Phantasmata

I. Awakening

I was never a good child to my mother. Everyday she'd bust her ass to help provide for the family, and I always gave her a hard time. Despite my shortcomings, despite my flaws, she loved me
unconditionally. It wasn't until after her death that I'd come to see what she truly did for me, and I truly regretted it. Life with just my father and I were hard, especially with how strict he was.

It's been 5 years since she passed, and everyday I hold onto her memory as if she was still here. My father on the other hand takes his problems, and drinks it all away. I guess it's understandable, but you'd think after all these years he'd leave the grieving process, then again, have I? Did I really get over it all? No, I didn't.

As I lay in bed, I hear a knock at my door.

Knock knock

"Come in!" I yell. The door opens and in walks my dad.

He gives me a stern look and says, "You gonna lay in bed all day, or are you gonna get your lazy ass up and do something productive?" Before I could answer, he scoffs and leaves the room. The sound of silence deafens my ears as I close my eyes and see images form in the blackness of my mind. Suddenly, a voice echoes around me and pulsates with each incoherent word.

Before I could make out what I heard a voice rings from the hallway, "Hurry the hell up Mason!" My mind snapped back into reality and I got up to get dressed and hurry out the door. As I made my way into the kitchen, the smell of bacon and eggs attacked my nose. My dad was propped up in his chair surrounded by beer cans and cigarettes.

After a swig of the last bit of beer in the can he said, "I need you to watch over the shop today" He continued "The festival is next week so lots of people are gonna stock up on food before the tourists show up" My mom and dad owned a general store, which is fitting for a small town like ours. Every year the town hosts a festival to commemorate the founding of Blackwood, which is great business for us.

"Sure thing, dad" I said, sitting down with a plate full of eggs. His eyes met mine and I could sense a bit of relief. Before I could say anything else, he excused himself from the table and made his way to his room accompanied by another six pack.

"God damnit" Was all I could say. With that, I made my way out the door and off to the shop. The drive over was a series of contemplating what I got myself into, and non-stop thinking. Very rarely does my father let me watch over the shop, and when he does, he's on me like a hawk. After what seemed like a long drive, I made it just in time to see Mr.Harden, our supplier.

His short, black hair, and pencil moustache on full view for the world to see. As always, he was smoking a cigarette, and reading a book. As I stepped out of my car, I could see his face light up with anticipation.

"Mason my boy how's it going?" He asked as he closed his book.

"Can't really complain, Mr.Harden. What book are you reading now?" I asked, not really caring but, just being polite.

"Oh this? It's about some boy who's haunted by some doll that's actually possessed by his uncle who's actually his grandfather." The look in his eyes go wide as he tells me the twists and turns of the story.

"Well fuck" was all I could manage to say.

"Exactly. Imagine my mind after getting this far and there's still supposed to be a big twist!" He continues. A little while later I pay for the new supplies and open the store. Before he leaves Mr.Harden gives me a weird look and sighs.

"How's yer' dad? He hasn't been coming to poker night the last two weeks. Everything ok at home?" Before I could answer, something caught my eye. A man in a black suit was staring at me from across the street. His eyes were as black as the night, and they looked directly at me, piercing my soul and invading my thoughts. All I could feel was hate, disgusting, loathful, hate. Everything else didn't seem to matter, and I was unable to move. The man soon began to smile and in a flash, he disappeared.