Four Months

33. Blue Balls

I got into James and cranked him up. I drove to the next destination. Step-One was complete. Obtain any and all evidence. Now Step-Two was in going into play-- which was to tell someone, about everything. Anyone. Could've been a dog, feral cat, veracious bunny, or kind alligator. Someone had to know. My guts needed to be spilled. It felt like a knot sat on the bottom of my lungs any time I leaned over. I was physically hurting my own self keeping these secrets. I never knew the feeling of lost human interaction until I experienced the wrath of a late 40-year-old something psychopathic man.

He made me like this. He was to blame for all my issues, mental, physical, and emotional. He is the reason I'm driving in circles trying to sort out the safest person I can unleash my fears into. I needed someone who wouldn't run from me or leave me in a deeper hole than I already was. A person who I could trust and rely on. A listener who listened with intent and made eye contact every so complaint to assure you that they're listening and trying to care. I needed that person in my life right now.

I turned into the driveway of a small vintage light blue house. The grass needed to be cut and the shutters were quite old. The street was quietly filled with similar older pastel-colored houses. Two large matted poinsettias sat on either side of the porch entrance. Cobb webs collected at every corner underneath it. The doorknob was rusted gold with scratches and rust creeping. I shut my door and walked up the porch steps before knocking on the light wooden door four times. No response. I knocked again for another four times, waiting outside and the wind was picking up more now. I walked down the slanted steps and went on the side of the house, checking for any side or backdoors that might look more in use than the front. Nothing.

I peered into the first window and looked into a living room with plastic coverings of the antique furniture. The light green and beige floral patterns from the 70's up until the 90's most of us can remember collecting dust in our grandparent's and aunts' homes. There was a fireplace in the corner with an array of family portraits. Babies, toddlers, graduation, and wedding pictures filled the wall space on each side of the fireplace. I myself could not even think of the patience and work it took to even get that many family members together for a picture. It was almost as if the fireplace segregated the two walls from each other. I looked closer and noticed the right side of the wall portraits were of various dark-skinned people ranging from light to dark in complexion. The left side holdings portraits of fair-skinned people with jet-black toned hair. The fireplace mantle gently merging both sides and filling its long mantle with a sea of bronzed-jet black curly-headed folks. I stared in awe and the different collective faces that all shared the same wall.

A-frame shook. I squinted my eyes peering harder through the glass, there it was, another frame shook. My eyes widened and I began to get chills at the thought of the old house being occupied by spirits of another realm. My eyes stayed glued to the wall as it seems the frames stopped jiggling against their nails. I breathed out in relief. Clat! I swung my head back to the wall watching 3 more portraits take a fall to the ground, not shattering but the dark wooden frames clanked each time a corner hit the ground. The wall begins to vibrate. I turned my head in confusion. I stepped back and observed the house more to see another window just a few feet down vibrating as well. I gazed at the wall once more before turning down left to the next window. I crept up towards it, careful not to get caught by any lingering spirits or at least the one I seemed to anger back in the family room. I ducked under the window pail slowly treading to the spot of movement. I crouched down lower taking in four deep breaths. "Okay Zaviana, you've got this. It's just a silly ghost, can't even harm you. You are flesh, it isn't," I nodded my head believing myself. I closed my eyes and reach my arms up so that my fingertips were lightly pressed against the pail. I inhaled one last time and pulled myself up in a woosh.