte nodded, slowly, to my idea but kept her gaze on Ginger. She has not taken her eyes off her sister the whole night and I could see how worried she was - brows drawn together, watery eyes, shaky hands searching for the corner of the blanket.
Taking her hand in mine, I squeezed it. She looked at them blankly, her skin against mine.
"She'll be fine, once we cure her, everything will be okay," I said, giving her a smile. She returned it with a weaker one, squeezing back.
In a way, I was also trying to convince myself too, thinking about any possible income.
Chapter viii
