Haunt

If it had been any other day he would have found the circumstances surrounding it suspicious. He had misplaced his keys twice, forgotten where he had put his sunglasses, and took a wrong turn while he was changing the radio station. He ignored it all, chalking it up to something random floating around in the air.

If he had only known.

She had been gone for song long by that point, but he somehow still remembered every small detail about her. They way she smelt, the way her hands shook, more specifically her pinky finger, when she was angry. It was sickening that he had loved her enough at one time in his life to pay attention to those things.

Louisiana had always been a mystery, just a girl living down the street from his best mate's. Ana Sharp, he hadn't heard her name in years.

The house was unusually quiet, his mum looking around rather suspiciously when he walked into the room. He was meant to meet her for lunch, but was only five minutes late, even after all of his misfortunes. She couldn't be upset about that, could she? He thought, shaking his head before he spoke.

"Sorry i'm late mum," he apologized, kissing her cheek. "Are you okay, is something wrong?" He laughed, looking at her sullen face. "Did someone die?"

The playful quip wasn't met with a reaction that he was expecting, instead she cringed rather visibly.

He kneeled down in front of her, his mind racing over every member of his family or circle of friends, coming up with nobody. He would have known if someone was sick.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" He asked rather sternly.

"You may want to sit down love," she said quickly, painfully expressing how nervous she was.

Shaking his head, he motioned for her to continue. He had already been late enough for lunch, dragging this out was wasting more time than it needed. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with his mother, he just had somewhere to be later.

"Liam, Mrs. Sharp died. Louisiana's nan," she blurted out, bringing her hand up to her mouth as if she had said the wrong thing.

It felt like she had ripped off a bandage though, the pain quick but fleeting. He looked at her oddly, not sure how else he should feel. He had known Mrs. Sharp as the nice old lady from down the road, dated her granddaughter, but they weren't that close.

"Uh, well that sucks," he managed to get out, feeling the sting from his harsh reaction bite him.

His mother looked at him as if he were completely mental, like three more heads had sprouted from his neck. "Liam, Ana's in town to sort out her nan's affairs...for the funeral." She said it as if it should have been obvious, her worry palpitating so visibly.

He should have put that together, he scolded himself, but it had been ages.

The sound of her name sent a pathetic chill down his spine both time his mother had said it. He shouldn't have cared, or been worried himself, but he was.

Pulling his mobile out of his jean pocket after he had left his mum's, he sent a text message to his girlfriend. He apologized but said he needed to change their plans, something had come up, it was nothing to worry about and he would ring her later.

He didn't even have to think about it, it was a no brainer going to Mrs. Sharp's house. How he knew she would be there wasn't rocket science either, ghosts always ended up in the same place.

He took a deep breath when he reached the familiar door, glancing around the street before he knocked. He was still looking out at the houses and pavement, visions of them riding bikes down the road, or them sneaking between houses to kiss playing out in front of him, when she answered the door.

"Wow," she said surprised, causing him to spin around.

She had changed so much since her time away, a collection of tattoos filling up one arm, from hand to shoulder, while the other was only halfway done. He could see colours radiating off of her chest and neck from over the faded v-neck t-shirt, glancing down in that moment to check her bare legs. They had a few tattoos too, and so did the tops of her feet.

That part stunned him, but what stunned him even more was how the rest of her seemed to stay stagnant. Her features were exactly the same, her light brown hair in a more current style but virtually unchanged. She was wearing no make-up, which was how he always loved her, but she wasn't sad. He found that odd, not having time to dwell on it.

"Well?" Her impatient voice broke through his thoughts.

"What was that?"

"I said, since you're here do you want to come in for a cup of tea?"

"Oh, yeah sure, thanks."

She pulled the door open further, moving to the side to allow him access to the old house. It had also virtually gone unchanged, except for the erie silence enveloping the confines of the four walls.

He followed her into the kitchen, sitting down after she motioned towards the table, the only spot clear of clutter.

"Sorry everything's a mess, we've just gotten started and…" Clearing her throat to stop herself mid sentence, she pulled two cups down from the cupboard, turning the kettle on without another word.

This was how it began, casual, two old friends catching up after a tragedy. How it would end, with him storming out...if only he had known.

He wouldn't have come if he had, he would have just stuck to his plans. But she was like a black hole, sucking him in and spitting him out in another dimension.