The Family

“Hello, Crystal. How was your day today?”

The creature lingers in her peripherals. Crystal ignores it, ignores its question, and moves to the kitchen to start on dishes. Her shoes squeak as she comes to a halt—the dishes are done already. The kitchen is immaculate now that Crystal notices; the counter is wiped down and the sink’s stainless steel is shining. The knives are laid out to dry by the knife block; one in particular doesn’t match the others, it’s an extra. 

I threw it in the trash, didn’t I? Crystal thinks.

Crystal knows the creature is behind her—she can feel its mechanical eyes on the back of her skull. Her headache intensifies.

“Would you like some company, Crystal?”

“No.” Crystal hopes the creature hears the message in her tone. She reaches down to take her shoes off. No sound is heard but Crystal knows the creature approaches closer; the hair on her neck stands on end.

“Don’t touch me,” Crystal snaps. The stifling air surrounding her diminishes, helping her breathe again. Shoes in hand, Crystal heads to the bedroom. The clock reads 4:23pm. David and Emma should be coming back from the family therapist’s office. It’s a good time to shower and clear her mind.

“Would you like something to drink, Crystal? You look exhausted.”

Crystal startles on the top of the stairs. The creature stands in the doorway, lifeless eyes unblinking. It waits for her response.

Crystal’s lips wobble. “Don’t do this. Please, go away. I’m having a good day.”

The creature doesn’t react. 

Crystal shudders and drops her shoes by the door. She goes to the bathroom, stripping herself of her clothes, cranking the shower knob to a scalding hot. 

Steam soon clouds the mirror. Crystal stands rigid as she stares at her reflection. She sees her silhouette, blurry from the steam. Another silhouette stands near her, a wisp of a shadow.

“Not too hot, Crystal. Your scars will reopen.” 

Liar.

Crystal swipes at the mirror, condensation smearing her image. The shadow is gone now; Crystal’s sigh of relief fogs the mirror again. Her shower is quick, the heat saturates and prunes her skin. She welcomes the sharp stinging that reverberates up her arms from her hands. It helps her feel alive, helps ground her.

A quick scan from behind the shower curtain allows her to step out once she knows the coast is clear. Crystal opens the cabinet for her moisturizer, bypassing the orange containers on the top shelf as she closes it shut. 

The creature stands tall behind her, face floating above the crown of her head. The small bottle slips from Crystal’s hand; the crack of the bottle isn’t registered. Crystal can’t look away from the mirror. Her vision seems to distort. She’s no longer sure whose eyes she’s looking into. 

The creature’s face is sunken, cheekbones prominent against its ashy skin. 

“I miss you, Crystal.”

Crystal can’t breathe. Something is lodged in her throat. A needle pricks behind her eyes.

“I hunger.” The creature opens its mouth, the never-ending hollow of its throat widening, jaw unhinging past Crystal’s head as it lowers and lowers. Crystal still can’t move; the creature keeps her paralyzed. 

Not again, not again.

“I must consume . . . I desire sustenance. My stomach withers. My lungs are dust. My skin peels.” 

Crystal feels her ribs creak as the sound of the creature’s mouth inhales the air. The bathroom slowly loses its warmth, the air turns frigid. Crystal is crying, her tears drenching her neck.

The creature laments. “Save me, Crystal . . . Do not let me perish.” 

Crystal closes her eyes. She doesn’t understand. She wants it to go away; this has been going on too long. It doesn’t belong to her, it isn’t her problem. Her eyes flash open, meeting her reflection.

“You can starve.” 

She is alone again.

~~~

Dinner is quiet again tonight. 

Crystal chews and looks at David. His tie is askew, glasses highlighting the dark circles under his eyes.

She looks to the other side where Emma eats, posture ramrod straight in her chair, small hands cutting her steak expertly.

“So Emma,” Crystal starts, “how did your session go with Dr. Garner?”

Emma’s knife moves diagonally across her meat. “It was fine.”

She never elaborates.

Crystal looks at David again but he’s busy sipping water. Crystal tries again.

“What did you two end up discussing?” 

Emma rearranges the cuts of steak to a neat pile. “My problem.”

Crystal fidgets with her fork as she forces herself to take a bite of food. “I see. Did… he mention some tactics to help control your.. problem?”

Emma licks her knife. “He did.” 

Hope flickers briefly. “Wonderful. What did he suggest?”

Emma meets her eyes. She takes a bite of meat. “Can’t remember.” 

Crystal’s mouth wobbles as she quickly disguises it with a drink of her water. David’s hand twitches nearby. 

~~~

David feels warm as he joins Crystal on the bed. She reaches for his hand, he squeezes back.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispers quietly. He kisses her shoulder. “Marshall is still keeping her on the medication. If things get worse we can always up the dosage.”

Crystal feels her eyes prickle again. “The meds aren’t doing anything, David.” She sniffles. “I think… she’s drawing again. Using the notebook.”

David stays silent a moment too long. When he speaks, he’s hoarse. “Are you contemplating… it again?” 

Crystal lets out a silent sob and buries her face into David’s chest. His arms anchor around her. His heart is hammering under his nightshirt. As Crystal weeps, David shudders out a long breath.

“Emma promised. She promised,” Crystal rasps.

Above her, David swallows. “We’ve discussed this, Crystal. She isn’t creating this—whatever you’re seeing. She isn’t doing it. She’s a child for God's sake, this isn’t normal for her.” He sighs again. “If you need me to, I’ll confiscate her notebook. She knows the consequences, Crys. We’ll give it to Dr. Garner, maybe he can talk some sense into her—”

“No,” Crystal interrupts. Lifting her head, she gives her husband a stony look. “We have to cut out the real problem. We need to lock her up.”

David pales. “What? Crystal, do you hear yourself? You want to lock up our own daughter?” 

“No daughter would do this to her parents!” Crystal stands up from the bed and paces the room, hands shaking wildly. “No daughter would ever attack her mother with the same knife she used to self-harm! No daughter would ever hang her dolls in nooses around the house for her mother to find!”

Crystal digs her hands into her scalp, pulling her hair. “She knows, David! She knows everything! How? How does she know about it?!” A sob bubbles up from her throat and bursts from her mouth. “She’s torturing me! She wants me to give in!” Crystal crumbles to the ground, knees hitting the carpet. 

David rushes to meet her on the ground. “Crys, Crys, look at me, honey. She doesn’t know. She’s sick, she’s just sick. You can’t let it get to you.”

Crystal’s knuckles are white from her grip on David. “What if she stole Dr. Garner’s notes? What if he went to the bathroom one day and she. . .”

“She’s nine, Crys. She isn’t capable of that.” He gathers her closer. “She’s not well. You just have to remember that. We’re getting her help.” 

Crystal heaves a trembling breath. “I… I can’t do it anymore, David. It’s killing me. She’s ruining us, she’s ruining me. I… I’m getting worse.”

David’s chin rests on her head. “I know, honey. But we’re a family. We can’t give up on her, just like I didn’t give up on you.” He smooths her hair back from her wet face. “Maybe you should pop into Marshall’s office this week, just to get some advice. It’s been a while since he’s seen you. A checkup might be good.”

Crystal keeps her disoriented gaze fixed on the carpet, not quite seeing it. This isn’t something Marshall could fix; it seemed bigger, much bigger than herself. 

But she would try—for David, for Emma, for her own sanity.

This is accountability. This is family.

~~~

Emma keeps her eyes open. Her eyes are dry, itching to close, to replenish themselves with the wet haven behind her lids. She keeps her eyes open.

Dr. Garner’s office swims to the forefront of her mind. He sits at his desk, hands folded, pens in a neat row, eyes already connected to hers.

His chin tilts. “How is your mother?”

“She sees.” 

A pen is picked up. Words are scrawled on a paper. “Is she repentant?”

“She’s still alive.”

Dr. Garner smiles. “I’ll take that as a no then.” More words are written. 

The doctor looks at Emma again. “Where would you like to explore this time?”

Emma knows her answer. “David.” 

Dr. Garner hums, narrows his eyes, taps his pen. “Your father’s very pristine. Hardly a scratch on the surface.” His smile is kind. “What about Miss Lindley? She made first grade very hard for you. She has a full plate—eating disorder as a teenager, divorced parents, a temporary fentanyl addiction—”

“I want David.” Emma stays stoic. The doctor would listen.

Dr. Garner leans forward from his chair. “Very well, my dear.” He taps the pen on his chin, eyes looking off. “He grew up in the middle economic class. Catholic. Parents had a healthy marriage.” He draws his eyes to the edge of the pen. “I’m not positive he will be a good vessel.” 

Emma keeps her gaze. “You’re keeping secrets.”

The doctor’s mouth quirks up playfully. “Can’t help it, dear. It’s in my contract.”

Emma doesn’t laugh. She stays still, quiet, like she was trained to be.

The doctor runs a finger down the pen. “There is something useful.”

“Like what?”

Their eyes meet. “He’s mentioned something about his marriage. With Crystal’s past coming back to haunt her, he’s getting… tired. Claims he didn’t sign up for this, that he deserves, quote-unquote, ‘better.’” 

Emma soaks in the new information like a sponge. 

The doctor can feel her excitement begin to grow. “A bit selfish of him, don’t you think?”

Emma’s fingers feel warm and tingly. She itches to draw, to sketch, to bring the fire inside her to life. 

“Shall we wrap up our session a little early? I can tell you’re inspired.”

Emma nods fervently. She’s already standing and making her way out of the office. She doesn’t say goodbye, she never does.

Dr. Garner’s last words ripple through her mind. “Don’t get carried away again, little one.”

A knock on the door to Emma’s room wakes her out of her trance. She finally blinks. 

David enters, glasses down his nose, too unbothered to adjust them. Emma watches him smile tiredly at her, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Hey kiddo. You feeling okay?”

Emma blinks again. “I’m okay.” She keeps her gaze. “I want Mommy.” 

David sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Your mother isn’t feeling well, kiddo. She’s… got a headache.”

The usual. “I want to see her.” 

“Sorry, Em.” David rubs her arm. “I’ll give you two kisses to make up for her.” As he kisses her forehead twice, Emma stays still. 

“You always make up for her.” 

She feels David tense lightly, but it’s gone in the next second. “Mommy just needs a lot of rest. She’ll be okay in the morning.” He pulls the covers up to Emma’s chin. “Sweet dreams, kiddo. Love you.” 

He gets up to leave her room, her bed creaking from his lack of weight.

“Daddy?”

David pauses in the doorway. 

“Would it make you happy if Mommy got a lot of rest?”

“Of course, Em. I want her to rest.” 

“What if she rested forever and never woke up?”

The shadow from the doorway ghosts across David’s face, but Emma doesn’t need to see it. She can picture the horror in his expression, the gape of his mouth, the paleness of his features.

“What did you say?”

Emma smiles. “Nothing, Daddy. Good night.” 

David doesn’t move for a moment. When he does exit her room, there’s a slight stagger in his gait. The door closes stiffly, the light from the hallway turning off.

Emma doesn’t need light, never needed it. She knows where to reach her fingers for her notebook and pen. She knows the familiar scratch of the therapy office’s name on the utensil. She knows what to draw on the empty page, what shape the creature will be, how many teeth it will have, how sharp its claws will be, how sultry its voice will sound. 

Scratches from her pen and her quick breaths are the only sounds in the room. Come morning, David will know, he will see, just like Crystal. 

This is accountability. This is family. 

From across town, inside the office, Dr. Garner smiles. 

~