have a couple of blocks to contemplate how it’s going to go.
As I walk, I pull my light windbreaker around me. The breeze is cool and I can smell fall thick in the air. Leaves fall from the trees, giving a glimmer of the orange and yellow hue that blankets the city this time of year. I pass row house after row house. Some people are out on their stoops. Some people are taking walks down the sidewalk. And some aren’t very kind, making snide comments to or about me.
“You should be on that show, The Walking Dead.”
“You sure you didn’t escape from the hospital?”
I ignore them and move on, but something catches my eye near the alley. Damn it. I’m almost to my dad’s house. Though it’s daytime, the alley is dark from the tall buildings around it. Stopping, I squint to try and see it better. Taking a few steps forward, the voice stops me in midstep, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Don’t go in there, Lieutenant.”
It’s a whisper, but loud enough to hurt my ears. I swipe the sweat from my brow. Why the hell am I sweating? It’s like forty degrees out here. Moving forward again, the voice repeats its warning.
I get a little closer to the dumpster. Is there a homeless person there? Are they screwing with me like the people back on the stoop? Blinking, I try to clear my vision. My heart is beating so hard that I’m certain you could see it thumping against my chest.
Is that the same woman who slammed me against the mirror? I backtrack and she reaches her pale hand out. “Where you going?”
“You’re not real,” I say back. “Why are you here?”
“You thought I’d stay at your house?” She cocks her head to the side. Her dark blue veins are visible against her white skin. Her hair is stringy and oily and she has a gaping wound near her hairline on her forehead. “You’re in for a rude awakening, Lieutenant.”
“What do you mean?” Maybe I am crazy. I’m standing in a dirty alley trying to reason with this creepy image that could very well be something from my imagination.
“I don’t give a damn about your house. It is you I give a damn about. We need to finish what we started in your bathroom last night.” Her black eyes stare daggers at me and she is somehow getting closer to me without even walking. The toes of her shoes scrape against the asphalt.
At first I am frozen. I watch as she miraculously moves forward. She’s not floating, but she’s also not walking. She is literally on her tiptoes, sliding across the ground. I can’t believe what I’m seeing, but after a few seconds, my adrenaline kicks in and I run in the opposite direction. I’m not going to allow her to take hold of me again. It’s obvious her intention is to hurt me.
Lungs burning, body aching, head pounding, I sprint back out onto the sidewalk, avoiding all of the suspicious glances people are sending my way. I slow to a quick walk and look over my shoulder a few times. Of course she’s not there.
What in the hell is going on? It’s true – I really thought that the ghosts I’ve been seeing wouldn’t follow me. That’s what happens in movies, right? It’s the house that’s haunted and when Rose kicked me out, I did fear that she would have to handle it, but in this case, it’s obviously not true. The creepy razor-toothed woman is following me. She was in the alley, plain as day. I’m never going to get rid of her. What is it going to take to get my life back?
I round the corner, finally making it to my dad’s street. The row houses are a little nicer this direction and there aren’t as many people out. I hesitate as I see his mailbox just a few feet away. I think about the night he started to hate me. The night that changed everything.
Memories flood me. I see my little brother on the stoop, covered in blood. Blinking, I try to fight it. I can’t think of this right now. I need to beg my father to let me in.
“Nathan, what are you doing here?”
His voice breaks my
As I walk, I pull my light windbreaker around me. The breeze is cool and I can smell fall thick in the air. Leaves fall from the trees, giving a glimmer of the orange and yellow hue that blankets the city this time of year. I pass row house after row house. Some people are out on their stoops. Some people are taking walks down the sidewalk. And some aren’t very kind, making snide comments to or about me.
“You should be on that show, The Walking Dead.”
“You sure you didn’t escape from the hospital?”
I ignore them and move on, but something catches my eye near the alley. Damn it. I’m almost to my dad’s house. Though it’s daytime, the alley is dark from the tall buildings around it. Stopping, I squint to try and see it better. Taking a few steps forward, the voice stops me in midstep, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
“Don’t go in there, Lieutenant.”
It’s a whisper, but loud enough to hurt my ears. I swipe the sweat from my brow. Why the hell am I sweating? It’s like forty degrees out here. Moving forward again, the voice repeats its warning.
I get a little closer to the dumpster. Is there a homeless person there? Are they screwing with me like the people back on the stoop? Blinking, I try to clear my vision. My heart is beating so hard that I’m certain you could see it thumping against my chest.
Is that the same woman who slammed me against the mirror? I backtrack and she reaches her pale hand out. “Where you going?”
“You’re not real,” I say back. “Why are you here?”
“You thought I’d stay at your house?” She cocks her head to the side. Her dark blue veins are visible against her white skin. Her hair is stringy and oily and she has a gaping wound near her hairline on her forehead. “You’re in for a rude awakening, Lieutenant.”
“What do you mean?” Maybe I am crazy. I’m standing in a dirty alley trying to reason with this creepy image that could very well be something from my imagination.
“I don’t give a damn about your house. It is you I give a damn about. We need to finish what we started in your bathroom last night.” Her black eyes stare daggers at me and she is somehow getting closer to me without even walking. The toes of her shoes scrape against the asphalt.
At first I am frozen. I watch as she miraculously moves forward. She’s not floating, but she’s also not walking. She is literally on her tiptoes, sliding across the ground. I can’t believe what I’m seeing, but after a few seconds, my adrenaline kicks in and I run in the opposite direction. I’m not going to allow her to take hold of me again. It’s obvious her intention is to hurt me.
Lungs burning, body aching, head pounding, I sprint back out onto the sidewalk, avoiding all of the suspicious glances people are sending my way. I slow to a quick walk and look over my shoulder a few times. Of course she’s not there.
What in the hell is going on? It’s true – I really thought that the ghosts I’ve been seeing wouldn’t follow me. That’s what happens in movies, right? It’s the house that’s haunted and when Rose kicked me out, I did fear that she would have to handle it, but in this case, it’s obviously not true. The creepy razor-toothed woman is following me. She was in the alley, plain as day. I’m never going to get rid of her. What is it going to take to get my life back?
I round the corner, finally making it to my dad’s street. The row houses are a little nicer this direction and there aren’t as many people out. I hesitate as I see his mailbox just a few feet away. I think about the night he started to hate me. The night that changed everything.
Memories flood me. I see my little brother on the stoop, covered in blood. Blinking, I try to fight it. I can’t think of this right now. I need to beg my father to let me in.
“Nathan, what are you doing here?”
His voice breaks my
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