The Ghosts That Haunt Us

Finis

A dark room greeted Veronica as she startled awake. There was no sound. There was no light. What could have woken her? She didn't dream, and phantom sounds never did trouble her. If they did she would be dead by now. Even without the sounds she was near dead.

Her mind flashed back to the days of Kindergarten-A connection that only a half asleep mind could make-and the days when things were so simple. The days before boyfriends, or murders, or father's that should have kept their distance but didn't. Life used to be so easy, ha!

"Who's there?" she called. Any trust that a bump in the night was just that-a bump in the night-had disappeared a long time ago. Nothing made a sound without a reason, and she had long since stopped being so naive and believing it did. Boyfriends had taught her that lesson the hard way. One boyfriend in particular.

When no answer came her mind began to wander. She wondered if he was sleeping...the only boyfriend she didn't mind coming in without a warning knock. The only person she trusted with her life, gave her soul to. She wondered if she had a soul...did it burn down with the bodies that had washed up on the shore? They hadn't killed them, but they might as well have. She wondered if he felt the same way.

J.D...he was the everything of her world lately. He and Martha. They breathed, though at times she found herself wondering if J.D was real or just a figment of her famously riotous imagination. She wondered if he dreamed. She wondered if the thumps of the wind in the night woke him as it woke her. She wondered if he was awake now...maybe she could walk to his house. Maybe they'd drive downtown and get midnight pancakes. Maybe he wasn't as crazy as he seemed. Maybe she was the crazy one. Really, she had no idea at this point. When they had last seen each other it had been at the 'funeral' for Heather Chandler. They had burned the body on the beach, watching as her soul flew free from her body and out to sea.

That was the thing about being with J.D-It was all dreamy. Real people didn't find and burn dead bodies to set their sick souls free. Real people didn't make her feel the way he did. Real people had expectations and envelopes to push. J.D didn't have any of that. She didn't know if he felt anything-That was part of what made him so attractive. He said he loved her. She didn't know if she believed him, but she sure liked hearing it.

Her eyes started to wander closed and she thought about laying back down, her dark hair decorating the pillow. It would be nice. She could leave the bump to the night to disappear with the morning. It could just be a tree branch against her window. It could be in her head.

Shaking herself awake she pushed the thought away, pulling her pale legs off the warm bed and letting her feet touch the freezing cold wood of her floor. After sitting on the edge of the bed for a while wondering if she was really going to get up she pushed herself off the bed and began to rummage around for socks and a bra.

She would go and walk to his house. She would shake him awake. She would sleep next to him. No, she would dance with him...she didn't know what she was going to do. She was going to go to him, and that was good enough. Pulling on her new clothes she grabbed her coat, shoes, and hat before dropping out the window. As the cold air met her face she shivered, scrunching her eyes closed and cursing softly as she quickly made her way out of her yard to to the main street.

She began to run as she got closer, jumping J.D's fence, and running to his basement-bedroom window. She didn't knock, didn't wait to be invited inside. She chuckled as she saw how weak his lock was-Just a standard one. She had learned to pick it when she was in diapers. If he was really hoping to keep anyone out of his room with locks like that he had a lesson to learn.

Dropping through his now open window she thought she would find him happily asleep in his bed, maybe a mattress on the floor. What she found in the end wasn't what she had been expecting-He was crumpled up on the floor, tears coursing down his cheeks, though he seemed to be asleep. His breathing was sharp and ragged, his breast irregular.