Hallows: Merciful Death

Not Tonight

Billie Eilish & Khalid- Lovely

B.B:

One thing I always admired about Delilah was how organized she was. When we were in middle school, we found dad's personal journals where he would write sappy poems and songs along the margins but the journals were more than that. The music was his escape.

His escape from what you may ask? Well, his demons. The Darkness inside of him. Dad was a dark prince of Hellbourne. What that means is that he ran the Hellbourn underground just like my sister, in his youth. He was king at my age just like she had been with the guidance of his journals. She worshipped those things. I only have one but I've read them all.

Routes, names, stash houses, mouse holes, and detailed battle formations specified to Hellbourne. All these things are still relevant to this day. The names were just passed on through the generations. Do I want to do this? No, but I do want closure. What was it that pushed Delilah into the abyss? Something had to have happened. Something or someone pushed her to it. I'm certain of it.

It was uncle Desmond's death for dad. His best friend. He was never the same after his overdose. He retired but there was nothing tethering him to our world anymore. What did they do to you, Dilly? What was it that pushed you of the edge? I just want to know why you would f*****g do what you did? You had me. You had Luce and Carson. Terra. You had us all and we would have done anything for you.

I don't want to run the school. I don't care about that. I never did but I'm going to have to dive deep into this and I can't do it alone. I have two years before it's over to figure it out. That's more than enough time, I think. It's going to take something I'm not used to practicing. Patience.

I was going through my clothes for tomorrow's party when I hear yelling coming from downstairs. I opened the door to see Detective Espinosa in the doorway of our front door. My mom's shadow is leaking in from the family room.

"I have given you and your f*****g brats everything," he shouts at her. "I took care of your f*****g emo kid after the other one hung herself from right here," he points at the chandelier. "Me, you ungrateful b***h. f**k you, Ashley. Do whatever the f**k you want,"

"I need you to move out. This house belongs to B.B. and I don't want you here with her," her tone is bored.

My mom isn't at all intimidated by her husband. I've never seen her raise her voice at him or take any particular interest in him. Not the way she did with my dad. Their arguments were epic and ended-let's not think about that. It wasn't healthy but in the very least it wasn't empty. How Espinosa can take her indifference is beyond me. I know it cuts deep when she looks at me like she could care less if I dove off the ballroom terrace out back.

"This is my house," he growls.

"No, it's not. This is her father's house and you're not her father. So, get your s**t and get the f**k out. I leave on Friday, be sure to have all your s**t cleared out by then," she sighs. Her voice completely dissociated.

"Or what?" he steps into her.

"Don't do that," I speak up. I know her. She'll take it without making a sound. My mom craves a special kind of toxicity. One my father fulfilled. Even if he tried, the best Espinosa can do is probably backhand her but knowing her, she'd love that s**t. A real reaction is all she cares about. Hitting her is not something my dad would ever do but David isn't Dante. "She's right. This is my house and I've never wanted you here to begin with. I'll have Margarita pack your s**t and you can pick it up tomorrow,"

"You are not-"

"You don't have a choice, I cut him off sternly. "You have no jurisdiction here. Blackstone Manor isn't even in Hellbourne city limits. If I call the cops, the state troopers will come,"

"You think you're so f*****g clever, emo girl," he scoffs before looking between us. "Ojala te pudras, perra,"

"Thanks. Me too," I nod.

I'm not sure who he said that to but I'll f*****g kill him if he said it to her. No one and I mean no one will ever disrespect my mother in front of me. She has enough to deal with from my venomous trap. They don't have the right to even speak her name with malice behind it.

"This isn't over," he points at me.

"Have it your way, detective. I warn you, I'm not Delilah. I'm not going to bow my head to you, ass hole," I scoff. He sneers at me before ripping the front door open and storming out.

"You can't kill him. He's a cop," my mom crosses her arms over her chest. She's smiling. Amused by what just happened. When did I get so brave? How am I still completely calm? My words were a promise not just a threat.

"What?" I ask humor lacing that single word.

"I know that look. I fell in love with it when I was fourteen years old, B.B. Whatever it is you want from this town, is it really worth you throwing your life away?"

What the f**k is that supposed to mean?

"I'm not going to kill anyone, mom. You sound ins-wait. Did dad..?"

"I didn't say that," she turns away immediately dismissing the subject. "Keep quiet. I need to practice. I'll tell Margarita to pack his s**t up in the morning,"

"Okay," I nod. She shuts the front door and goes back to the piano.

I sit at the top of the stairs listening to her play. Nocturne No. 2. It's late but Ashley has all the lights on. I look up at the chandelier. I can still hear the eerie sound of it lightly swinging back and forth. I'm terrified to come out here in the middle of the night. The dark shadow of her swinging there haunts me. For the first couple of months, I would sit with my back to my bedroom with my headphones on max trying to drown out the creaking. I used to smoke myself into sleep. How the f**k am I going to survive staying here all alone for two years? I doubt mom is going to visit as frequently.

Trying to think less, I go back up to my room to choose what I'm going to wear tomorrow. I settle with my favorite short, black, white-collar Valentino dress. Since it is a little cold out now, I look for my black nylons and set my black Prada Monolith boots out so that I can give them a little shine tomorrow. If I am going to start running around town, I want to look my best. After all, this is Blackstone business and Blackstone business has certain requirements. It's why my sister wore the classic business goth attire.

"Hey," mom taps on my door. I go over and opened it up. She walks right in without me inviting her in. As if she were trying to catch me doing something wrong. I almost laugh at that. "Are you going out tonight?"

"No, tomorrow. Stacy is having a party,"

"How is Tammy doing with the divorce?" she asks sitting on my bed. Again, without being asked.

"She bailed," I shrug.

"Is it true Rudy is into men now?" she asks looking my outfit over.

"Yeah, he married our principal,"

"Justin? Oh, he's cute. Good for him," she nods. "You guys partying at the Whitmore estate?"

"Yeah,"

"Somethings just never die," she smiles fondly. "This is cute. I got some accessories for it. Interested?"

"Sure,"

"You got a date?" she presses.

"Two," I smile.

"B.B," she placed her hand over her chest with a huge grin on her face. Most moms would probably try to slap some sense into me but not Ashley. I guess marrying a rockstar young changes the rules of morality somehow.

"It's just Luce and Carson,"

"Wow, I haven't heard those names in a while," she nods. "Hey, what happened to that cute kid you were dating? What was his name?"

"Shane. He's with Rosa now," I give her another shrug. One day with Stacy and. I'm already picking up habits.

"You're not still friends with that little girl, right? She's always been a f*****g snake,"

"For once, we agree," I laugh, hanging my clothes up for tomorrow. "I uh-I caught them in our pantry after the wake,"

"Oh, B.B," her shoulders slump down. "I'm sorry, honey. What did you do to her?" there's a tone in her voice. A little wicked tone that tells me she's always known exactly who I am. "Don't skip on the details,"

"Nothing. I didn't care and Dilly had just-" she's nuts but the old me would have loved to be interrogated like this.

"But you feel it now, hmm?" she smirks.

"Not really. I honestly don't care for either of them. I catch him looking at me sometimes,"

"f*****g d**k," she rolls her eyes. "Gaslighters are the f*****g worst,"

"I was never really that into him anyway. I never even f****d him. It's probably why he hooked up with Rosa," I was a little scared and I didn't have anyone to talk to it about it. Delilah had a girlfriend. I didn't think she'd understand.

"He was too vanilla for you anyway. You might be a Blackstone but you're also a Villanueva and we like our men wild,"

"Okay," I laugh. She might not be wrong.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" she asks again.

"This is my home, ma," I shrug. "Besides, I don't think I could get into Italian dudes. Not when American boys with tats exist,"

"Be careful, B.B. Are you on birth control?" she looks down at her coffin-shaped nails with a playful smile on her glossy lips. I look down at my hands. I am in need of a serious manicure.

"Yes, but I'm not f*****g around. I get irregular periods,"

"Ugh, B.B," she rolls her eyes at me.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"Look, I know I'm not around enough to come in here and pretend to be something I'm not. Your dad was always better at this domestic s**t. So, instead, I'll pass on some words of wisdom. Have fun. Safely, you certainly don't want to be stuck here cause you got knocked up by some s**t hole you don't love and especially not at your age. Junior level,"

"I'm seventeen, ma. Really?" I smirk.

"When do you turn eighteen?"

"What?"

"Kidding. I know that,"

"When is my birthday, mother?" I ask putting my hands on my hips challengingly.

"Mmm, you're definitely a Sagitarrius. You were born on December 19th. I should know. I was there," she grinned loving that she annoys me.

"Mom," I scoff. She laughs.

"Want to get your hair done tomorrow? You can finally do the pink,"

"Really? You give me permission?" I smile. I've been asking her since freshman year. I'm sure I would have gotten away with it in her absence but why poke the sleeping bear? The last thing I want is for her to video chat me at every turn.

"Yeah, I think it'll look cute and a little change is much needed. We can get mani-pedis. Facials, shoe shopping. What do you think?" she grins brightly. f**k. This feels a little familiar, doesn't it? Delilah started off as overly affectionate as well.

"I'd love that, ma. Yeah," I nod. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Before she can say anything, my speaker announces a call. "Hey, Stacy,"

"Umm, can you come get me?" her voice is low. "I don't know who else to call,"

"Yeah, yeah. Where are you?" I ask. Mom gets up, nodding.

"Somewhere on route sixty-eight," I can tell she's fighting a breakdown. Her voice is on the verge of breaking out in sobs.

"I'm on my way. Stay on the phone with me. What's going on?" we both rushed down the stairs when I grab a blanket.

"Uh," her voice is trembling. "I'm not really sure,"

We got in my mom's Mercedes. Before I could say another word my mom punches it. It's a little reckless considering it's pouring out here.

"Okay, I'm on the road we're turning onto the highway," I reassure her.

"Hey, please don't be alarmed. But I'm pretty beat up," she whispers.

"Okay. We'll talk about it later?"

"Yeah," she lies with a heavy sigh.

"f**k," I whisper when I spot her on the road.

"Oh, my god," my mom pulls over.

Stacy is wearing one of her usual black Lolita mini skirts, paired with a see-through black lace bodice over a dark red tube top, and her signature black leather combat boots with silver metal straps. The lace is all torn up. Her pretty goth girl makeup is a mess. Her red hair is messy even with the rain drenching it. It looks like she took a really bad beating and I pray that it's the only thing they've done to her because I'm just about getting ready to murder someone. I jump out of the car holding my blanket open for her.

"Hey," I greet her. She looks up with her beautiful green eyes and runs to me. I wrap her in the blanket as she starts to cry.

"B.B," she begins to sob uncontrollably.

"I'm right here. You're staying with me tonight," I lead her back to the car as she nods her head up and down.

My mom doesn't say a single word when I push the passenger seat forward and climb into the back seat with her. Stacy didn't stop crying all night. I help her shower and find bruises everywhere. Blood was dripping down her legs but I don't say a single word. Not tonight. For now, all I can do is hold her and hope she tells me the name of the f*****g asshole that needs to pay for this.