Ghost

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When you were a little kid, did you ever sleep with a nightlight? Were you afraid of the dark? Did you ever convince yourself that pile of clothes in the corner of your room was a ghost? Did you even believe in ghosts?

George never did. He was always methodical , if it couldn't be explained by science it didn't exist. After he dropped Clay and Drista off at their house, the car grew cold and silent. Eliza was now in the passenger, fighting the urge to sleep. George have turned down the radio so if she sleep, she slept well. 

Tapping the steering wheel with the tempo of the song from the lake, George pulled the wheel to the right, driving onto his street. They lived near the end of the road so it would still be a minute or so before they were home. Eliza started to stir, yawning and rubbing sleep from her eyes. 

Once George finally turned into their drive-way, the beaming headlights shone on something. Like a deer in headlights the figure standing t the front door started into the light. He was tall, wearing clothes that were tough and tattered. George swallowed hard. 

"George..." Eliza's voice was meek with fear. "Is that...?" She mumbled. 

"It is." George grumbled. He turned the keys and parted it from the ignition. "You stay behind me, i don't know why he's here." George warned as he got out. When he opened the car door, the figure opened his arms in a friendly way. Eliza stayed close to George. 

"Long time no see." The man smiled warmly. 

"Not long enough." George spat. "Why are you here?" He demanded. 

"Now, is that anyway to speak to your old man?" John Founders. Their runaway father was back, standing at their front door with a smile as sweet as honey. He allowed his arms to drop. In a swift motion, he threw back the tail of his coat and rested his hands on his hips. George saw a glint of silver dance in the moon. He had a gun. 

"I'll ask again, why are you here?" George took hold of Eliza's arm and made sure she was fully behind him. 

"I got a call from the hospital saying my wife was admitted due to sickness." He explained. His wife. They never finalized a divorce because his mom was too sick for it. The damn bastard was just waiting for her to die. George scrunched his nose in fury. 

"Your wife? Right."

"Look, i know your mad. Can we go inside and just talk? I'm sure you have a lot to say to me..." John frowned. George glanced at Eliza, mouthing go to your room. She nodded. George make sure to stay between John and Eliza during the entire process. 

As soon as all there inside, Eliza darted away. He could hear her door shut and lock. Once she was out of the room and safe, George gave a soft breath of relief. 

"She's a beautiful young girl. Your mother raised you both well." John mumbled awkwardly.

"I raised her. I've been raising her since i was fourteen. Thank to you." George spat. 

"You do know i am still your father? And i am still married to your mother? Don't talk to me like that."

"I will talk to you however you want. You are not my dad, you walked out on your dying wife and left your two kids." George growled. "You are only here for the life insurance on her, right? You don't care about me or Eliza." 

John looked him up and down. "I came here to make right with you guys. I want to be the father you can be proud of. I want to be here with you guys." John pleaded. 

George looked at the pathetic man before him in disgust. He knew very well why the man was truly here. John Founders had no intention of staying here and supportjng his family through this. George would bet five dollars he didn't even know his wife was dead or alive until the hospital called.

The hospital.

He worked there and knew why it had happened. George was not the legal guardian of Eliza, and John Founders was the closest living relative that was over eighteen. Granted George was eighteen, but only by a few days at this point.

George begrudgingly sat at the table. His father sat across from him. "So...?" He mumbled hopefully.

"You can't stay here. I don't care what you say, I do not trust you and your... Habits around my little sister. You do not come by unless I am home. And when... She dies... You are on the first plane back to whatever sad hold you crawled out off." George stared him in the eyes, holding a challenging gaze.

"That's all I ask..." John looked around the home for a moment, before bringing his gaze back to George. "I do have a favor.." He mumbled. 

"What would be...?" George hissed, venom lacing his words. 

"I haven't gotten a hotel you see... just one night that's all need." 

George thought for a moment. All would be risked, and yet this man was still family, he felt indebted. "One night..." George rose to his feet and wondered off to Eliza's room. 

He stayed the night in his sister's room, giving the couch too his deadbeat dad. He thought about sleeping in his mother's room, but that wouldn't feel right. Besides, on the floor of his sister's room, he was right there in case anything happened. 

In the middle of the night, while George was still awake, he heard Eliza get up and leave the room. Perhaps for a midnight bathroom run, or three am thirst. But soon the soft footsteps of Eliza traced back into the room. He heard her place several small metallic things in a drawer and shut it before returning to her bed. 

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