I never liked going to family reunions, too many political arguments and snide remarks and aunties who just didn't know when to stop pushing you for information. It was like every conversation was an interrogation and I was always in the wrong.
So naturally I found my excuse to not go for the first time,much to everyone's very vocal disappointment but "work wouldn't give me the time off" and "you guys have fun without me, I'll catch you around the year" not to mention "I'm so upset I can't even talk now" - all of which was a fairly big lie but they seemed to buy it.
A few days later I get a knock on my door and a couple of officers are bringing me the news that the hall my family rented out for the reunion had burned down. In fact, the fire wasn't quite out yet so I'd have to wait a while before I could ID anyone.
They failed to mention that most of the bodies were fused to the floor, the doors, the windows - all permanently trapped in their failed attempts to escape. Walking around with them, trying and failing to find even the slightest hint of familiarity from the warped corpses of the people I'd grown up with, that was the worst point in my life.
At least, it was until the dreams began.
They may have scraped everybody away enough to bury something of them but there's still so much they left behind that yesterday I got an invite for the next reunion. It still smelled like burnt meat and plastic, still had black fingerprints from where they had held the envelope.
I don't think I've got an excuse to avoid them this year.
So naturally I found my excuse to not go for the first time,much to everyone's very vocal disappointment but "work wouldn't give me the time off" and "you guys have fun without me, I'll catch you around the year" not to mention "I'm so upset I can't even talk now" - all of which was a fairly big lie but they seemed to buy it.
A few days later I get a knock on my door and a couple of officers are bringing me the news that the hall my family rented out for the reunion had burned down. In fact, the fire wasn't quite out yet so I'd have to wait a while before I could ID anyone.
They failed to mention that most of the bodies were fused to the floor, the doors, the windows - all permanently trapped in their failed attempts to escape. Walking around with them, trying and failing to find even the slightest hint of familiarity from the warped corpses of the people I'd grown up with, that was the worst point in my life.
At least, it was until the dreams began.
They may have scraped everybody away enough to bury something of them but there's still so much they left behind that yesterday I got an invite for the next reunion. It still smelled like burnt meat and plastic, still had black fingerprints from where they had held the envelope.
I don't think I've got an excuse to avoid them this year.
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