Ghost of You

The room was shattered with light and I whimpered, thrashing around, confused a bit as to where I was.

“Turn it out!” I cried. “Turn it out!”

The light was turned off abruptly and I laid face-down into the pillows, panting. I was sweating underneath the robe, my throat begging for water. I felt the side of the bed dip down, and a heavy hand on my back. It was Mr. Listing.

“Tom, hey. Easy.”

I rolled over onto my back, staring up at Mr. Listing, letting my hands fold together on my stomach. The towel that had been wrapped around my dreadlocks was gone, probably laying somewhere on the floor next to the bed. He reached over and pressed his palm to my forehead. I shut my eyes and tried to breathe.

“Easy. Are you okay?”

I whimpered a noise that somewhat resembled “yes”.

Mr. Listing sighed. “I'm glad.” He was quiet for a minute. “I wanted to come get you so bad, but the officers that arrived at the house, after they explained what happened, they said I had to stay here. I was worried sick.” He let out a nervous breath, trying to give me a reassuring smile but failing.

I looked away to the window as Mr. Listing grew quiet. It had stopped raining.

Mr. Listing looked over towards the window, then back down at me. “Anna made an early dinner if you're hungry.”

“I need to get dressed,” I sighed after a minute, struggling to push myself up. Mr. Listing leaned over and put a hand on the small of my back, helping me. “Thanks,” I said as he stood up.

“I'll meet you downstairs,” he said, shutting the door behind him.


“Hey.”

I flinched, almost tipping over. How long had I been leaning against the door frame for? I peered over into the kitchen, trying to blink away the white film that surrounded my vision. Mrs. Listing was at the sink washing the dinner plates.

Mr. Listing was standing in front of me, his mouth pulled down, almost a frown. “Why don't you go upstairs and rest? It's been a long day.”

I nodded, flicking my eyes over to the stairs. Georg and Sarah were making their way upstairs. Georg's eye caught mine as he went, and I shifted my gaze to the floor.

Mr. Listing sighed and placed his hand on my back, rubbing circles. I whimpered quietly and leaned my head back against the door frame, shutting my eyes.

“Maybe it's time you two make up, yeah?”

I huffed, air hissing through my nostrils.

“Listen Tom,” Mr. Listing began, “I don't know what exactly happened with the whole iPod situation...”

“I told you it wasn't my fault,” I muttered, the little bit of energy still in me slowly draining out.

“I know, I know.” Mr. Listing sighed again. “I just think we should put everything in the past, okay? A clean slate for all of us.”

I nodded my head and rubbed my eyes, letting a yawn pour out of me.

“Maybe you should take him upstairs to bed,” I heard Mrs. Listing say from the kitchen.

Mr. Listing nodded and wrapped his hand gently around my wrist. “C'mon,” he said, gingerly pulling me with him as he started up the stairs.