Cross My Heart — a spooky ghost story
A short fiction to read on Halloween
The Owen estate was nestled in the center of the high-end part of town. Where kids had backyards big enough to play soccer in, and usually their own swimming pool as well. The mansion Chad called a home was pure opulence. My family wasn’t poor by any means, but I was pretty sure the chandelier we passed in the foyer was more expensive than our whole house.
“Ladies, come in, come in!” A boy that came up to my shoulder ushered us towards the massive living room. He looked like a freshman or somebody’s little brother. Either way, he was more than happy to eye us up, licking his lips.
“In your dreams,” Jennifer muttered, shoving him away from us and taking my hand. The retro hip-hop music blasted my eardrums as we cut through the sea of bodies. Some of the costumes were surreal; I saw a mermaid whose scales were so lifelike, it grossed me out. Another boy was dressed as the dead bunny guy from Donny Darko, complete with all the gory details. The girl that sat behind me in Biology was showing more skin than Jennifer, which was hard to believe. She’d decided to be a slutty black cat, and her black hair covered more of her body than her outfit.
I was wearing an off-the-shoulder angel dress that accentuated all the right curves, golden wings and a plastic halo. It was teasingly ironic, considering what I was going to let my boyfriend do to me when I found him. We ducked into the bathroom so Jennifer could tidy up my elaborate updo and finish the look with sparkly gold eyeshadow to match my wings. I applied the prettiest light pink lipstick in the world and thought of how I’d feel tomorrow. My first day as a woman.
“You’re really going through with it?” Jennifer asked, looking at me through the mirror.
“Tommy’s waited long enough,” I shrugged. I noticed her roll her eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“I just don’t get it,” she said. “Tommy’s amazing. I wouldn’t think twice.”
“You’re right,” I laughed, “Which is why I’m going to do it.”
A bittersweet smile appeared on her face, and I instantly regretted my response. She’d only broken up with her boyfriend a month ago.
“You going to be okay?” I asked.
“Of course!” She smiled, and any trace of sadness vanished. “I’m sure I’ll find someone to hook up with.”
“That outfit will certainly help,” I said, even though I knew she was joking.
“Says the girl who’s losing her virginity.” She punched my arm playfully. “Don’t worry. I’ll be having fun tonight.”
Tommy and I had been together for two years, since we were Freshman. When he became quarterback of the football team, and I was named cheer captain, we were like the perfect couple. Perfect except for one small thing: couples were supposed to have sex. At least, that’s what Tommy thought. I told him I wasn’t ready, and he’d been patiently waiting. My sixteenth birthday passed. We finished Sophomore year and had an epic fourth of July party over the summer — my parents weren’t even home. The Homecoming dance was magical, and I let Tommy run his palm up under my dress. It felt good, but I didn’t let him get any further. Every event would have been an ideal time to lose my virginity, but still I waited. I’m not exactly sure why. I knew Tommy loved me, and I knew he was getting frustrated.
“Everyone already thinks we’re hooking up,” he’d say. “So what’s the big deal? It’s not like it’s some party fling. We’re together. Everybody knows it.” He wasn’t pressuring me, I knew he’d wait if I asked him to. He just wanted to understand why. And I didn’t have an answer to give him.
So I made the decision: Halloween would be the night. Chad Owen, one of the popular jocks on the football team, was throwing a big party. I’d be dressed up and feeling sexy. My first time would be special. Now that it was actually here, I felt a rising panic, but I was determined to go through with it. I just wanted to get it over with. I knew Tommy would be gentle, and patient — even if I didn’t know exactly what to do.
After checking the living room and kitchen, I still hadn’t found Tommy. It was only when I heard a huge splash from the backyard pool that we went outside. Someone had just jumped from the second floor bedroom window into the pool. Kids were cheering and clapping as Tommy exited the pool, his body glistening in the moonlight. I got a glimpse of his perfectly chiseled abs before he slipped into a black tank top. It was too cold to be in the pool this time of year, even if it was heated. Probably a dare from one of his bonehead teammates
I ran to meet him, as fast as I could in my sparkly gold heels.
“Where’s your costume?” I asked.
Tommy grabbed a red hat from a nearby chair and put it on. Plastic devil horns attached to the hat stuck out on each side of his head.
“What do you think?” he asked.
I couldn’t help but smile at his boyish grin. Even though it wasn’t much of a costume, he’d clearly chosen to coordinate it with mine. It made it obvious that we were together. A matching set.
“I love it!” I said.
I gave him a quick kiss on the lips. I’d learned not to do much more with his friends around, if I didn’t want whistles and cat calls. He was about to hug me when I stopped him.
“You’re all wet!” I said, pushing him back with a hand against his chest.
He leaned in and whispered, “Don’t you want to be, too?”
Then he scooped me up in his arms. I screamed at his cold skin against mine, but then laughed.
“As a matter of fact,” I breathed into his ear, “yes.”
His eyes searched mine, trying to figure out if I was joking.
I held his gaze without blinking. “I think I’m ready now,” I said.
Then he kissed me, long and slow.
“Ahem,” Jennifer said, interrupting. She smiled awkwardly, holding a couple of drinks.
“You’ve got to have at least one drink first!” she said, waving one of the fruity concoctions at me.
“Good idea,” Tommy agreed, setting me back down.
“Maybe just a sip,” I said, taking the cup. I wasn’t much of a drinker. Both Jennifer and Tommy knew this, after I sang three Britney Spears songs at the last party, which happened to not have any karaoke whatsoever.
“Don’t be silly, I’m not leaving until you drink the whole glass,” Jennifer said. “Trust me, it’ll help you relax.”
I sniffed the beverage and took a tentative sip, afraid she’d tripled the booze content like she had last time. It was quite strong, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. But the alcohol was mostly masked by the sweetness of fruit juice and soda.
“How much alcohol is in this?” I asked.
“Enough to do the job,” Jennifer said, smiling wickedly. The guys around the pool laughed, encouraging me to chug it.
At my hesitation to drink any more, she leaned over and whispered, “I thought it would help with, you know, your nervousness.”
I smiled at her. Always looking out for me. “Thanks, Jennifer.”
“No problem, you’re going to do great,” she whispered back, then yelled, “Now, drink up Angel!”
Amidst a chorus of cheers, I downed the drink.
Tommy wrapped his arms around me.
“Why don’t we go somewhere a little more… private.”
He led me down a winding path beyond the pool. I smiled at the little candles adorning the path, a sweet romantic gesture. Tucked away in a quiet corner was the guest house, a cozy little two-bedroom cottage. Tommy wasted no time and took me directly to the main bedroom. It had a separate sitting area with a vintage chaise lounge, loveseat, and coffee table. And then the bed — it was almost like something out of a princess movie. A king-sized bed incased in a sheer canopy, with an insane amount of neatly arranged pillows at the head and rose petals scattered all around. If ever there was a perfect room to lose your virginity in, this was it.
“Oh, Tommy, it’s gorgeous!” I clapped my hands together in delight.
“Not half as gorgeous as you,” he said, and this time, he kissed me for real.
The next thing I remember was waking up in my own bed, to the obnoxious sound of my alarm clock. I fumbled for it but it wouldn’t shut up. When I looked closer at the date, my eyes widened. How was it Monday already?
The party was Saturday night, but I couldn’t remember anything past when Tommy took me into the guesthouse. Shit, had I passed out before anything could happen? If so, Tommy was going to be pissed. The alternative wasn’t any better. What if we had done it, and I just couldn’t remember? The most important night of my life, and I’d blacked out. I silently cursed Jennifer for handing me the drink, but I knew it was my own fault. I should have known my limits. I should have kept my head clear.
But Tommy wouldn’t have done that to me… and I didn’t feel any different. Actually, I didn’t really feel anything. I should have had a hangover or a headache at least. But I did sleep through an entire day. I dreaded going back to school, in case I’d done anything embarrassing at the party, but I also needed answers. Tommy or Jennifer would be able to clue me in. I’d just have to lie and pretend I wasn’t too drunk to remember my first time.
I brushed my teeth, got dressed, and shoved my long red hair into a ponytail. I cringed when I saw Mom and Dad waiting in the kitchen. I’d been hoping to avoid a lecture. I couldn’t believe they let me sleep through Sunday. It gave them a lot of time to dream up a suitable punishment — I’d probably be grounded for a month. I hoped Jennifer was the one who brought me home. My parents knew I was dating Tommy; he’d been over for dinner a few times. But that was different from showing up with me blind drunk in the middle of the night.
I was expecting my mom to bring out her catchphrase, “Life is all about choices, good or bad.” But they were quiet, which was somehow worse. Dad was just staring at the table. No newspaper, no complaining about the new president or swiping through messages on his phone. Mom was at the refrigerator. I thought she was getting something, but she seemed frozen, with her hand on the handle. Her gaze was focused on the pictures taped to the fridge, a series of family shots taken throughout the last few years. My homecoming picture was there too — I was all smiles in a lilac dress and sparkling tiara.
They were definitely acting weird. They must be really disappointed in me. But I could charm them back. I just had to swear off alcohol forever, which I was already planning to do.
“So… I’m, uh, late for school… I’ll just get breakfast there. Love you!” I kissed my Dad on the forehead and waved at them on my way out. I expected them to chase me down the driveway, but once outside the air was so calm I could hear birds chirping from the tall pine trees surrounding our house. I’d escaped without a single reprimand. I should have been relieved, but I felt a rising sense of guilt, tinged with panic. Silence was definitely worse than screaming. I may have to avoid them the whole week.
Walking to school was no big deal, since it was only ten minutes away. My neighbors were usually pretty friendly. They’d wave and say hello at least. But today everybody kept their heads down, like they were afraid to make eye contact. Maybe it was just the cold, gray mist that had moved in overnight. I saw Mrs. Miller shudder as I walked by and pull her shawl tighter around her neck. When I was halfway to school, Jennifer and her mother drove past. I waved to them, hoping they’d give me a ride, and I saw Jennifer’s unfocused eyes pass over me. She must have seen me, but the car didn’t slow down. For the first time I felt a tinge of fear. Was she mad at me for some reason? What happened at the party?
My day didn’t get any better once I made it to school. Tommy was nowhere to be found and class was horrible. I hadn’t done any homework, so every time the teacher asked us to hand in an assignment, I slouched in my seat, trying to be invisible. I could do it later and turn it in late. By some miracle it worked — none of my teachers called me on it.
In the halls, everyone seemed unusually distant. Usually I’d get at least ten hugs a day from friends or members of the cheer squad. Today it was like people were trying to avoid me. What was just a suspicion grew into a solid theory: I must have done something terrible at the party, and now nobody wanted to be seen with me. Maybe I threw up all over someone, or even shit my pants. Blood rushed to my ears thinking about the possibilities. What if Tommy broke up with me, or I was kicked off the cheer squad? They had to keep up their standards. If I was sudden the laughingstock of the school, they wouldn’t want me representing them.
I sat by myself at lunch. I still hadn’t seen Tommy, and though I knew Jennifer was at school, she wasn’t at our usual table. I fingered the heart shaped locket around my neck. Tommy had given it to me last Valentine’s day. I tried to open it, so I could console myself with the inscription inside, but the latch was stuck. That’s when I noticed the new kid. At least, I think he was new. Long, dark hair, black clothes, a little bit emo. He was openly staring at me from across the lunch room. Creepy. Great, the first person to acknowledge me today was a goth freak? Being with Tommy usually meant other guys left me alone. Guess he hadn’t gotten the memo.
I looked away, not wanting to encourage him. My gaze settled on the opposite corner of the lunchroom, where the band nerds usually sat. Nestled amongst them was Jennifer, and she wasn’t alone. Tommy sat uncomfortably close to her, rubbing her back.
I couldn’t control the gaping expression on my face. It was a solid minute before I closed my mouth. My best friend and my boyfriend? If I were watching a movie I would be ridiculing the heroine for being so naïve, but this was real life. This couldn’t be happening. There had to be an explanation. Looking closer, I realized the way they were interaction was more supportive than sensual. I watched from across the room as Tommy wiped a tear from her cheek. Maybe something tragic had happened, and I just hadn’t heard the news yet. Jennifer would never betray me like that with Tommy. I decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, for now.
Before I had a chance to confront them, the bell rang. As the cafeteria emptied out, I felt a chill run down my spine and turned to find the creepy emo dude staring at me. I held his gaze, first out of spite, then out of curiosity. He never even blinked, and it looked like he was in no rush to get to class. What was it with this guy?
After my very frustrating morning, I was relieved to get to my next class. Home economics at our school had become a glorified craft room where we worked on independent projects using the tools available — mostly involving clothes and fashion design. I had just finished the cutest little black dress, and I was dying to show it off to my classmates. But when I got there, the mood was somber. A couple of girls were actually crying. I approached my teacher in the front of the room, but before I could even ask to show her my dress, she turned away from me and stared at the door, like she was waiting for someone else to come in. Then she took a deep sigh, straightened her shoulders and addressed the room.
“I know how you all must be feeling today. Keep working on your projects, or if you’re not feeling it today, just stay at your desks quietly. Let me know if you want to talk to a counselor.”
I went to the closet that held my dress project, but before I could retrieve it, a tall girl with dark hair took it out gently.
“Wow, it’s gorgeous,” she said.
“So talented,” her friend agreed, nodding her head. “What a waste. Do you think Mrs. Bates will let us finish it?”
“Excuse me?” I cut in. “Nobody is finishing that dress but me. Glad you like it though.”
Like everyone else at school, the girls ignored me. Enough, already! Whatever I did at the party couldn’t have been that bad. I was about to yank the dress away, when the girl placed it back in the closet.
I stomped back to my desk, planning to distract myself with a new project I’d been thinking about — an off-the-shoulder blouse. But when I asked the girl next me if I could borrow a pencil, she totally pretended not to hear me. So I just crossed my arms, seething and waiting for the bell.
When school was finally over I was ready to tear my hair out. This was the worst day ever, and I still didn’t even know why. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Jennifer on her way to cheerleading practice.
“Hey, what’s up?” I said, falling into step beside her. “I’ve had such a shitty day, everyone’s been so…” I stopped talking when I realized she wasn’t listening.
“Jennifer, are you mad at me or something?”
She just kept walking. Not a single word.
Fine, be that way. We walked into the gym together. A black spot caught my eye — it was the emo guy again, sitting on the empty bleachers like he’d been waiting for us. Was he following me? I had enough problems today without dealing with a goth stalker. I was sure our coach would kick him out, since we didn’t allow people to watch our practices. The expression on his face was so serious, it made my stomach twist into knots.
Coach Becca blew the whistle and motioned everyone to gather together in the center of the gym. She wore a pained expression, but it seemed to be more in anger and disappointment than sadness. A few of the girls had red eyes. What was going on today? Usually the squad was pumped at the beginning of practice.
“I feel like I have to acknowledge the loss on our team. I know some of you are still sad, despite the circumstances of this senseless tragedy. Your new captain,” Coach Becca said, taking a deep breath, “will be Jennifer White.”
I felt like I’d just been punched in the gut. What the fuck? How did that happen?
A bittersweet smile crossed Jennifer’s face, but she bit her lip like she was ashamed of it. A few of the girls hugged her or patted her shoulder in congratulations.
“Hello, everyone?” I said, waving my hands. “Real team captain here?” I pointed at myself. When they ignored me, my face flushed scarlet in anger. I was done being ignored. I stomped over to the coach, clenching my fists by my side.
“What’s the deal?” I yelled. “I’m captain, not Jennifer!”
The coach coughed and stared down at her clipboard. I watched her take in a breath, and I thought she was going to say something. But then she looked past me to the squad.
“Let’s go over the half-time routine. Jennifer, you take lead.”
I screamed in frustration, right when the music came on. The heavy beat of the pop song silenced my protests. Why was everyone just going along with this? I ran over to confront Jennifer as she moved into position.
“What gives, Jenn?” I said, baiting her to react. “First you move in on my boyfriend, then the squad?”
Jennifer looked down, fidgeting with the edge of her skirt. It was a nervous tick she’d done for years.
“You really think you can replace me?” I smirked, trying to play it cool, but the other girls cut between us as they started the routine, moving into position for the first throw. I stumbled to the sidelines, next to the table where the coach sat with her assistants. I slammed my fists on the table.
“I won’t stand for this,” I growled.
The coach looked past me, concentrating on the girls, critiquing them in her mind as they lifted Jennifer into the air. The rage built up inside of me, as I watched Jennifer push off the girls to do a flip-twist combo — a move I had perfected. A move I should be doing. I screamed, and with a burst of energy, I grabbed hold of the edge of the table and knocked it on its side.
The boom of the crashing table cut through the music like a gunshot, startling everyone. The coach and her assistants scrambled away, looking thoroughly freaked out. The girls had instinctively turned towards the noise. I smiled, happy to finally be noticed. And then I heard a sickening crunch, like a melon being smashed, followed by a collective gasp.
Just behind the group of girls, in the center of the gym, Jennifer’s broken body was lying in a pool of blood. I’d distracted them at precisely the wrong moment, and they hadn’t caught her. A sob tore out of my throat. What had I done?
I ran to her side and clenched her hand. A single drop of crimson blood was on her cheek. Her aqua blue eyes met mine, and she seemed to see me for the first time all day.
“Megan,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”
My lips parted. There were so many things I wanted to say, so many things that needed to be said. But the words never came. I watched in silence as the life left her body. I felt someone’s eyes on me and turned to find the dark haired boy’s relentless gaze. A chill ran down my spine when I saw the smirk on his lips. He raised his arm slowly, then made a “cross my heart” gesture, moving his fingers in the shape of an X across his torso. It reminded me of something Jenn and I did when we were kids. We’d promised to be best friends forever. But forever was shorter than we expected.
I watched the flashing lights come and go. First the ambulance. Then the police. I stayed until the janitor got out the mop bucket and splashed sudsy water across the floorboards, trying to remove the stain of Jenn’s blood before the next homegame. Then I went home. I didn’t try talking to anyone else. After what happened, I felt my voice was broken somehow. Like I’d forgotten how to form words.
My parents were sitting with my sister in the living room. That was strange in itself, because my family were rarely all in the same room at the same time. Ashley was in middle school, and always busy with one activity or another. Mom volunteered at the homeless shelter practically every night, and Dad was usually at work late or tinkering with his classic car in the garage. It took me a second to notice how quiet it was. They weren’t even watching TV or anything. It was like this morning, only a thousand times stranger because Ashley was there. My parents were probably still upset at me for getting drunk and sleeping through Sunday, but Ashley was the queen of conversation. When she ran out of stuff to say, she would make things up to keep going. I don’t think I’d ever seen her just sit there with her mouth closed.
Did they hear about Jennifer already? Someone could have called and told them. Maybe this was an intervention, and they were waiting to talk to me, so I could share my feelings. There was no way I was ready for that. I stood at the edge of the room, fidgeting with the locket around my neck. I tried to open the latch again, but it still wouldn’t budge.
I waited for Dad to invite me to sit down, but he never even noticed I was there. The silence was stressing me out. If they weren’t gong to make me join their family meeting, I wasn’t going to complain. On the other hand, the longer I was ignored, the more I wanted to be seen. She was my friend, after all. I’m the one who should be broken up inside. I think I was still in shock or something. I felt a deep, aching sadness, but I wasn’t hysterical.
“I’m just going to go to bed,” I announced, yawning. “Whatever this is, can we do it tomorrow? I just can’t right now.” I left the room before anyone could object, but I didn’t feel like it was a victory. The truth was, I wanted to talk to someone, and I still had no idea what was going on. Things were already fucked up before this afternoon, and then Jennifer died right next to me. It didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be real. I wanted to cry and curl up in my mom’s lap, but instead I wrapped myself in my blankets. This morning I’d been worried about whether I’d embarrassed myself at the party on Saturday, or whether my relationship with Tommy was still intact. All that seemed trivial now.
Tommy! I hadn’t thought about him since lunch earlier, but now I missed him terribly. We hadn’t gone a full day without speaking or texting for months. He’d know how I was feeling, and he could tell me what happened at the party. And if we didn’t have sex at the party… maybe we could still do it tonight. I blushed at the thought, but I didn’t push it away. I was ready this weekend, after waiting so long. And then, Jennifer. Life was too short for waiting.
I couldn’t find my phone to call him, so I walked to his house and rang the doorbell. No answer. I peered into the large bay window. His father poked at the logs in the fireplace, trying in vain to rekindle the flames.
“Um, hello?” I called loudly, tapping on the window.
Tommy’s car was parked in the driveway. I figured he was probably in his room, so I crept to the side of the house and peeked through his bedroom window. Tommy was on his bed, holding his phone. His eyes were red from crying. I felt a twinge of guilt; he seemed to be taking Jennifer’s death even harder than I was. I never knew they were so close, she was my friend after all. He wiped a tear away, and pressed the replay button on his phone. I heard Jennifer’s voice through the pane of glass, and realized it was a phone message.
I couldn’t hear most of it, but I caught one phrase. “We can’t tell Megan.” Then Tommy dropped the phone and covered his head with his hands. The speaker was covered by carpet — I pressed my palm against the glass and leaned in closer, trying to hear. The window shattered at my touch, splintering into a large web of broken glass.
Tommy fell off the bed, startled. I ducked into the bushes as he staggered over to the window.
“What the hell was that?” he muttered.
I wanted to explain that it was just an accident, and ask him about the party, but I bit my lip instead, crouching in the shadows. I felt bad about spying on him, but he didn’t look like he wanted company. I’d never seen him look so fragile and vulnerable. He probably wouldn’t have talked to me tonight anyway — and now he’d be pissed about the broken window. I hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble for it.
“Is anybody out there?” he called warily, running his fingers along the jagged edge of a piece of glass still in the frame. I sighed, feeling stupid for hiding from my boyfriend. Tommy jumped as I clawed my way out of the bushes, smiling sheepishly. His eyes widened and he ripped his hand away from the window, cutting it on the broken glass. Blood dripped from his curled fingers and his eyes darted back and forth. Never taking his eyes off the window, he moved backwards towards the door and felt for the doorknob with his good hand. Once he found it, he bolted from the room.
I wanted to curl up in a ball and die. It was like he was afraid of me. I’d never felt so alone, so abandoned in my entire life. In an attempt to avoid crying, I turned away from the window. A chill ran down my spine when I noticed the dark figure, standing across the street, staring at me. It was that creepy emo guy from school. Oh my God, is he stalking me?
At least he acknowledged my existence, unlike most of my friends and family. Suddenly my eyes widened. I’d never noticed him before, but now he was turning up everywhere. Did he have something to do with Megan’s death? Maybe he could give me some answers.
“Hey!” I shouted, beelining towards him. It wasn’t eloquent, but it got his attention. A huge truck with tires that screamed I am totally insecure passed between us, blaring country music. When it was gone, I was completely alone in the middle of the dark street. The strange boy had vanished.
I debated blowing off school the next morning. I mean, if everyone wanted to pretend I didn’t exist, why bother? But I knew I had to go. I had too many unanswered questions. I still needed to find out what happened at the party, and now there was something else — a secret my best friend and my boyfriend were keeping from me. I had to try and talk with Tommy again. I probably just startled him last night; maybe he couldn’t even see me, he just saw a dark silhouette outside his window. After Jennifer’s death and with all the crying, he might have even mistaken me for her. No wonder he freaked out.
I found Tommy at school and followed him to his first class, woodshop. The students were all working on individual projects, so it would be the perfect place to talk privately. Tommy was working on a magazine rack, or some kind of storage container. It was hard to tell at this point, he was still in the process of cutting all the pieces.
The shop was noisy, and he was wearing protective goggles and earplugs, so I tapped him on the shoulder. He stood up straight, but instead of turning around he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone and navigated to his pictures. Why were there so many pictures of Jennifer, and then him with Jennifer? My jaw dropped when he hit play on a video. I watched Jennifer perform a sort of strip tease — if you could call it that with her awkward dancing and giggling. At the end of it, she said, “I love you, Tommy.” I realized he was the one filming the clip when I heard him say, “I love you too.”
So it’s true. They’d been cheating behind my back. How could I not know? Was I that self-absorbed that I couldn’t see it going on, right under my nose? What an idiot I’d been, saving myself for Tommy, when he was already sleeping with my so-called best friend.
Tommy wiped a tear away, then went back to work. He turned on the power saw and began cutting the shapes out of the wood. I stood behind him in stunned silence. It all made sense. The way he was sitting with her at lunch, the way he listened to the voicemail to hear her voice again… he was in love with Jennifer. How long had it been going on? Was he ever in love with me? I felt betrayed, and the confusion and shock turned to rage. How dare they do this to me?
I grabbed the first thing I saw, a large chisel tool, and slammed it down on his workbench.
Tommy looked up in surprise. His eyes searched for the source of the sound, but his hands continued to guide the wood. A fountain of blood squirted towards me when the blade sliced between his fingers up to his wrist.
Tommy screamed in pain, cradling his arm. It was a deep cut, severing an artery. The woodshop teacher yelled to a student to grab the first aid kit, while he ran to assist Tommy. The blood continued to spurt with every heartbeat. I stared in disbelief as the blood dripped down his body, soaking his shirt and staining his white sneakers. Then his eyelids fluttered and he sank to his knees. I crouched down next to him, and saw that his pupils were unnaturally large.
“Hold on, Tommy!” I pleaded. I couldn’t lose him, too.
“Megan?” Tommy said softly, as the blood formed a crimson pool around him. “Is that you?”
I joined him on the floor, holding his good hand. The teacher was wrapping a huge wad of gauze around his injury, but the blood soaked through the white bandages. I bit my lip, trying to hold back the accusation that was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t resist.
“You and Jennifer. How could you do it? To me.” Tears streamed down my face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, with genuine regret in his voice. “I’m so sorry.” He reached up
The color drained from Tommy’s face as he reached up to stroke my cheek. Then he started convulsing. I knew he wouldn’t make it until the ambulance arrived. I averted my eyes, clenching my hands together to stop them from shaking. I couldn’t stand to watch Tommy die. That’s when I saw the creepy dude again, standing in the shadows on the other side of the room. He leered at me, his eyes sparking like black diamonds beneath his shaggy hair, and made the criss-cross symbol over his heart once more.
What the hell? Why was he following me around?
And why was he smiling as my boyfriend bled out on the floor?
I clenched my fists and stormed towards him. “I need to talk to you,” I said.
He lurched out of my path, flitting lightly towards the door.
I ran after him, down the deserted halls of the high school and through the main doors. We crossed through the parking lot, but he slowed down when we reached the flagpole. He turned to face me and his hoodie fell down, revealing his face clearly for the first time. I gasped when our eyes locked, and my heart thundered as I watched him disappear into the flagpole. I’d seen those eyes before. He was the first person I’d ever seen die.
His name was Brad, and he died two years ago. I think he was good at math or something. I saw him in the halls a few times. Dark hair, glasses and a medium build. He seemed nice and wasn’t the worst-looking guy, but that didn’t matter. We belonged to different social circles. Though I wasn’t head cheerleader back then, I was still popular. It would’ve been social suicide to hang out with him.
Okay, so maybe I noticed the jocks pushing him around once or twice. It wasn’t anything serious. I don’t know why they picked on him. Maybe he was an easy target, because he dressed differently and didn’t fight back. But one day it was worse than usual.
It happened after school, when most of the teachers had gone home. Jennifer and I were about to hit the mall when we noticed the commotion. Some of Tommy’s friends, big guys with letterman jackets, dragged Brad out to the flagpole. His hair was a mess and his clothes were torn. He stumbled and fell, but they picked him up and hauled him forward. Then they ripped the rest of his clothes off, down to his white underwear, and pulled out a giant roll of duct tape.
I couldn’t believe it was happening. They covered Brad’s mouth, then held him against the flagpole and wrapped tape around him until he was suspended in the air. The tape made red welts across his bare chest. A crowd gathered, cheering them on. That’s when I noticed Tommy beside me. He winked at me as folded his arms against his massive chest and smiled a kind of satisfied grin.
I had a major crush on him at the time, but who didn’t? Blonde hair, blue eyes, and muscles that were nothing short of a miracle. He asked me out the day before, and I was beyond ecstatic. I knew it wasn’t right, but I smiled back at him. Even as Brad’s muffled screams wormed their way into my ears. Tommy and Jen both laughed, so I joined them — letting out an uncomfortable giggle.
Then Brad’s dark, pleading eyes met met mine. My stomach clenched in shame. I felt like a little girl, getting caught being naughty. My heart pounded as Brad’s expression turned from disappointment to desperation, the terror. His eyes rolled in his head and his body shuddered.
“Something’s wrong,” I yelled. “Take him down!”
But it was too late. Brad’s eyes went dull, his body limp.
Nobody knew about his heart condition. We found that out later. Would they have taken it easy on him if they knew, or just teased him more? I turned away when they started slapping his face, trying to revive him. I knew he was already gone.
I didn’t know Brad that well, so it’s not like I was mourning him. But I was surprised I hadn’t recognized him earlier. You’d think witnessing his death would have burned his face into my memory. Instead the influence was subtle. After the incident, I decided that nothing would stop me from getting what I wanted in life. I practiced every day and became the best cheerleader in the squad. As a result, I was able to make head cheerleader in record time.
I didn’t participate in Brad’s death, but I didn’t do anything to stop it either. I could’ve looked for a teacher. I could’ve asked Tommy to make them stop. But I just laughed with the others. Trying to fit in, to be cool. And know he’d come back to haunt me.
Was this his revenge? Would he come after me, once he’d killed everyone I cared about? My eyes grew wide in horror, thinking about Ashley and my parents. What if they were next? I ran home as fast as I could. My lungs burned, but I didn’t stop. If Brad was responsible for the gruesome deaths of my best friend and boyfriend, there was no telling what he’d do to my family. I nearly collapsed on the front steps of my house, gasping for breath. Something felt off. The jack-o’-lanterns Ashley and I carved for Halloween were still next to the door, but they were sunken in and moldy, like they’d been rotting for weeks. I closed my eyes, feeling time slip away from me like sand through my fingers. But it couldn’t have been that long. Halloween was a few days ago. Jennifer died yesterday, and Tommy’s death happened just this afternoon… right?
The door opened suddenly and I stumbled backwards. My dad came out first, dressed in a black suit. He opened a dark umbrella for my mom, who was also wearing black, and walked her to the car. My sister made a run for it just as the sky opened up and started raining. Her breath hung like a white cloud in front of her, and her cheeks were red. When had it gotten so cold?
I squeezed into the car next to my sister. I wished I had time to grab my jacket, but I had a feeling they wouldn’t have waited for me. The headlights cut through the thickening mist. Mom chewed her lip, which she always did when she was worried. At some point I lost track of where we were — until I saw the gravestones. What were we doing at the cemetery? Dad nodded to my mother, but kept the engine running. She and my sister got out of the car. I felt torn, but decided to stay with Dad. He drove for a few more minutes, and we pulled up to a square building. A small golden sign near the door said mortuary.
“What are we doing here?” I asked. My dad didn’t acknowledge my question. His shoulders were shaking, and I felt a hollow ache in my chest when I realized he was crying. I’d never seen him cry before. Then he shocked me by smashing his fist into the dashboard several times. What was going on? Was there a funeral today? Was he helping out with the arrangements? But why?
I followed him out of the car, into a gleaming room full of polished caskets and floral wreaths. A thin man with a too-pink tie greeted my dad, then unlocked a door near the back. I squeezed in behind him and my dad before the door closed. Then we descended a narrow flight of stairs, into a sterile basement with rows of metal drawers built into the wall. Freezer storage. For dead people.
“Sam’s just finished up,” said the thin man. “I hope you’ll approve. Of course we’re terribly sorry for your loss. The lost of a child is something no parent should have to experience.”
The other man was wearing a blue medical outfit, stretched thin around his round belly. He washed his hands at the sink, then moved towards a gurney holding a body. I held my breath as he peeled back the green sheet and revealed a teenage girl. Jennifer. I exhaled, breathing a sigh of relief. I half-expected to see…
“I’m so sorry,” the thin man said, glaring at the other. “There must have been a mix-up. Sam, this gentleman’s daughter is the other young girl that came in recently.”
I heard a loud clanking noise and turned around to watch Sam open one of the cold storage units. Vapor poured out of the container as the metal shelf slid out of the wall, chilling the room. Then he lifted the sheet so we could see the corpse’s face. It was me. My stiff, lifeless body lay on the slab.
“I’m right here,” I said. “This has got to be a mistake.”
How could I be dead? Did something happen at the party? Why couldn’t I remember it?
I grabbed Dad’s sleeve, begging him to look at me, but he pulled away. I saw him wiping his eyes as he headed up the stairs. I didn’t want to leave my body, so I stayed and watched Sam fix my hair and makeup with acrylic paint, glue and varnish. Like I was a broken piece of furniture.
Is this why Brad could see me, and nobody else could? Was I a ghost too?
Suddenly I realized why my family was dressed in black, and why Mom and Ashley got dropped off at the cemetery. They were going to a funeral. My funeral. They’d come to say goodbye and put me in the ground. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I clawed at my throat, gasping for breath and choking down sobs that shook my body.
The room was inky black. Brad was gone, and so was my body. They must have moved me already. I was going to miss my own funeral. I reached for the door and ripped it open. I ran upstairs and out the front door, cutting through the mist and gravestones until I came across a gathering of dark figures around a rectangular hole. A polished mahogany casket was being lowered into the damp ground. Tears streamed down my mother’s face as she reached down and tossed the first handful of dirt into the grave. The words were muffled, like they were far away and fading. I couldn’t seem to get close enough to hear what they were saying. Then the figures blurred and warped, like they were the ghosts and only I was real.
Then I saw Brad. His pale skin and dark hair stood out sharply in the gray fog.
He smiled, and terror flooded my body. What did he want from me?
I backed away, never taking my eyes off his, then turned and ran in the opposite direction. I ran through the dark trees until I came to a section of the cemetery with taller gravestones and family crypts. One of them was open, so I ducked inside and crouched in the corner. I brushed a spiderweb out of my hair, my skin crawling. My heart pounded when I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Why are you following me?” I shouted, my eyes blurry from tears.
Brad reached for me, putting his cold hand on mine.
In that moment, something clicked in my brain, unlocking the mystery of the night I died.
I remembered kissing Tommy, but feeling sick, like I was about to vomit. Tommy asked if I was okay. The words seemed distant, like they came from another room. I must have had too much to drink. I collapsed against the pillows. It felt like I was sinking straight through the floor.
My eyes were half-closed when I saw Jennifer enter the room. Tommy took her by the hand and led her to the bed. He undressed her, kissing her neck, her shoulders. Then he rolled me to the side and climbed on top of her. I tried to fight the drowsiness, but I couldn’t move a muscle. Why couldn’t I move? Their laughter was the last sound I heard before I lost consciousness, a single tear rolling down my cheek.
The drink…it must have been the drink. Jennifer put something in it to knock me out, so she could take my place. And Tommy went along with it. A feeling of betrayal coursed through my body like fire. They’d apologized with their dying breath, so they probably hadn’t meant to kill me. That almost made it worse. I’d died a senseless, accidental death born out of bad intentions. Just like Brad.
Brad moved closer, and my back scraped against the cold stones of the crypt. There was nowhere else to go.
“I’m sorry!” I screamed. I shut my eyes, waiting for him to make his move.
But what else could he do to me, I was already dead. I opened my eyes cautiously.
Brad’s dark gaze gleamed in the pale light, but not with hatred. His eyes held a sort of reverence, maybe even kindness. I somehow knew, instinctively, that he wasn’t angry at me for what had happened at the flagpole. He was angry for me, for what Jennifer and Tommy did to me.
He reached for my face and gently stroked my cheek. Then he pulled the silver locket out from beneath my shirt. The clasp opened easily at his touch, so I could read the inscription inside.
Together forever, cross my heart and hope to die.
xox, Tommy
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Originally a Jersey girl, sunny Texas is where I now call home, in a town way up north in the panhandle called Wellington. For fun I like to read YA, horror, and existentialist fiction, as well as watch cartoons, movies, and sometimes even cartoon movies. I also love reading excellent indie fiction! Hop over to my website — katstiles.com — for a chance to win some of my favorite indie reads.
Derek Murphy lives in castles and writes dark fantasy and technothrillers. He’s also got a PhD in Literature that collects dust on the shelf next to his books, macabre Halloween decorations and a toy stun ray that makes inappropriate noises. Sign up for some free books on his fiction blog, www.UrbanEpics.com.
