“I’m going to go get Lilah.”

“Okay,” Abby said, watching her older brother get out of the passenger seat and walk into the yellow house. She was sitting in the backseat on the farthest side from the driver who was looking rather bitter. She took a few deep breaths, the feel of the gasoline smell making her dizzy.

The driver, he snickered lowly, looking out the corner of his eye behind the driveway to the right. The care slowly backed up into the street. “Rick?” Abby mumbled, trying not to be heard. No one could ignore the scream she made when a car traveling down the same road rammed into the back of their car.

“Abby,” the driver, Rick, called. He was looking at the backseat at her with his normal empty eyes and shaggy face. “You okay?”

Abby just sat still in the backseat, replaying what could have happened in her mind. “Yeah,” she forced out of her mouth with a smile. She tried to push herself further away from him.

Rick turned away and sat waiting for Lilah and Graham. Abby didn’t think it was easy being the oldest. Rick didn’t seem too happy about it. She was the oldest girl, now twenty-three and living on her own. Rick was thirty and single. He was troubled. He was usually forced to come visit home with the others, and he only came if he could drive the car everywhere.

“Here they come.”

Abby looked out the left side of the car where Lilah’s front door was being opened.

“Get in the car!” her brother yelled, poking a gun at a young woman’s back.

“I’m going!” She’s yelling at him. They’re getting into multiple arguments at once and Graham has the gun pointed at her. Abby was hiding tears. She was scared, curling up in the backseat. BANG!

“Hey Abby,” Lilah, a young and vibrant-looking woman, greeted in a low tone as she got in the backseat behind Rick. There was no gun with her or Graham.

“Hey,” she squeaked and checked her pocket. Graham got in in front of her and turned on the radio. All the passengers wore winter coats. All of them were black except Abby’s, which was a sickly green that complimented her complexion and her skinny body. She eats and eats, yet she only seems to lose pounds. Her mother always pointed that out.

“God!” Lilah hissed and kicked a box in the backseat towards Abby’s side, getting a flinch as a reaction. Something clicked, but it was probably whatever was in the box breaking. “Why is there so much junk in this car?” 

“Because there is,” Rick growled.

Lilah snapped back at him, creating a growl as loud as the motor. The engine roared as the car was rammed into the garage door.

“We need to go to the store before we get back home,” Graham said. Abby just darted her eyes from passenger to passenger. They were all still alive.

“I know,” Rick snapped, backing out of the driveway.

“I was telling Lilah,” Graham replied bitterly.

“I already know,” she scoffed, crossing her arms and pouting. “I got Mom’s text.”

“Change the station,” Rick mumbled. “Change the station,” he snapped.

“It’s fine,” Graham told him.

“Change the stupid station!”

SKEEEERT! BOOM!

Abby focused her shaky vision outside the car where so far no car crashes have taken place. She had to stop thinking like this. Sure all her siblings had tempers, some worse than others, but they wouldn’t kill anybody, would they?

“Change the station!”

“I’m not changing it to heavy metal,” Graham snapped.

“Then freakin’ turn it off, scumbag!” Rick yelled.

“Fine!”

The radio was turned off and they drove to the store with few arguments and insults. The door next to Abby was broken, so she had to climb over boxes to get out. She trailed far behind the other three who were still making fun of each other and getting mad. The store was practically empty except for them and a few other people.

There was a policeman and a dog at the front door doing security. The dog started sniffing around them, scaring Abby. She was shaking and sweating. “N-Nice dog,” she whimpered.

“Excuse me, ma’am, do you have any dangerous objects with you?” the policeman asked.

“I-I-I–“
“Ah, forget her,” Lilah muttered. “She’s just scared of the dog.” Abby wished she could talk like that to people, but everyone’s always telling her to shut up, so she never gets the chance.

Graham got a cart and pulled out a pile of sticky notes. “Okay, Mom and Dad said we can each get something, don’t go overboard.”
When he and Abby were getting their Mom’s soda, Rick came back carrying a large carton of energy drinks, the ones that taste like acid.

“Rick, what the heck?” Graham snapped. “One thing.”

“This is one thing.”

“That’s a carton of twenty gasoline cans for just you,” he pointed out.

“How much does it cost?” Abby wondered.

Rick snickered creepily. “I’ll go check.”

Abby and Graham went back to finding the right soda. Graham was just about to continue an odd conversation when the whole store shelf was starting to fall on them. The sound was overshadowed by creepy laughter.

“It’s fifteen bucks,” Rick said, coming back.

“Really?” Graham spat. “Couldn’t just get two or three cans for five dollars?”

“A can cost four bucks,” he said.

“So does a can of gasoline,” Graham told him.

Rick’s face twisted as he lifted the carton of horrible energy drinks up with both hands, proceeding to smash an end into Graham’s face.

“I’m getting it,” Rick said, sliding it into the bottom of the cart. Abby breathed heavily, burying her hands in her pockets and rubbing her fingers on some spare change and whatever else.

“Fine,” Graham sighed and they continued shopping. Next they had to get Dad’s pasta. “I don’t see it.”

“Just call Mom,” Rick growled, hating having to be patient.

“I’m still looking,” Graham said, but Rick pulled out the emergency cellphone anyway. So Abby and Graham went on shopping while Rick went on with a ten-minute conversation he insisted on making longer by repeating himself.

Abby pushed the cart to the dairy isle where Lilah was waiting.

“Thank God, you were taking forever.”

“You could have followed us or brought the yogurt to us,” Abby pointed out.

“Whatever,” Lilah spat, throwing her hands in the air as an act of unneeded protest. “I need some yogurt.”

“I wouldn’t say you need it,” Abby mumbled under her breath shyly.

SPLOT! SPLOT! SPLOT! One little comment brought Abby to a world of pain, being assaulted with varies yogurt containers and being hit constantly by her younger sister who was yelling at her to shut up.

“Whatever,” Lilah muttered and threw some yogurt into the cart.

All Abby wanted to get was one of those small containers of ice cream her parents used to get. She liked those. They were usually for her mom but when she didn’t want it, one of them got it. She only got one when she was the only one in the room with her. They were very good, and Abby really never got any treat from the store before. She always felt greedy for thinking of herself.

Finally, they came to the frozen good isle. Graham got a container of ice cream for the grocery list and told Abby to get something. She had said early that she was going to get ice cream, so in theory, she thought Graham meant for herself, but when she went to grabbed the half baked flavored dairy treat–

“I meant for everyone,” Graham told her.

Abby closed the freezer door. “Okay,” she squeaked and scanned the isle for an ice cream they could all share. Ice cream cones. She’d get one of them, but at least it was still ice cream.

“Where are Mom’s breakfast pizzas?” Lilah asked, standing in front of the frozen pizzas.

“I don’t know,” Graham said, coming over to look.

“Looks like we’re going to have to call Mom again?” Rick exclaimed, acting like it was the worst thing ever.

“I’m going to look around,” Lilah growled and did so.

Rick called their mother again. “Hey Mom!” It was like he was taking over fireworks. Abby shrunk down behind the cart, hopping no one would notice how loud he was talking. He kept talking and he walked down the isle and back constantly.

Graham just laughed. “Some people walk around when on the phone, Rick walks down the entire street.” Abby forced a small laugh.

SMASH! SMASH!  “Say ‘Hi’ to Mom!” Rick shouted, bashing the bottom of the cellphone into Graham’s skull. The big guy was trying to hold himself up on the side of the cart.

“Could you be any louder?” Graham asked him. His skull was still in one piece and still in his head as they went to pay for their groceries.

“Do you want to get kicked?” Rick joked (not really).

“I don’t want to get arrested for disturbing the peace,” Graham really joked.

“Actually Rick would probably be arrested for violent behavior in a public place,” Abby pointed out meekly.

SMACK!

They came to the checkout and Abby squeezed herself between the debit card scanner and the rack of magazines. Nobody looked very happy. She wasn’t either.

She hated getting in that gas-smelling car with people who acted like they were going to kill her. Whenever she talked about this as a child, they always said this was just how they talked and that she shouldn’t think anything of it. But it was the only thing she thought about. She feared for her life around these people.

The car ride back home was enough. Graham was driving and Rick put on heavy metal. Insanity ensued and there was screaming. Abby wanted to ask if Graham could pull over and she’d walk to their parents’ house, but a different idea got the best of her.
She pulled out what she held in her pocket this whole time and click. BANG!

This was not a hallucination. This was her actual choice.