Ghost of You

I stared at my hands, my eyes full of tears ready to burst. It was silent. It had been like that for a while now. There were six officers altogether: two riding around looking for Mom, two riding around looking for Gordon, and two who had stayed to speak to me.

Mr. and Mrs. Listing were in the kitchen, whispering back and forth with the two officers. Sarah was throwing a tantrum because she wasn't allowed downstairs. Neither was Georg.

I was still sitting on the couch, still trying to force through the lump in my throat, still trying to keep my cool. It wasn't working. None of it. I was trembling, my eyes staying focused on the floor. My breaths were sharp, as if my lungs were refusing to take in the air. They didn't want it. I didn't want it. I wanted to curl up on the floor and die. Point blank.

“Tom?” the voice whispered across the room, startling me.

I peered up, tears strangling my vision. It was Sarah. Her brown hair was out of it's usual high ponytail, falling a bit past her shoulders. She was hiding behind the wall of the stairs. Her eyes were wide and innocent, searching me. She stayed still, gripping the railing.

“Hi, Sarah,” I whispered back.

It was strange, my voice. It felt out of place. I felt surprised, as if I hadn't known it was there.

She used her index finger to tap below her eye. I reached up and gently touched the aching bruise underneath mine, tears smudging on my finger. I let out a small sob. Her eyes breathed sadness.

“Tom?”

I jumped at the sound of my name. Sarah squeaked and bolted up the stairs. It was one of the two officers that had stayed here at the house. He was young with smooth features and a large build, blonde hair sticking from beneath his blue-and-black police cap. He looked sympathetically down at me, his thumbs looped through his belt.

“Do you think you might know where your mother could have ran off to?”

I shrugged, searching my mind. “Maybe her office. She works at Jane's Real Estate up town. It's about an hour away. That's the only place I can think of.”

“Do you have any family that lives close by she may have gone to?”

I shook my head. “No,” I whispered.

The officer pulled his radio from his belt, talking into it as he retreated into the kitchen.

I closed my eyes, breathing in deeply. I could picture it: all of us together. Mom and Dad, me and Bill, all sitting together as a family, as Bill and I shared stories of school that day. I missed those days. Those days where life was easy and uncruel, where I was untouchable. Full of days filled with laughter and sun, and playtime and friends. And as everyone else floated from my thoughts, Bill remained. His short black hair and big smile. His thick brown eyes. And I wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel he was next to me, to know he had never left. But he was what I had felt: untouchable.

“I miss you,” I whispered as he slowly began to vanish.


I sat up and gently slid open the tan curtains of the window next to the guest bed. Moonlight flickered into the bedroom, illuminating only part of the bed.

The guest bedroom didn't have that much, really. There was a bed and a wardrobe that had once belonged to Mr. Listing's father. There were two windows, each on the same wall facing the left side of the house. Toys were piled into corners and strewn across the floor. Sarah liked to play in here during the day because there was more floor space. The walls of the bedroom were a cream color, with tan curtains. The bottom sheets were white, with a black sheet to match and a large, blue blanket on top.

I stared out at the moon. Six hours. The police searched six hours for Mom. But they never found her. They issued a warrant for Gordon's arrest. They never found him, either. I was told that I was to stay here, at the Listings' house for the time being, and not to leave without someone knowing where I was.

“I don't wanna! Ugh!” Sarah's voice echoed around the hallway and through the open bedroom door as she stormed up the stairs, breaking my thoughts.

She stopped on the way to her room, peering in and giving me her big smile. “Goodnight, Tomi!” she called.

I smiled at her. “Goodnight, Sarah.”

“That's enough. Go to your room, Sarah,” Mrs. Listing said, her voice stern as she appeared in the doorway next to her daughter.

Sarah blew me a kiss and continued to head down the hall. Mrs. Listing watched her go, arms crossed over her chest. She sighed as Sarah's door closed, then slowly entered the room, coming to a stop next to the bed. She sat down gently.

“Are you going to be alright, Tom?” she asked me.

I could see the frown etched on her face, wrinkles lining her forehead. I nodded, trying to avoid her eyes. She rubbed my arm and kissed my head gently, giving me a small smile as she stood from the bed.

“Well, goodnight Tom. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Listing,” I said quietly as I watched her leave.