three
...
Time passed for what seemed like years but only two weeks of preparing a funeral for my father. Mom and Phil came to help plan his funeral, helped me pack up all of Dad's things, everything they could do to help with the grief.
Seth never left, only when he was out running around as a horse sized wolf with sandy fur.
Of course Mom and Phil didn't know that.
Jacob, Sarah, Billy, Sue and Harry came around too. Helping in any way that they could.
I wasn't grieving the way I should be. I wasn't preparing the way I should be.
For two weeks straight, my only best friends were straight liquor and a pack of menthol cigarettes.
That boy from my dreams. He haunted me every night. He didn't survive recovery, my mental trauma induced amnesia started to unfold. When it did, I drank, drank, drank and drank.
Tomorrow is the day.
The day I put my father in the ground in a nail-shut casket.