MUSHROOM m i n d

By Steph Raymond All Rights Reserved ©

Other / Poetry



It seemed as though she was asleep and suddenly woke to shouting.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Joseph bangs his fists atop the steering wheel with every new curse—and with every thump Gemma’s blood ran a little quicker.

It was dark outside, save for the many stars that spotted the night sky like

s p i l l e d freckles.

She suddenly remembered foolishly

wishing to run amongst the stars

as a child, and felt a pang of nostalgia.

“I’m sick of running around for her.”

“Running around for her?

We’re picking her up from a show and bringing her to our own house.

How is that running around?”

She kept her gaze on the sky through the car window.

“She’s so fucking selfish, I can’t stand it.”

“I don’t say mean things about your family,

please give me the same courtesy.”

“I’m a part of this family too!”

Gemma bit her tongue not to protest.

Their roommate, and Gemma’s youngest sister, coughs, reminding both Joseph and Gemma of her presence but also, as her own subtle protest to Joseph’s statement.

“Sorry Kylee.”

“Don’t be.” She says.

They drive into the parking lot, which is busier than Main Street which aggravated Joseph further.

Cars seemed to be coming and going in every direction, causing

l i g h t s to flash

in every corner of their vision.

Flies hovered in the glow of the street lights in the parking lot and voices rang loud with excitement after a great show.

Somehow everything felt slow and fast all at the same time.

“I’m gonna fucking leave her there.

I don’t give a shit. This is dumb.”

Gemma doesn’t even realize she escapes a sigh

until Joseph stops the vehicle and

looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

In a sudden movement that she can’t even remember,

she opens the door and starts running home.

This too, she can’t remember.

But she remembers slowing to a walk around the time she reached the church and though she never looked back, she knew that her sister was walking behind her…keeping an eye on her.

By the time she walked into the house, her breath was too quick and her heart beat too fast.

She felt

u n c o m f o r t a b l e

in her skin and wanted to punish it by

peeling it away.

She grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer, walked upstairs, into her closet to sit and mixed her tears with blood until she fell asleep.

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