Haunt Me

Growing up, Peyton never would have expected to live within walking distance of her mother. It was refreshing to walk down the street of her home town, listening to the robins and sparrows sing. The cars passing by created a nice breeze every once in a while, if not leaving a puff of stench to make her eyes water. The evening was beautiful. She turned left off of Main Street onto Field Street, her mother's house was the very first on the road.

She stood at the end of the driveway, a red Buick flying past, making her dirty blonde hair fly in every direction. She tucked a strand behind her ear and began making her way up the concrete drive. It was like being a little kid again, walking home from school. The red shingles were looking a bit more worn now-a-days, though. The bricks were looking a bit faded, too. Of course, the garden was flourishing. Mother had always loved her plants. By the front door an old cherry blossom tree was green, having lost it's flowering since spring, but Peyton could still see the blue fabric that she'd tied on the highest branch so many years ago.

"Mom, I'm home!" Peyton closed the front door behind her. Taking off her jacket, she began to wander into the kitchen searching for her mother, who had not responded. "You know, you really should keep your front door locked. I know nothing ever happens around here, but a daughter worries."

She wasn't in the kitchen, but the lights was on and the stove was still burning. She turned the burner off and moved the pan over to cool down. Pasta had boiled to a multi-colored mush inside it's steel walls. "Mom?"

Peyton made her way into the living room, her heartbeat started picking up. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed her mother's number. Down the hallway We Both Reached For The Gun from Chicago sang. Her mother's ringtone.

She let the phone keep ringing and followed the song to her mother's bedroom. Hesitantly, Peyton opened the door. She took a sharp breath and turned on her heel. Just across the hall was her own old bedroom. She went inside, just as her mother's phone went to voice mail, and sat down on the autumn-themed comforter of the daybed. Numbly, Peyton dialed 911.

"What is the state of your emergency?" The operator waited for a reply. "Hello?"

Her voice caught in her throat, but finally Peyton managed to squeakily reply, "My name is Peyton Emmerson, I'm at 1974 Field Street... My mother is dead.

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After the police interviewed her, Peyton called Kenny to pick her up. She waited under the cherry blossom in the front yard, shivering despite the weather. A cold sweat dripped from her hairline, which she whipped away with the back of her hand. In a few days she would have to meet with her mother's lawyer to talk about the will.

Kenny's gery-blue Prius rolled up the driveway, maneuvering around two police cars. She didn't make an effort to stand from where she was sitting, but it didn't matter because Kenny was by her side faster than she could have. He smiled at her, taking her hands and hoisting her to her feet.

"What happened, Sweet Pea? You wild girls almost burn down the house trying to cook?" He laughed nervously, obviously not sure how serious the situation was.

"She's dead, Kenny."

"No... How-?" His eyes began to water. Over the years he and Mrs. Emmerson had grown very close. Kenny's own home life wasn't stable, so she made up where his mother lacked.

A police officer came out of the house, followed by two men carrying Peyton's dead mother on a gurney. Peyton buried her head in Kenny's shoulder, overcome, yet again, by tears. "You are?"

Kenny offered his hand to the officer, who took it. "My name is Kenneth, I'm Peyton's boyfriend."

"Perfect. I'll let her fill you in when she's ready, but for now I think it's best if you take her home."