Death is a Girl

Additional Author Note! : I'd like to direct your attention to the shoutout above this chapter, as the writer is a friend of mine who was one of the very first beta readers for Death is a Girl and gave me great feedback. His story is currently doing quite well and making its way up Rising Stars, so if it looks like it may interest you please give it a chance!

Chapter 90 - Heart to Heart

After the moment passed, Morrigan couldn’t help but feel the awkwardness creeping back in. She’d been at odds with her mom her whole life, so she supposed she couldn’t expect things to change completely in one heartfelt moment. Still, something did change, and it felt good to have that moment with her.

“So, when do you think you’ll get out of here?” Morrigan asked.

“Don’t know. They’re not letting you come back with me until I’ve had a psych evaluation and fix some things with the house.” Her mom then muttered under her breath, “Fucking assholes.”

“Are you really going to be okay?” Morrigan asked.

Her mom took a little too long to answer. “Yeah.” It wasn’t very convincing, and Morrigan frowned. It was still hard to wrap her head around the fact that her mom had tried to end her life.

She recalled what Death had said about one of their clients.

“For some, the pain of existence becomes too much to bear. They come to a different perspective on what life—and death—mean… I would say for some, living is much harder than dying.”

Is that where her mom’s head was at right now? Was life so unbearable that she wanted to throw it away?

Her mom suddenly broke the silence with a loud exhale, as if she’d been having an internal conversation and finally reached a conclusion. “Being a mom’s the only thing I have, and I don’t even do that right. I’d be a lot worse at it if I weren’t even here, though. So… look, kid. I just had a really bad day. I’m not going to do that again. Alright? So don’t worry. I’m sorry you have to live somewhere else for a while now. I really am, but… I guess it just is what it is.”

“You’re not bad at being a mom, though,” Morrigan said quietly. “I just… I always think about what’s wrong. It’s not all your fault, and I’m sorry. I’m selfish—I only ever think about myself.”

Her mom smirked. “Nah, that’s how it’s supposed to be, Morrigan. You’re still a kid. Being a little selfish is your right. I’m the adult who couldn’t get her shit together.”

“But you did! You really did a good job!”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that. I know where I did okay, and I know where I screwed up. You didn’t have a normal childhood, and that’s not on you—it’s on me.” She looked up at the ceiling. “It’s too late to change that; you’re turning seventeen in six months. You’re damn close to being an adult. I think it was too late a long time ago…”

“What are you talking about?” Morrigan asked, sensing that her mom was still a little loopy, either from her condition or the treatment she’d been receiving. But one thing was certain—this might be the longest and most honest conversation they’d ever had.

“You’re a lot like me when I was your age,” her mom continued. “I ran away from home a bunch of times. But you’re smarter than me. You’re not just after a good time—you’re after something else. I don’t know what it is, but whatever it is, it’s better than where my head was at. Maybe you learned something from me after all, even if it’s what not to be.”

“Come on, Mom, don’t talk like that.”

Her mom grinned. “It’s true, though. I’m proud of you. Just take the compliment.” A silence hung in the air for a while until she asked, “So, where do they have you staying? You like it there?”

“Not really… They’ve kind of been keeping me locked up in a room.”

“Are you serious?” She looked pissed for a moment, but then paused and laughed. “Actually… that’s smart.”

Morrigan shrugged a shoulder. “I could’ve left already if I wanted. I slipped a piece of tape into the door jam and snuck out last night.”

Her mom smiled. “See? So why didn’t you leave if you got that far?”

“Well… I made a friend there, and I want to stick around to help her out. She lost her family in a car accident years ago. Um… her name’s Pepper; she’s younger than me. Fourteen, I think.”

Morrigan then thought about Jenna and what to do about her, and if there was anything she could do. “What else?” her mom asked, as if reading the unspoken thought on her face.

Morrigan exhaled. “There’s this other girl there. She’s tall, and I guess probably pretty strong, but she and her friends are bullying Pepper. They act like they own the place, and nobody does anything about it. I don’t think the counselors really get what’s going on.”

“Let me guess—she’s real good at helping to clean and stuff, right?”

“How did you know?”

“I ended up in a place like that for a little while. I was probably… fourteen myself. Took them a while to figure out where I belonged, so I hung out for a bit. Anyway, there was someone like that there.”

“What did you do about it?”

“Nothing. I eventually left. I didn’t really have a reason to do anything about it… but… if I had to.” She thought about it, her gaze growing distant as if some other lost memory had grabbed hold of her. It didn’t look like a happy one. “People like that get away with it because they know who to show their true colors to—the people who won’t do anything about it. Fucking animals. It’s almost like an instinct to know who they can manipulate and who not.”

Morrigan looked down, noticing how her mom’s fist balled up on the sheets. “Mom?”

Her hand relaxed. “Sorry, kiddo. I don’t really have an answer. Never figured that one out myself.”

There was something she wasn’t saying, Morrigan could tell. But she didn’t want to pry. “Punch her?” Morrigan asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Her mom smiled again. “If you think you can take her, yeah.”

“So I can blame you when they throw me in juvie?” Morrigan chuckled.

“Hey, I didn’t say kill her.” Her mom grinned. “But really. People like that are usually not what they make others believe they are. They’re not as strong, not as nice, not as powerful or in control. I’d say find a way to make sure everyone sees that, including her lackeys. Sorry, that’s the best I got for you.”

“Can I ask something else?”

“Sure.”

“After… I guess, my great-grandma died… you were still pregnant with me, right? How come nobody helped you? Or even after Dad died?” Her mom stared forward with that same distant gaze, and Morrigan regretted asking. “I’m sorry, never mind. You don’t have to answer that.”

“Nah… I will. Just not right now. Next time we’re home together, ask again, and I’ll try to tell you.”

Morrigan nodded, hoping she’d get that chance. As much as she was here, talking as the old Morrigan right now, the reality still lingered in the back of her mind. She was a reaper.

There was a tap on the door, and then it opened a moment later. Grant was standing just outside the threshold as a nurse entered the room with a polite smile. “Sorry to interrupt,” the nurse said softly. “I just need to check on a few things, Anna.”

Though, when Morrigan glanced over at Detective Grant, she knew her visit was coming to an end. She stepped back, giving the nurse room to work as she checked the medical equipment.

“Take care, kiddo,” her mom said. “Thanks for coming to visit. It means a lot.”

Morrigan nodded and looked toward Detective Grant.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Morrigan turned back to her mom and smiled. “I’ll try to make it back again soon.”

“Yeah. Thanks, kid. Stay tough, alright?”

“You too, Mom.”

With that, she left the room, and when the door closed behind her, she felt a sinking in her chest. She didn’t want to leave her mom; she wanted to stay and make sure she was okay, that nothing else would happen to her. But she knew she couldn’t stay there forever—and not just because of the cop or the CPS agent.

“So, Morrigan, if I can have a word for just a moment,” Saffron said, “to let you know what happens next.”

“Sure,” Morrigan shrugged.

“Well, first of all, we’d like to get you with a psychologist to make sure you’re doing okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sure, but it’s still good to have someone to talk to.” She cleared her throat. “We’re also a little worried about your weight.”

“What do you mean?” Morrigan asked, though she knew fully well why. She’d always been rather thin to begin with, before she died she weighed 110. She hadn’t checked recently, but she was sure she’d dropped at least fifteen pounds since then—maybe even twenty or more. Even Emma had pointed it out before, and she could see it in her own cheekbones, which the glamour didn’t hide very well. She couldn’t really help that, though. It kind of came with the territory of technically being dead.

Saffron hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “It’s just that you’ve clearly lost some weight compared to your photos before your disappearance. Sarah said you haven’t finished your meal last night or this morning, either.”

“Okay, I’ll try to eat more. No big deal.” Morrigan sighed. This kind of stuff was what she hated most about the whole situation.

“Other than that, I’ll be staying in touch with both you and your mother, and we’ll try to keep you both in the loop as much as possible. For now, we don’t have anywhere else for you to go, so you’ll likely be staying at the shelter for a while.”

“I figured as much.”

Saffron smiled. “If there’s anything else you need, you can call me anytime. Sarah will have my number.”

“Actually… would it be possible to get my own phone back?” She saw Grant’s hesitation and added, “Just long enough to get some phone numbers? I want to call my friend Emma.”

“Unfortunately, it’s at the station in evidence. If you can give me the unlock code, however, I could take a look at your contacts and send that information over to you.”

She didn’t trust him to do only that with her phone, so of course, she had to decline the offer. “Never mind. Um… so about going back to my house?”

“Yeah, we can swing by on our way back. Just as long as you make it quick. Alright?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Morrigan agreed.

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