Winter Wakes

By the time I made my reappearance into the parlor everyone but my father had left. That is, everyone living had left. Satan—I mean Simon, was obviously serious about what he had said, as though the physical abuse hadn’t proved that point already. It was distracting to have someone hovering over you all the time.

“About earlier,” My dad had loosened the tie on his shirt, and looked slightly disheveled as he cleared his throat. “Are you feeling okay? I understand your migraines; your mother had them too. But, you’ve never passed out before. Is something wrong? Do you need to go to the doctor?”

No father, I just need a priest and an exorcism. Yeah, right.

“No, dad, I’m fine. Sorry about that. Look, I think just seeing someone my age in a casket kind of freaked me out a little, really,” I offered.

“Funny. The best part of that was it wasn’t really a lie,” The voice drifted from behind me, with the clear intent of taunting hidden in its tone.

My dad glanced away for one brief second, and that was all the time I needed to attempt to elbow Simon in the stomach. Problem was I didn’t hit anything. Second problem was I could feel the chill radiating from him. Oh shit.

“You don’t have to go to the funeral tomorrow, not if it bothered you that much,” My father sighed. “I don’t want to put you through anything that may upset you. That was not my intention, and I’m sorry for asking you to come tonight.”

I felt a lift in my spirits with that statement. My ass wouldn’t be stuck out in the freezing cold; that was a good day.

“Oh, you’re going. You don’t have a choice,” Simon’s voice countered in a menacing growl. My happy bubble immediately burst. At that point I wasn’t sure whether I was more pissed off or intimidated. It was one thing for him to constantly be around, but a completely different one when he was trying to control my life. Just who the hell did he think he was? My arms were crossed behind my back, in response I flicked him off. Less than two seconds later I felt that very finger being bent back in a painful way. I tried not to let out a whimper of pain. Oh yeah. That’s who he was; the guy who could and would hurt me.

“No,” I said quickly. “No dad, I’ll go tomorrow, I’ll be fine. Really.”

I was pleased to feel the pain ease up then. I sincerely hated him.

“Are you sure?” My dad eyed me with concern, obviously thinking I wouldn’t be able to handle it.

I nodded, attempting to smile, “Yeah. I’ll be okay. I can go.”

It was silent for a few seconds as he stood observing me. I held my fake smile as best I could. That was difficult since I could feel the disdain resonating from my new best friend behind me. It was extremely unsettling.

He ran his fingers through his short, graying hair, “If you say so. But, will you be okay to drive home or do you want to ride with me? I don’t want you passing out behind the wheel and driving into a tree or a cow or something.”

I opened my mouth to accept that offer, but quickly thought better of it. There were a few reasons for that. Firstly, I didn’t like the idea of leaving my car here. Someone might try to break into it. That and I didn’t like NOT having the ability to drive somewhere whenever I needed to. It almost made me feel trapped. The second reason was also the reason I’d wanted to accept that offer. Who knows what ghost-boy would try to do to me while I was driving? There was potential that riding with him meant a risk of life. Then again, who knew what he’d do if I would have said yes?

Somewhat worried, I shook my head.

“I can drive home. I’ll just follow you, okay?”

“Really?”

I nodded once, “Yeah. The migraine’s gone, dad. I can drive.”

“Smart girl.”

I winced slightly. My stomach was flipping due to nerves. I was scared.

My dad dropped it after that, just shrugging. He turned off the lights in the parlor, and I followed him out the back door with my unwanted shadow right behind.

Simon appeared in the back of my little car as I walked out, sitting right behind the driver’s seat. I had a sinking feeling in my gut about that. I did not get comfortable after I’d clambered in, and turned the engine on. Sure enough as soon as my dad had started to pull out of the parking lot the fun started. I hadn’t even had a chance to put my car in reverse.

I felt the thin cord of my necklace tighten severely around my neck. It was being pulled from behind me, of course. The back of my head was now pressed against the black leather headrest. My fingers clawed senselessly at the slim rope of the necklace, the black stone it held pressing into my throat. That was my favorite necklace to top it off; I didn’t recall the last time I’d actually taken it off. But I’m sure that would change now.

“I do not tolerate disrespect in any form, whether it is you giving me the finger, or attempting to elbow me in the stomach. Ineffective or not, it still pisses me off.”

The cord was suddenly released, and I let out a strangled cough as I clutched my throat. I really hated him.

“Are you trying to kill me?” I wheezed. I could distinctly feel the pulse in my throat with every beat.

I heard a scoff from behind me, “You’d be useless dead, since you’re the only one who can see me. But frankly you’re pretty much useless anyways.”

I didn’t respond to that. Thank you, but I’d been physically abused enough for one day. I finally put my car in reverse, adjusting my mirror to where it focused on Simon as I did so. I found it far more pertinent to keep an eye on him than on the cars that were behind me. I could easily see him trying to make me wreck. I can tell you my eyes probably spent more time looking at him in the backseat then they did looking at the road on the drive home. But really, who could blame me?

His presence, I decided, was something I couldn’t ignore. It was almost unbearable; and felt like an immense pressure I couldn’t escape. It was dark; it was heavy. I felt it when I left my car, and entered our two story house; when I carefully walked up our creaky stairs, jumping the fourth step because it always sounded as though it was about to fall through; even when I shut myself in my room and went to change in the bathroom. I must say, having it feel as though someone is watching you change with such a disturbing aura is quite unnerving.

Even better; you walk back out and he’s leaning against the wall in your room maliciously glaring at you. The obvious hostility and hate made me feel as though I’d been the one to put him six feet under. Well. He’d be 6 feet under tomorrow.

“May I ask what the hell I’ve done to you exactly to make you despise me so?” I huffed in irritation from the doorway between the rooms.

He managed to maintain his bitter mask as he raised an eyebrow. I didn’t want to know what he was contemplating; I had a feeling it involved me and further violence. That being said I found myself taking a step back onto the cold bathroom tiles with my hand on the door, ready to shut it at the first sign of danger. I was certain the wooden door would protect me from the sadistic ghost who could walk through walls, totally.

“You appear to have the IQ of a dung beetle. You’re rude. You’re not faintly attractive,” He replied bluntly from where he stood. “Fair enough?”

I gaped at him, awed, “’Fair enough?’ Are you serious? You physically abuse me because you think I’m a moron, I’m a smartass, and you don’t find me bangable? You think thatconstitutes physical violence?”

His eyes had hardened as I had spoken. I immediately began regretting my commentary. But those were ridiculous reasons to condemn someone. But I'll take that as his way of saying, yeah-it-does. It left me feeling nothing short of livid to think about that. I felt my wary gaze shift to a glare to match his.

"Were you this big of an asshole when you were alive?" It came out before I could think twice. Then I froze. That was it.

"This is because you're dead, isn't it?"

I paused momentarily, "And I'm alive."

I had expected to at least stir some kind of emotion, whether it be further anger, shock, regret (god forbid), or anything different from that horrifying, bone-chilling glare. But I got nothing.

“Why don’t you mind your own business?”

I could hear the edge of a warning in the tone of his voice. I think he wanted me to drop it. But at the same time I think I struck a nerve.

“Try looking at it this way,” I finally stepped into my room, closing the bathroom door behind me. “You obviously have every intention of sticking around because for some unknown reason I’m the only person who can see you. Since that’s the case, and I’m stuck with you, don’t you think it would be my business? I mean, you barged into my life. I didn’t ask you to. By doing so, you kinda made it my business.”

I had made it over to my bed, where I now sat cross-legged on the edge. I kept eye contact with him, despite the fact the daunting glare had considerably darkened. I hadn’t thought that possible. They had maintained their startling shade of icy blue, but in their depths you could see every negative emotion possible boiling over; all directed at me.

“You know nothing,” Simon replied quietly. But the quiet to it hadn’t been the soft, defeated quiet. This was the lethal quiet. It was then I decided I’d reached his limits. I wasn’t willing to push any more; I didn’t know what would happen. But I had a feeling it would be painful, and none too pleasant.

I looked away from him, pulling the silk navy comforter and sheets down as I did so, “I’m going to bed. I know you pretty much hate me, and I’m something along the lines of a nuisance for you, but you need to realize you’re not much better. You’re probably worse, because you know what? You’re the one who brought this situation onto both of us.”

I usually regretted saying things that I knew would hurt people, I even thought about that as I clambered into my silk sheets. I always regretted saying things like that except in this case. I felt no guilt, no remorse for what I’d just said to him. He didn’t deserve it. He was cruel, forcing his way into my life as he had. I harbored nothing but disdain for him.

Even as I tried to doze off, my back to him, I could feel his scornful gaze fixated on me. I watched the shadows of the trees dance in the wind on white washed wall of my bedroom, unable to ignore the sensation of being stared at. At some point while focusing on the silhouettes of the leafless limbs I did slip into a state of sleep.

“…Enjoy your nightmares…”