《Nightly Woes》


 My dad died in a car accident three months ago.

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    My dad died in a car accident three months ago.


    We do miss him a lot, especially mom. She was with him driving the car when the accident happened, but she survived. At his funeral, I was lost looking through his memorial photos until my girlfriend nudged me to go see mom. I found her lying next to his body, gently caressing his face and fixing his hat.


    She asked me to take a photo of them when she saw me, and I did.


    We ended the funeral shortly after that.


    Grief has no timeline, and everyone copes with it differently, I understand that. But mom slept for three days straight afterward, refusing anything for food or drink.


    So before I drove back to college, I asked mom''s neighbor, aunt Sarah, to check on her and keep her company. I was glad to see the understanding on her face.


    For weeks I checked on mom every day. And checked on her with aunt Sarah, too. But aunt Sarah only kept reporting countless worsening conditions at home and that she couldn''t be of help any longer.


    I get it.


    But when mom stopped answering my calls, I knew something had to change.


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    I shared my worries with my girlfriend, and she offered to clean mom''s house while I took mom on a getaway. I immediately booked us a weekend stay at a hotel by the beach.


    And today I drove my girlfriend to mom''s house with a kiss on her forehead and the deepest gratitude in my heart.


    Then picked up mom with the hope this trip will bring her some peace of mind.


    Mom isn¡¯t the type to be this quiet on car rides, but she seems content with the bag in her lap.


    I get it.


    Now I am driving us to the hotel. One of her favorite songs playing on the radio. She is happily humming it while rummaging through her bag next to me and fiddling with dad¡¯s hat. I turn the overhead light on for her.


    ¡°You look just like your dad,¡± she tells me, right before we reach the hotel. ¡°This hat will fit you well as well.¡±


    Then my eyes trail to her bag. Dad had a knack for wearing good clothes, and this hat would suit me just fine.


    Mom lifts the hat again. And I see it on top of something dry and appalling to behold.


    ¡°Your dad said we¡¯d stay together till death do us part,¡± she says, lifts the head, and looks into its blacked eyes. ¡°But we¡¯re not both dead yet, are we, my love?.¡±


    She then looks back at me, and I start to feel dizzy. Her face curls into a teary smile as she puts dad¡¯s severed head closer to her face.


    ¡°Be so dear and take a photo of us.¡±


    Then I hear some commotion. I look in front of me. A flash of light blinds me before everything goes quiet.

 One Thing To Do

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    My girlfriend, Alex, went shopping for our engagement party.


    On her way back to the parking lot, she was accosted by a harasser. And by the time I arrived, she had already fended off the perpetrator. I tried to talk to her about it, but she was too angry and upset to listen.


    I trailed behind her to make sure she was okay.


    As we stepped off the curb toward the parking lot, a car hurtled toward us at breakneck speed. I was hit while Alex narrowly escaped. I couldn''t feel anything; only time seemed to slow down as my life flashed before my eyes.


    In the chaos, I called for Alex, but she was eerily quiet, preoccupied with calls and emails, and sometimes fiddling with my knife. It was at my funeral, which Alex had organized two days later, that I realized that I had died.


    A handful of people attended my funeral. I had no family or relatives to mourn my passing, only Alex''s friends and coworkers.


    I hoped Alex wouldn''t forget me, at least not this soon. So after the funeral, I stayed with her.


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    It was impossible for Alex to fulfill my wish in this economy. Instead, she chose to cremate my remains and scatter them in the river where I had asked her to become my girlfriend. Together we watched my ashes drift downstream before she wept and apologized for not being able to bury me.


    Some nights, our cat Duul would become restless, seeking comfort from cuddling with Alex and purring loudly into the night.


    He must have sensed something, for Alex''s grief manifested in the form of nightmares; she would repeat phrases like "Let''s go" and "It''s dangerous" in her sleep, undeterred by Duul''s cries.


    I looked at my pale, blue hands and yearned to offer Alex some solace. I longed to share more happy times with her again.


    But a ghost could only do so much.


    Today, on what would have been our engagement day, Alex lights a candle in my memory and cuts my favorite fruit with my knife. Then she skims through our old texts and pictures, crying as she reminisces about our past.


    Floating in the ether, I know it''s time for me to move on. Alex remembers me, and that is enough for me.


    But I can''t shake off the feeling that there''s one thing I must do.


    Suddenly, the door bursts open, and the harasser appears with a knife in his hand. A disturbing grin manifests on his face as his eyes trail from Duul to Alex.


    I look down when I feel the warmth of my knife against my skin.


    And beside me sits Duul, gazing up at me and meowing.


    If there is something I will do for Alex before I go to the great beyond, it''s this: as she kept me alive in death, I will keep her safe in life.

 Safety Protocols

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    I take a bite of my lamb chop, savoring the juicy meat, before wiping my hands. My stomach churns as I notice the oxygen levels dropping on the monitors. I quickly alert Noor, my colleague, and she closes the door as I seal the lid on my food. We both buckle our seat belts and put on our oxygen masks, following safety protocols.


    The oxygen levels in the room gradually start to improve, but the red alarms on the walls continue to blare loudly. Noor and I exchange anxious glances, waiting for updates.


    Suddenly, the speakers crackle to life, announcing the captain''s return from a trip to another spaceship. I feel relieved as I catch my breath, but now the alarms are glaring silently.


    Then the captain''s voice comes through the intercom.


    He shares news about replenishing the icy water supplies and securing more oxygen masks and food for us to eat. He also mentions the damage done to the cargo bay, where Noor and I are stationed, by a small group of meteoroids. Yet, the captain''s determination to save the stranded crew members echoes through the static-filled intercom. He emphasizes that the crew is his priority, no matter the risks.


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    As the announcement comes to an end, the captain addresses Noor and me directly, reassuring us that we¡¯ll never be abandoned and instructing us to await help to get to bay''s control room.


    When the intercom cuts off, the red alarms turn green.


    "We''re detaching it," I say, my voice shaky, as I take off my mask. "I think we''re jettisoning the bay of the ship."


    Noor springs to her feet, checking the monitors again. She notices that the oxygen levels in the room are stable and observes Dispatchers coming to our location. As they make their way toward us, she notices them assisting other crew members out of the bay.


    I quickly tell her to check the door and be mindful of the oxygen levels outside. She secures the door and goes back to her seat. Then, the door creaks open.


    A Dispatcher clad in a hazmat suit walks into the room. I feel a surge of relief and express my heartfelt gratitude to him.


    Then another Dispatcher pauses at the door, and suddenly I hear a loud thud beside me. I look around to see Noor lying face down in front of her chair.


    As I try to stand, my legs give out, and I stumble, losing my balance. I collapse to the floor, and my gas mask thumps beside me. My vision becomes foggy, and the room spins around me. I reach out to Noor, struggling to catch my breath, as a puff of fume emanates from the gas mask against my face.


    I fight against drowsiness, straining to look up and squinting through the blur. I see the first Dispatcher standing over me, giggling.


    "Tell the captain," he says, "we''ve got ourselves two more lambs to eat."

 Afraid of Bob

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    A week ago, my mom went on vacation with my stepdad, Bob, leaving me home alone. They returned while I was asleep, having waited for them in the living room for two days.


    I awoke to mom carrying me to my bedroom, her soft humming drowning out Bob''s constant shouting. When I asked her to stay with me, she kissed me, promising to do so.


    Over the next few days, we played together, and in the evenings, I listened to her bedtime stories until I fell asleep in her warm embrace.


    Bob, however, never set foot in my room, and whenever mom did, he''d scold her for it, always bringing her to tears.


    Today, I awoke to the mess that is my bed. Mom would usually make it for me first thing after she''d kiss me good morning, but she''s not here now. Instead, her voice is coming from outside the ajar door.


    I get up and make my way into the hallway. The sound of her cries grows louder as I reach the stairs. I find her sitting in the living room, with Bob standing over her, holding gloves and masks, and breathing down her neck.


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    "We''ve already cleaned the house," he says, "so let''s get this over with."


    "One more day," says mom, her voice trembling with sobs. "Please... my sweet Jane."


    Bob gazes down at her for a long moment.


    "No, not if you want me around anymore," he says. "So, choose. Now."


    Soon after, mom takes a deep, shaky breath and starts humming. I find myself in the middle of the staircase when she turns toward me afterward, red and teary-eyed.


    And when I see Bob put on his mask, I quickly retreat to my room, with mom''s weeping growing louder behind me.


    I head to my bed to tidy it up a bit when Bob enters my room. I reach it before him and lie on it first, with him struggling to control his breathing under his mask. He then kneels before me and extends a gloved hand. I try to pull away, but he clasps it firmly.


    "Jane," he says, "know that we¡¯ve always loved you, no matter what.¡±


    He grasps the back of my neck.


    "But your mom now spends all her time with you," he adds. "She can''t do that anymore."


    Right behind him, mom appears, masked and gloved, and humming once again. Bob slides his arm beneath my knees, and I feel his warmth for the first time in days once he cradles me in his arms, his chest quivering, as he turns toward mom and utters, "Do it."


    Mom takes off her mask and places a gentle kiss on my forehead.


    "I''m so sorry for leaving you alone, Jane," she says, tears streaming down her face. "But I can''t keep my promise anymore. I can''t keep your corpse here with me."


    As I look up at them, my mind starts to slip, and I close my eyes.

 Ultimatum

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    I was en route to the gas station to replace my family''s key fob batteries when I spotted a car that had rolled off the cliff above, its nose dipped into the roadside.


    A girl stumbled toward me, her face streaked with blood.


    "Please," she sobbed. "My dad. My phone isn''t working."


    I rushed to the wreckage and found her dad trapped in the driver''s seat. I called emergency services, but without success. As a nurse, I knew every second could be critical. I quickly assessed the situation and determined it was safe to move him. So I carefully laid him in the backseat of my car while the girl sat in front, fainting as I started driving.


    Farther down the road, another wrecked car came into view. A man waved at me frantically, calling for help. I hesitated¡ªthe people in my car needed immediate care¡ªso I pressed on to the hospital.


    At the ER, EMTs moved the injured onto stretchers. The girl, now conscious, gripped my hand. "Thank you," she whispered before being wheeled away. I stayed to answer a few questions from officers, then left.


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    On my way home, I saw the man from the second accident. As I passed by, he looked at me and mouthed words I could barely make out. "He''s dead."


    The image of his desperate face and cries for help echoed in my head all the way home.


    I collapsed into Mom and my brother Dean''s arms after they sensed my distress.


    Mom caressed my face. "You saved two people," she said. "You did all you could."


    Dean patted my back. "It''s not on you," he added. "You''ll save more."


    I appreciated their comfort, but also needed some time alone. So I went for a drive around town. The man''s face seemed to haunt me everywhere I went.


    Later, a message from Mom jolted me.


    ''Accident site,'' it read. ''NOW.''


    The whole way was a blur until I reached the location. Mom''s car and Dean''s car sat parked along the cliff side. My phone dinged again, this time from an unknown number.


    ''Him?'' A picture showed Dean locked and asleep in his driver''s seat. Before I could react, my phone beeped once more.


    ''Or her?'' In this picture Mom appeared, also locked and asleep in her car. ''Since you''re so good at playing God with people''s lives.''


    I opened the glove box to find the key fob with old batteries. Then a movement caught my eye. I looked up to see the cars slowly rolling toward the cliff.


    A chill ran through my chest as I realized there would be time to break the window of only one car and stop it from plummeting off the edge.


    ''CHOOSE.''


    I''d do anything for Mom. But Dean could help me stop her car. Maybe then there would be enough time.


    ''NOW.''


    I pushed the door open and ran to the car.

 Trepidation

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    She reached into the drawer for her coin and revolver.


    That¡¯s when I knew someone¡¯s time had come, alongside mine. She picked me up afterward, kissed me, and whispered, ¡°Someone¡¯s unlucky today,¡± with a disturbing grin that stretched from ear to ear.


    During the ride, I hoped we were headed to the shooting range or a hunting trip, where I might end up like the lucky ones. Instead, we drove to a stranger¡¯s house.


    She spent most of the day with him¡ªcooking, watching TV, even making love¡ªreveling in it, keeping me close all the while. The peacefulness almost made me believe she might have changed her mind.


    What a fool I was.


    As night fell, I found myself staring into the terrified eyes of the stranger, now kneeling and begging for his life. I dreaded the moment the gun would fire.


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    ¡°Please,¡± sobbed the stranger. ¡°Why are you doing this?¡±


    ¡°No reason,¡± she said coldly, pulling a coin from her pocket. ¡°Just want to see if luck¡¯s on your side today.¡±


    The coin flipped, spinning in the air before dropping to the floor. His fate was sealed in seconds.


    ¡°Oh, babe,¡± she said with that cruel smile, pulling the trigger. ¡°Your luck is fuck all.¡±


    A jerk shifted me aside, but there was only a click. The man collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down his face.


    "Wrong chamber," she muttered, glaring at me as if it were my fault. She pointed the gun downward, then gave the stranger a long, hard look. I stared at the floor, clinging to the last sliver of hope that it was over.


    But when she blew him a kiss, I knew better than to hope anymore. She cocked the revolver, and I moved into place as she aimed it at his head. He looked at me with pleading eyes.


    I had no choice but to do the one thing when she pulled the trigger again.


    The world exploded hot and red as the man''s brain splattered against the floor. Now, I lie beside the coin on the ground, an empty shell stained with innocent blood.