Jinxed Things Ringing

Things were partially back to normal.

Brendon AKA Casper wouldn't knock things over, but instead would make sure that his presence was there. Damien would frown every time he felt that cold rush.

I thought it was incredible. It was a chilly sensation. But refreshing at the same time.

School had already started, but Damien and I weren't attending the first month because of our housing situation. In other terms, we were still helping clean the house.

We tried to hire maids and extra help, but it seemed like our home had a pretty lousy reputation. Nobody would even come near our street.

Wouldn't help either that there weren't any other homes on the street. Just ours and the end of the cul-de-sac.

"TV is coming in today," I smile plopping down on the couch of one of the smaller parlors. The family had an agreement to make it the family room.

"I haven't watched TV in years," Brendon said with a sigh.

I was silent for a moment.

"What?" Brendon inquired noticing my sudden silence. He reached out brushing his hand against my cheek- only for his fingers to disappear in a wispy smoke like stream.

I looked up at him, feeling the prikly icy sting on my face. Brendon would sometimes try to touch me affectionately. I knew he was lonely and it made me uncomfortable; but I also felt so sorry for him- that he couldn't feel.

We still hadn't figured out why when he grabbed me, he felt so solid. And when we kissed...

"How old are you?" I finally asked. Brendon frowned.

"I-... I don't know," He paused looking down at his hands.

His head snapped up suddenly and he vanished in a second. I looked behind me to see Damien entering the room.

My brother paused for a moment and narrowed his eyes.

"He was here...wasn't he?" Damien frowned. I nodded and turned back to sit comfortably. Damien joined me on the couch.

"Why does he only show himself to you?" Damien asked. I shrugged.

"You're not as pretty as me,"

"I can be pretty," Damien whined.

"We should probably go shopping for some supplies. We start school Monday.

Today was Thursday. Damien nodded.

"Let's go," he said standing up.

"Can I come?"

"Holy mother of fuck!" Damien gasped and jumped ten feet in the air. I laughed. He wasn't use to Brendon's random bursts of conversation. I found it amusing.

"Su-"

"No. You can't," Damien crossed his arms across his chest defiantly. I raised my eyebrows at him and laughed.

"Brendon, can you even leave the house?" I ask with a laugh.

It was silent for a minute.

"C'mon Jon," Damien rolled his eyes.

"Yes," Brendon finally said.

"Then why don't you?" I asked while being dragged by Damien.

It was silent again.

"Just let him come Dames," I sighed.

"Fine," Damien huffed. I smiled in the direction that Brendon's voice was heard.



"Why can't we find any decent store around here?!" Damien groaned.

"Da-" I said but he interrupted me.

"No Jon...let me continue. This town is so empty-" Damien sighed.

"Damien ther-" I tried to stop him.

"Jonny! How can you stand not having a mall in walking distance?! California was so...comfortable!" Damien rambled on.

I shrugged and entered the store we had stopped in front of.

"Is he always like that?" Brendon whispered to me. According to the sound of his voice, he was probably pressed up against me.

Sad thing was, I couldn't feel him.

"Unfortunately yes. He's still a little homesick. The weather is getting fierce here," I say.

"You're telling me. Well...actually you are. I can't feel anything," Brendon said with a saddened tone. My heart broke to hear him say that. I wanted to reach out to him so badly- but what could I do?

I picked up a basket at the entrance and started throwing random items that I would need.

From ahead I could see Damien pass the isle I was currently in, do a double take, and then walk right up to me.

"You could of told me the store said School Supplies," He glared.

"Who was I to interrupt?" I asked with a shrug. He shrugged back and walked past me, probably to talk to the cute girl at the counter.

I let Brendon whisper things in my ear- and no, not like those sort of things.

Get your head out of the gutter.

"Berry-tastic? Who names a highlighter that color?!"

"Get the post-it. Gethepost-its. GETTHEPOST-ITS,"

"But I like Dora! Don't judge that little boy just because he's Mexican,"

"KISS notebook? I'm sold. Buy that...Oh.My.God. Paul Stanley is totally mooning you!"

So far in my basket I have packets of bright blue highlighters, Four post-it packets, a Dora the Explorer back pack and two Kiss notebooks.

One was for Brendon.

After I bought enough Spongebob Square Pants erasers, I went up to the cash register.

"I'm not going to have enough money for this," I moaned, throwing my head back.

The bottom of my hair was tugged slightly, causing my head to lean back a bit further. I smiled and placed my items on the counter.

"Hi," The girl smiled. I smiled back.

"How's your day?" she asked. Small talk. This town is way too cliche.

"Fine, and yours?" I asked emptying the basket's contents as she rung them up.

"Not so good," She sighed dramatically. I rolled my eyes.

"Be nice," Brendon whispered in my ear. I smiled a little.

"Why not?" I painfully asked.

"Have you ever crushed on a guy, you know you shouldn't like?" she asked, finishing up the items. She gave me the receipt and I took out my wallet.

"No, not really," I stated.

"Well I am," she sighed, once again over dramatically. I reached over grabbing the bag. She nonchalantly didn't.let.go. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"What if I fall for him but doesn't like me?"

"You'll find someone else,"

"What if there is no one else?"

"Then you'll buy some cats,"

And with that I snatched my bag and left the store. I walked a block down before stopping.

"Brendon?" I asked suddenly.

Laughter. Not just any laughter. Hysterical cackling.

"Bren?" I hesitantly asked.

"You.are.too.much!" He gasped, even though I couldn't see him.

"I forgot Damien," I muttered. "I sure as hell am not going back in there!" I stated defiantly.

"I'll go," Brendon says.

"Don't scare him too bad," I call out, but not sure if he's still there.

"No promises," I hear coming a ways down sidewalk. I smile and wait.



"Don't ever get your...thing..to come and get me...ever again," Damien muttered as he approached me. I felt the common chill on my arm. I smiled.

"I wasn't aware I had a thing," I smirked.

"Did I take too long?" Brendon asked hesitantly. All three of us started walking back.

"While I was waiting there was nothing to do except feed gummy bears to the bomb-sniffing dogs which, apparently, the United States government frowns upon," I sigh.

"You got in trouble with the government while you were waiting for me?" Brendon asked.

"Just a little," I shrug.

"How much is a little?" Damien inquired.

"Learn Russian,"

We arrived home and I was softly packing my things into my Dora the Explorer bag which was three times too small for me.

"He's so cute," Brendon gushed while he was laying on my bed.

"She's not a legal resident of these states," I say packing my notebook in my bag.

"He's a she?!" Brendon shrieked.

"And trying to get our American legal born children to speak her homeland language. Probably trying to convert California into Mexico," I reply in monotone going back and forth fitting small things into the bag.

"This is ridiculous! She's a he!" Brendon sobbed.

"I can't blame you. With that haircut. Her shirt doesn't even fit her," I add.

"Oh Dora...how could I have foreseen this?! Your name was quite...peculiar...but I thought it was ethnic!" Brendon moaned.

"I'm going downstairs," I rolled my eyes and added a chuckle.

I went into the parlor, where Damien was stretched out on a couch, phone to his ear.

I raised my eyebrow. "Who are you talking to?" I asked him.

"I don't know," He shrugged. "Some telemarketer,"

I sat next to him, pressing my ear against the other side of the phone, listening to him talk.

"I was in France during the Big One!" Damien exclaimed.

"Oh that's nice. So-" a man with a French accent replied.

"Nice? It was a war. What's nice about that?"

"Of course. So you'd be interested-"

"Don't give me that attitude, Frenchy. You'd be speaking German now if it wasn't for me!" Damien exclaimed and hung up the phone.

"The nerve of that man!" Damien exclaimed crossing his arms. I laughed.

"When is dinner ready?" I asked him.

"Do I look like a timer?" Damien snorted.

"I thought you might have one set. The pizza doesn't have the capacity to sing a song when it's ready," I laugh.

"Silly pizza," Damien giggles.

"Times are for rabbits!" I say and we go into the kitchen.

"There's a party Saturday," Damien says, seating himself at the long dinner table.

"Cool, maybe I'll come," I shrug bringing the pizza out. Damien grabs a slice.

"You don't want to go. It's not you," Damien says in shock.

"I have multiple personalities, it might be one of me," I state informing him.

"Party?"

"Jeez! Wear a bell!" Damien drops his pizza on his plate. One of the chairs shifts back.

I laugh. Brendon slowly lets himself appear.

Damien's eyes widen.

"So you are human," Damien mutters.

"No shit Damien," I say.

"Well...he could be a entity. Those don't really take forms," Damien says.

"Then he wouldn't be able to form coherent and complete sentences," I bite into my pizza.

"Only on Thursdays," Brendon says propping his head on his hand.

"You don't want to know what he does on Fridays," I giggle.

"It involves glitter, I'll tell you that much," Brendon tilts his head. Damien chuckles.

"This is a felony, you know. Corrupting a minor. We'll all end up in the pokie," Damien says.

"He's right. You're both going into the pokie," I nod.

"Hun, don't say pokie. It's creepy. Minor?" Brendon asks.

"Yeah. She's only 16," Damien says as if the most obvious thing in the world, through his mouthful of pizza.

Brendon looks nervously at me. I shrug.

"It's not that big of a deal, calm down," Damien says to Brendon.

"He knows?" Brendon looks shocked.

"Would this be considered necrophilia?" I ask to myself, while Brendon is freaking out, and Damien trying to calm him down.

"Your brother knows," Brendon says to himself, the intention to hear himself talk.

"He's probably old too, you know," Damien says to me with a wince.

"Hey! I'm not...that...old..." Brendon slowly said. "What...uhm...year is..may I ask?"

"2029," Damien says. Brendon does the math in his head and then freezes. His head drops onto the table with a thud.

"How old are you?" I ask amused. My smile never ceasing to stop growing. What ever his age must have been; it would still be humorous to me.

"42...isn't that old," Brendon says lifting his head.

Damien's eyes widen at the same time mine does. We both laugh hysterically.

"Shuttup," Brendon mummers. "Hey, why are you laughing!" Brendon directs his tone to me. "If anything, you should be embarrassed...or disgusted!"

"In this situation Bren, everything is funny," I giggled. "Plus, it's not like it meant anything. You're dead,"

Brendon freezes. The room becomes tense.

"Look....I didn't mean it that way. It just came out-" I stammer.

"It's fine. NO....really. It is. I need to get over it...it's been 20 years," Brendon shrugs.

That was the first time Brendon mentioned anything about his death.

I stand up and walk to Brendon's chair. He stands up as well sensing that I would probably want him to.

I lean my face up to his and let my lips move towards his cheek. I close my eyes and wait for the sting of ice...but I don't.

I felt his skin. I press my lips a little more onto his face letting the kiss on his cheek settle. I pull back and Brendon looks just as shocked as me.

"God..." Damien breaks the silence. "That was the sexiest pedophilic moment I've ever witnessed,"