Status: Currently on hold.
Ghosts in the Snow
Chapter Two
The rest of the walk home was conversationless. Mike and I shared a glance as we entered the three bedroom doublewide. It was actually a four bedroom, but dad used one of the rooms for his 'office' The truck wasn't here, so I assumed dad was still at work. As we walked in, mom gave me a quick smile. I ignored it and headed straight for my room. I locked the door (as I always do) and dumped the contents of my backpack onto my bed.
I stared at the picture. A man with dark brown hair a little shorter than mine, and vibrant green eyes that are, so beautiful... He was smiling, at me. The background was a field of green grass with a lake in the upperhand corner. I know that place... That's the pasture we cross everyday.
"Victor, dinner time!" My mother shouted. I growled. We're having dinner early? I glanced at my clock, 6:00 P.M. Damn... Two hours flew by fast.
As I walked in the dinning room, Mike gave me a confused look. "What?" I asked sounding slightly annoyed. I yelled at myself in my head for showing any sign of aggrivation towards my brother. The little things bothered him so much.
"You took the picture?" Mike asked, shifting his eyes from mine to my hand. I looked down. Shit, I still had it in my hand.
Thinking of something quick to say, I came up with, "Uh yeah, I mean it wasn't damaged and whoever lived in that house would probably appreciate if we returned it to them,"
"But how will we even find out who lived there?" Mike's logic skills lacked a lot.
"There was a fire, Mike. It will end up in the paper probably by tomorrow. Then, we can find out," I really need to watch what I say. Now mom and dad are gonna make me return it.
Mom was silent the whole time. Dad walked in the room. I didn't even hear his truck pull in the drive way. Was I that lost in thought? "I heard about the fire today. I think that's a great idea to return the picture frame," mother had her share of the conversation. Dad just shrugged, grabbed a plate of brisket, and went back to his office.
I didn't have an appetite. "Mom do you know this guy?" I gently placed the frame on the kitchen island. She pursed her lips with a quick, "no"
I snuck away to my room with no intention of even acting like I was gonna eat. It didn't matter, they wouldn't have noticed anyways.
~~~
I layed in my twin sized bed, the cold air breezing through the silky blinds. I turn my lamp to reveal the fasinating picture. So beautiful... I closed my eyes and heard soft whispering, "Vic..."
I opened my eyes, no one was there. I rushed to my window, but there wasn't anyone there either. I shut the window tight and locked it. I covered every inch of the window with the blinds, so there was no possible chance even a fraction of an inch of light could seep through. I was scared now...
I lunged toward my bed fast, I didn't want my feet anywhere near under the bed. I have fears. They get the better of me everytime... And I hate it! I covered my whole body with my favorite blanket. My great aunt made it for me when I was three. She said it kept the bad things away. Amazing how I've had this thing for thirteen years...
My eyes watered up. Aunt Marina died six years ago. Was that her calling my name? No, it couldn't have been. Mom always said ghosts didn't exist, but maybe she was wrong. Correction: mom was always wrong.
I peeked a hand out of the blanket and grabbed the picture frame. I clinged to the frame, my chest started to hurt from the pressure I was putting on it. But this wasn't like the horrible anxiety pain I usually had. This was comforting.
I stared at the picture. A man with dark brown hair a little shorter than mine, and vibrant green eyes that are, so beautiful... He was smiling, at me. The background was a field of green grass with a lake in the upperhand corner. I know that place... That's the pasture we cross everyday.
"Victor, dinner time!" My mother shouted. I growled. We're having dinner early? I glanced at my clock, 6:00 P.M. Damn... Two hours flew by fast.
As I walked in the dinning room, Mike gave me a confused look. "What?" I asked sounding slightly annoyed. I yelled at myself in my head for showing any sign of aggrivation towards my brother. The little things bothered him so much.
"You took the picture?" Mike asked, shifting his eyes from mine to my hand. I looked down. Shit, I still had it in my hand.
Thinking of something quick to say, I came up with, "Uh yeah, I mean it wasn't damaged and whoever lived in that house would probably appreciate if we returned it to them,"
"But how will we even find out who lived there?" Mike's logic skills lacked a lot.
"There was a fire, Mike. It will end up in the paper probably by tomorrow. Then, we can find out," I really need to watch what I say. Now mom and dad are gonna make me return it.
Mom was silent the whole time. Dad walked in the room. I didn't even hear his truck pull in the drive way. Was I that lost in thought? "I heard about the fire today. I think that's a great idea to return the picture frame," mother had her share of the conversation. Dad just shrugged, grabbed a plate of brisket, and went back to his office.
I didn't have an appetite. "Mom do you know this guy?" I gently placed the frame on the kitchen island. She pursed her lips with a quick, "no"
I snuck away to my room with no intention of even acting like I was gonna eat. It didn't matter, they wouldn't have noticed anyways.
~~~
I layed in my twin sized bed, the cold air breezing through the silky blinds. I turn my lamp to reveal the fasinating picture. So beautiful... I closed my eyes and heard soft whispering, "Vic..."
I opened my eyes, no one was there. I rushed to my window, but there wasn't anyone there either. I shut the window tight and locked it. I covered every inch of the window with the blinds, so there was no possible chance even a fraction of an inch of light could seep through. I was scared now...
I lunged toward my bed fast, I didn't want my feet anywhere near under the bed. I have fears. They get the better of me everytime... And I hate it! I covered my whole body with my favorite blanket. My great aunt made it for me when I was three. She said it kept the bad things away. Amazing how I've had this thing for thirteen years...
My eyes watered up. Aunt Marina died six years ago. Was that her calling my name? No, it couldn't have been. Mom always said ghosts didn't exist, but maybe she was wrong. Correction: mom was always wrong.
I peeked a hand out of the blanket and grabbed the picture frame. I clinged to the frame, my chest started to hurt from the pressure I was putting on it. But this wasn't like the horrible anxiety pain I usually had. This was comforting.