Call Your Father

The wall stared without question or expectation.

There were scars hidden beneath its caked layers of paint, every one a silenced story consumed by the beige expanse. It stood despite them. Too empty to ponder the whys, too mute to claim identity, and too rooted in place to succeed with any other obligation than to simply be.

Eryn envied its sober existence.

Her only grace in the world was keeping it company. Life was a ravenous, hateful creature. Without the wall she was prey to its rampant ideas hurling her feelings from small joys to monstrous tragedies as though she were a rag doll.

She laid in the silence where it had left her, thankful that the wall never demanded she explain herself. She wasn’t able to find the words anyway.

It didn’t judge her for that. It wasn’t inconvenienced by her weakness. In fact it didn’t mind her presence at all.

No place was safer than the wall.

Eryn fed every ounce she had into it, falling like Alice down the rabbit hole until she was so deep that beige was the only color she knew.

Would it ever end?

She hoped she might never find the bottom and that this small shred of acceptance would hold her forever.

That was when the black creature skittered into view.

It was as large as a party balloon, with eight serrated blades for legs and thousands of swiveling eyes. Eryn’s blood turned to ice as the glossy orbs rolled in every direction. Searching, no doubt, for her.

Sucking in her shriek, she retreated as far away from the creature as she could when the world suddenly collapsed beneath her. Her body was turning, stomach dropping, she collided with the floor. A whimper punched from her lungs as a dull, thumping pain bloomed through her skull.

Eryn quickly righted herself onto her hands and knees. Her vision swayed, the overstimulating abundance of color a swirling and blurred Monet.

Rapid blinking brought a bed into focus. An avalanche of daisy printed linens and a chunky knitted throw was sliding off the edge of the mattress. Only one pillow was rumpled up against the headboard. In the back of her mind she was certain there were more because this was her bed. Her room.

Though it made for a poor weapon, Eryn snatched it to her chest and hugged it tight. When she was a kid, her dad was never more proud than when her bat sent softballs into orbit. The creature didn’t stand a chance.

She readied her pillow and peeked over the edge of the bed.

It was gone.

“Oh hell,” Eryn clambered onto her bed, quick as a cat and just as scared. On her feet she had a proper lay of the land and all its disaster.

The windows were closed up tight, leaving the air stale and dank, the room dark. She could have sworn she left them open.

Spring had finally arrived and the beautiful day was the perfect fuel for her inspiration. She loved nothing more than the sound of the wind applauding in the trees, the birds singing to the open blue sky and bees buzzing around fragrant flowers. Her birthday was coming, and since the day itself usually brought rain she liked to start a new chapter fresh while the sun was still out.

But her room didn’t look like anything she recognized. She’d never been so messy. It seemed like the entire closet was laid out or piled high with the sole intent of ensuring none of the floor could be seen at all. Eryn spotted her boyfriend’s Spider-Man shirt crumpled up in the fray. It was stained with mascara and tears, but that didn’t make sense. She just washed it that morning.

Her pen holder was knocked over on the desk too, half its contents splayed across it like fallen soldiers amidst a battlefield of balled up post-it notes. Eryn’s brows pulled together at the sight. Those post-its had been stuck to the wall. Why were they crumbled up like trash?

Her eyes scanned the room again and still no creature. All that remained of it were thick cobwebs stretching from corner to corner, covering just about everything in sight like a haunted mansion.

There was noise in Eryn’s head. She noticed that under her arms stank and as embarrassment made them lower, they also felt heavy and tired. Her eyes began to burn.

This morning those cobwebs were thin and fragile things, nearly invisible. She had the duster in hand, thinking about what she’d write for the contest and then…

She glanced at the wall.

The wall stared back without question or expectation. There were scars hidden beneath its caked layers of paint.

Something buzzed.

Eryn blinked.

All the beige had receded and was replaced with shadows. The only light in her room came from her phone lying on the nightstand nearby.

Something buzzed again. And again. And again. Someone was calling.

She reached out and webs pulled from her body to her arm. Startled, she jolted right up, covered in them. The creature was crawling up her leg.

Eryn screamed. With kicking feet and flailing hands she tried to free herself from the webs but they were wound tight around her. She could feel the creature’s claws poking through the webbing. Her body convulsed with disgust and horror. She thrashed in a panic, sobbing when finally her hands caught its hairy body and flung it across the room.

There was a thud against the wall, a silence following that choked all the air from Eryn’s lungs. She clawed through the layers of silk to get to her lamp and flipped on the switch.

There the creature laid on her desk, much larger than a balloon. It must have been as big as a lion. Eryn shrieked.

Help. She needed help. There was no way she could fight that thing by herself.

She snatched her phone from the table and when next she looked up the creature was gone.

Where could she go that was far enough away? The webs were so thick she couldn’t leave through her bedroom door or hide in the bathroom. She felt the headboard against her back and stared into the silvery cocoon that engulfed her room.

There was nothing left of it now. Only the bed. The walls. She had nothing to fight back with.

Her entire body trembled as she looked at her phone and thought about who she should call. Notifications cluttered the screen. There were a handful of calls from her mom, a text from her boyfriend, news breaks and reminders to get up and stretch. The hour was late, but it was the date that struck Eryn like a bullet to the chest.

Days had gone by since that morning in April.

Months.

Three years.

How could that be possible? She remembered none of it. Three years couldn’t just move on without you in the blink of an eye!

Eryn swallowed around the lump in her throat, sniffling but her nose was so stuffed it didn’t make a difference. Her entire face felt like it was about to implode from the pressure. With her arm she wiped her tears. It was the best she could do, but no matter how much she tried they spilled over as quickly as she dried them.

Her mom had left a voicemail last week.

“Eryn baby, it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. I’ll be in town this weekend. Would it kill you to leave the house and have lunch with your mother? Call me back, please.”

She texted following up with where they should go to eat, what time she should pick her up. Eryn had answered with short responses but stopped on Saturday. Her mom’s messages were left on read.

Where are you?

I’m sorry for bringing up your dad. I thought you were doing better?

Eryn you need to answer your phone.

You can’t just stop talking to me. I’m your mother.

I love you baby but if you keep this up one day you’ll find out I died too and our last conversation was a fight.

Why do you make it so difficult to talk to you?

Please get help, Eryn. I don’t know what else to do for you.

The phone clicked off under the press of her thumb. She laid it face down on her lap and lifted her eyes to the wall.

The wall stared back without question or expectation. There were scars hidden beneath its caked layers of paint, every one a silenced story consumed by the beige expanse.

No one wanted to hear what was wrong. Every time that she opened her mouth they looked at the wall and stopped listening. When her dad died everyone wanted to be the person she talked to. Then there was one day she guessed was a day too many. They thought that she should be past the grieving part and only wanted to hear about how she was moving forward.

How could she move forward when there was a wall in her way, rooted in place with no other obligation than to simply be?

Eryn envied its sober existence.

It was so easy to stop moving, to stop thinking, to stop feeling and just be nothing at all.

There was comfort in staying perfectly still while life ate away at whatever time she had left. She had nothing better to offer.

Something was buzzing.

Eryn ignored it to watch the creature crawl across the wall.

The buzzing only continued.

She found herself listening to it.

Buzzing.

And buzzing.

There was only one person she wanted a call from, but she couldn’t talk to him anymore.

The phone kept buzzing anyway. It wouldn’t stop. Finally, Eryn answered it.

“Hey, I’m sorry it’s so late. Did I wake you?”

It was her boyfriend.

“No.”

“I had a dream about you so I thought I’d check in. Did you eat? I texted earlier but you didn’t answer.”

Eryn didn’t have a clue when the last time she ate was. “Tell me about your dream.”

He was quiet for a moment, and then with a soft chuckle he said, “someone was waiting for you to call.”

She stared at the wall, “my dad?”

“How’d you know?”

“Because every time he left a voicemail he said–”

Call your father.

Her boyfriend laughed, and despite how terrible she felt Eryn found herself smiling at their imitation of his voice. It disappeared as soon as it was formed. She felt hollow.

“I can’t call him though.”

“You could pray?”

“He was always trying to get me to pray.”

“I know,” it sounded like he was still smiling. “I’m pretty sure God wouldn’t mind sharing the line. Eryn?”

It was like a dam had broken inside her. Eryn sobbed so hard that she was afraid her chest would split right open. She hugged her knees tight as though it could keep her together, choking on all the words she could never find, every feeling she tried to pour into the wall and forget, her anger, and loneliness, her regret.

Her dad wouldn’t want to hear from her. She told him she didn’t have time for him while he was getting chemo. She never had time for anyone because being alive always felt apocalyptic. Somehow she was never enough. She did nothing right. She was a terrible friend. A distant girlfriend. She wasn’t worth the waste of anyone’s time. She had nothing to offer.

“What would you tell him?”

“That I’m sorry!” She wailed.

Eryn didn’t know how long her boyfriend allowed her to cry. It must have been long enough, she supposed, for the creature to grow twice in size. It loomed over the end of her bed, every eye a lens devouring her agony. The weight of its scrutiny was too much to bear. She bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to become as small and insignificant as she felt.

“He forgives you.”

“No he doesn’t! He can’t!”

“Of course he can. He always does.”

Suddenly the whole world went still. The pressure building inside her soothed like a raging storm reduced to a drizzle as clouds parted the sky for the sun to shine through. Eyrn could hear her own breath hitching in her lungs and boyfriend’s guidance a gentle whisper like a breeze. He was counting.

In… 2 ….3 … 4.

Out… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6.

She followed along with the rhythm, working through the tightness in her throat and chest. In time it began to steady and all that remained were the last of her tears rolling down her cheeks.

Eryn opened her eyes and stared at the wall.

The wall stared back.

It was just a wall with a small jumping spider crawling across the beige expanse.

“You okay?”

“I need help.”

“What can I do?”

“There’s a spider in my room.”

He laughed, “I’ll be right there.”