Page 1 of Peripheral Vision (Tethered in Darkness Duet #1)

DYLAN

W hy does nobody ever talk about how life can change in the blink of an eye?

Sure, we’re always told it can, but nobody has ever bothered to actually explain to me what happens after it does.

How to handle it. Why things happen the way they do.

I feel completely and utterly unprepared with how to navigate my day-to-day life now, ever since I’ve been left entirely alone.

Well, maybe not entirely. I look at Alaska, the eight-year-old Golden Retriever that my dad rescued just before my fourteenth birthday seven years ago, where she lays on her bed next to my own.

She was just younger than a year old. She had been tied up on a lead outside of some shady trailer in our area with no shelter, and her food and water bowl were almost always empty or out of reach.

She had been all skin and bones before he bought her off her piece of shit owners.

They definitely overcharged, but Dad said that easing an animal’s suffering has no price tag.

It’s one of my favorite things about him—or was, I suppose.

I called the nursing home where she is being taken care of now to see how she is doing; to see if she’s been having any good days to gauge.

But the nurses informed me that if anything, she is getting worse.

Spending most of her time sleeping or sitting in front of the window, looking out on the facilities garden and pond.

The only saving grace with Dad’s death is the death gratuity paid out to any surviving family, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to continue to afford our half of Grandma’s care.

I’ve only got one more year where I’d be eligible to receive any retirement benefits of his, so I can’t count on that.

But fifty percent of the gratuity has been designated for her care, which should cover the expenses for her for at least the next few years, if she makes it that long.

So long as my uncle continues to pay his dues, I’ll be okay until I can figure out a long-term plan.

After that… I’m not sure what I’m going to do.

Groaning, I run my hands down my face, blowing a strand of hair out of my eye.

That’s only one thing on my laundry list of things to get squared away.

I need to get my courses rolled over from virtual to in-person at Virginia Tech and find a place to rent.

I know I could stay on base and continue online courses for the next year, as is my right, but it already feels lonelier since finding out about my father’s passing.

To know that he will never walk through the door again and greet me with one of his world-famous hugs and whatever gift he managed to bring home from wherever he was in the world.

Those thoughts… the memories, they no longer bring me joy, but pain.

I need to be somewhere not so filled with them, somewhere without any daily reminders.

And on top of that, I need to search for a job.

I wasn’t working while my dad was enlisted because his benefits and pay covered enough for the both of us and ensured I could just focus on my studies.

Now, whatever my half of the death gratuity is will be going to my tuition…

and I definitely won’t have any left over for rent or food, or basic daily living expenses.

I roll back over before I just give up on falling back asleep and toss the sheets back. Like I said, more preparation for life actually changing in the blink of an eye would’ve been great. When it rains, it’s a fucking torrential downpour.