Friggatriskaidekaphobia

“And be careful, it’s Friday the thirteenth.” I looked into my mirror and nodded. “You got this, Emily. Come on, you’ve faced much worse.” And I hated the fact that it was true. Last thirteenth, Aria died. And before that, Kelsey. And…. “You’re strong. Mom was always the strong one, but she’s gone now, so it’s all up to you to stay strong. Right, Courtney?” I stared at the rotting corpse of one of my sisters, still lying in that pool of black in the bathtub. I hadn’t had the courage to move her. “Right.” I answered for myself.

I shouldered my backpack and walked down the steps. Each creak sent an image of their bones crackling in the fire; the murderer’s weak attempt at hiding the bodies. The steps creaked again. On the third to last step, I leaped to the bottom, because Dad didn’t like when I stepped on that board. It would hit his head from where he lay under the stairs. The plank right before the door seemed to always shift out of place on this day, so I moved it in its rightful position; Mom doesn’t like the sunlight that leaks in through the front door. “Bye Mom, I’m off to school now.”

I walked out the door and made sure to spit on the bushes, because sometimes Kelsey would pat the wet spot on the soil. I could see strands of Aria’s hair still hanging over the branches of the dying tree in our yard. I reached up to tuck the hair back into her empty eye sockets. The black veins running across her face no longer bothered me, and I re-applied her makeup. She always did care about how she looked.

I looked down the street to wave to Clark. I smoothed down my hair and wrinkled my nose when I found more blood in it. Not again. I looked up when I heard the slam of their front door shutting. “Hi, Cla-“ I stopped. Clark lurched forward and was rolling down the steps of his house; shifting direction, then into the grass. I took a few cautious steps closer. A hand grabbed my ankle. I screamed as I felt terror course through my body. I was shaking, tremors wracking my body as I built up the courage to look down. A hand, covered in the same, throbbing black veins was clutching onto my ankle. More were sprouting out of the ground and began to grab at Clark’s body. “No- stop!” The hand yanked harshly and my legs gave out under me, my head hitting the pavement. I sat up, propping myself up on my scraped and bleeding elbows. Clark was staring back at me, his eyes glazed over in a milky white. He smiled at me, black dripping through his teeth. And then he was pulled under.

I shuddered as I quickly fixed my clothes and ran to school. The day passed quickly, with only a few encounters of Jack tugging on my skirt, asking to go back to pre-school. At the end of the day, I took Jack to the cemetery and buried him again.

I walked back home, keeping my shoulders hunched and muttering ‘Friggatriskaidekaphobia’ under my breath, over and over. I had it memorized as soon as Jack died. I felt a hand grabbing me. A cold, dead hand. I pushed it off and ran, willing my legs to not give up. Then, I heard a scream. A male’s scream. Not Clark. He’s already dead. Jeffrey? I ran back to where I had come from, knowing it would be my fault for pushing the assaulter onto my best friend.

I rounded a corner and- he was dead; lying in a dumpster with that same black liquid, flowing from his empty sockets and gaping mouth. The same black veins, running themselves over his flesh; a knife still plunged into his stomach.

I ran away. I ran back home, fists clenched the entire time in anger, frustration, and fear. I didn’t bother sending Jack back again, I ignored Clark, Aria, and Kelsey in the front, didn’t fix Mom’s floorboard, pounded over Dad’s step, and forgot to say hi to Courtney. I looked into my mirror, my hair plastered to my face with sweat and blood. My uniform torn. My skin was bruising and bleeding, covered in… black veins. I looked into my eyes, trying to see something. Nothing. The milky white had already spread itself over them. I looked into my hands, bleeding from clenching my fists so hard and digging my fingernails in them.

A knife. Not my fingernails. A knife. The knife that had been pressed, twisted, buried in Jeffrey’s stomach. A knife; pressing into the soft, pink flesh of my now tainted hands. Or had they always been tainted? The blood ran free. How did my family die? I didn’t remember much of how they died or the events leading up to it. Clark lives alone, who pushed him? “No.” I glanced out the window. There was a mound of dirt where Clark had ‘disappeared’ into the ground. I looked below the windowsill. A trunk, slightly open, filled with… “No…” I averted my eyes from the murder tools sitting in that box and glanced behind myself in the mirror; Jack crawling on my shoulders, leaning over and yanking on my skirt. Clark harshly gripping and shaking my shoulders, his grimy hands all over me. Aria playing with my hair, tangling it, pulling it. Kelsey licking my arm, biting in places, leaving dark, red, welts. Mom clawing my stomach and she grasped higher and swatted at my eyes. Dad twisting around my legs and bending them into unnatural positions.

I felt a sharp pain in my legs and I collapsed to the floor. I could hear the cracking of my bones as they tortured me slowly as I had done to them. I could taste my blood turning to black. I could smell the black, running over my body, coating it in the thick, dark liquid. I could touch the dark veins rising in my flesh. I could see the fading light, my family’s silhouettes pressed into it, burned in my retinas forever more. I could feel my heart breaking. I drew my last breath, as they threw me in the fire.

“Friggatriskaidekaphobia…”