XI

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-Jamison-

I sit at the dinner table staring at my food, pushing it around. My parents are talking about how relieved they are to hear Lainna's alive. Their metal forks and knives clanking with the glass plates. I don't dare look at them, because they'll look right back. I told them, of course when I got back, that she was alright. I told them I saw her, tried to spend sometime with her. They hugged each other and cried. Called Lainna's parents and told them the news. There was a lot of crying.

I on the other hand just sat up in my room, wondering why she didn't come with me. I wanted her to come back home, to be safe with her family. She was stubborn and kept replying with no to everything I asked. It kind of hurt to hear her say she didn't want to be home, that the house with the ghosts was her home. We argued and guess where that left me. Alone.

I shouldn't be pushing her to be somewhere she doesn't want to be, but all I want is for her to be safe. "Jamison?" Mom says concerned. "Are you okay? You seem a bit quiet tonight." I shake my head.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking about somethings." I say, shrugging my shoulders. I still stare at my peas and push them around on my plate, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone. "So if you'll excuse me..." I say while cleaning up my spot. I take my dishes into the kitchen, and dad follows. Me and my dad are a little on the awkward side. We talk, but we never have a full on conversation. He doesn't tell me how things are going and neither do I.

"Hey, son." He says, walking over to me and patting my back. I lean against the counter and so does he. I guess me and my father are alike in some ways. We react to things the same, I have his blue eyes, hair color, tallness, strength, nose, and deep voice. It's weird to say and think this, but we could almost be twins. "I know things are tough right now," he says eventually, and adds, "but things will get better. I've never really had this happen to me, but I can tell your strong, big heart is broken. I can tell when I see one." He says, nudging me and giving me a little smile. He looks back up towards the ceiling and sighs a happy sigh.

"I remember those days. Discovering girls. It was a pretty good-" He starts to talk about his past when he was my age and I cut him off. "Okay dad, no need for your love life past." I say jokingly. Unfortunately, I don't have his sense of humor. He slaps my back, a little too hard, and laughs a little.

"I know, I know. Don't want to hear your old man's love life. I get it. But really, you need to find that girl, get that girl, and bring her home. I'd like to meet this trouble maker of yours." He says smiling a little. He walks out of the kitchen, so that means our talk was over.

His words echo throughout my head: Find that girl, get that girl and bring her home. That's just what I'll do then.


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