Given the rarity of such a huge hoard of spirit talkers gathering in one place, to avoid any potential suspicion, all families have left the city before the sun rises the next day. We hear little from anyone over the following week or so.
There are a few false alarms where someone thinks a dark spirit might be related to Connor, but nothing with much substance behind it. Despite a lack of progress, it's at least reassuring to know people are actively looking now. The Medakis have seriously loosened my house arrest too, so I'm almost living like a normal person.
I had a major off day yesterday where my mood was so low that I couldn't see or speak to Annabel. Today is the anniversary of my family's deaths, so it's a fair assumption that the two are related. However, I must be a sick bastard because my mood is better this morning.
I can see and speak to Annabel, but it's hardly perfect because the banished voices are loud, and I can barely keep them under control. I'm nowhere near the natural state of unconsciously pushing them away that I've grown accustomed to. It's like I'm back to square one.
"It's okay if you want to take some for today." Annabel's whiny voice pleads in my ear. "Please, it'll help. It doesn't mean you're going backwards."
She's trying to convince me to drink one of Chiku's anesthetizers, but I'm gritting my teeth in refusal. It's been nearly two weeks since I drank any of that stuff, and I don't want to give in now.
"Why do you ignore us? Listen! Listen!"
I squeeze my eyes shut as I roll over in bed. I don't even feel that awful today, I just want the voices to go away.
"Felix, please."
"You can hear us! We know you hear us!"
I push and push and push, and it half works, but not well enough. The voices murmur, and another screech breaks through. I know I'm being dumb and Annabel is right, but it's frustrating. Another scream echoes in my head, and I do it. I give in. I'll just drink one of Chiku's stupid anesthetizers.
Complaining to Annabel the entire time, I drag myself out of bed and make my way downstairs. I huff into the kitchen and take one of the bottles from the fridge, then down half of its contents.
"I thought you didn't need that anymore."
"Jesus, what is it with people creeping up on me?" I snipe as I turn to see Jamie sitting at the kitchen table.
"I was here when you walked in, you moron."
"Alright, Jay, don't bite my head off over it."
"Jamie," he hits back.
Ugh, I'm not in the mood for this. What's he even doing here? It's, like, eight in the morning. I glance down at my phone in my hand. I mean, it's, like, two in the afternoon. How the hell is it two in the afternoon? I spent all of yesterday in bed not sleeping, so maybe this is my body's way of catching up.
"I thought you didn't need that anymore," Jamie repeats as he nods at the bottle in my hand.
What is this? Interrogate Felix day or something? I don't give him the satisfaction of an answer, and instead, just shrug. He rolls his eyes, then starts aggressively typing away on his laptop. It's really, really irritating.
"Just give in! Stupid child!"
I wince, and Jamie being the goddamn eagle eye he is, notices immediately. He stops typing, and his peepers stare at me over his laptop screen. I don't give him much to look at, and pop Chiku's drink back into the fridge before pulling up a chair opposite him. I lean my head back and shut my eyes for a few seconds.
"Why don't you talk to him about it?" Annabel suddenly pipes up from the kitchen counter she's christened as her seat.
"I'd rather eat my own shit," is my response.
"What?" Jamie asks as he halts his typing again.
"Not you."
"Stop pretending! We know you hear us!"
I flinch again, and Jamie catches it. Again. Why isn't the drink kicking in? Has it always worked this slowly? I lower my head to the table, and rest it on my arms.
"My parents died today," I say into the table. "Not literally today, obviously. Twelve years ago today."
I don't know what compels me to say it, but it's out there now. I don't look up to see Jamie's reaction, nor Annabel's. The sound of Jamie's typing has stopped again, and it doesn't restart. I don't think Jamie's going to say anything--hell, I'm starting to wonder if the guy has left the room--when I hear him take a breath.
"I know it feels like the last thing you want to do, but thinking about them helps," he says quietly.
He's right. That is the last thing I want to do.
"It's far more exhausting forcing yourself not to. Let yourself be sad if that's how you feel."
Jamie's voice sounds slightly muffled with my head pressed onto the table, and the guy has thrown me completely. He didn't even try to be snide. He's genuinely trying to help. Whether I'll take his advice on board or not is another thing altogether, but I appreciate how rare of a conversation this is. It must be hard for him to filter all derogatoration from what he's saying.
I lift my head back up for my eyes to meet Jamie's, but before I can say anything, Kato appears in the doorway.
"Ah, Felix. Good afternoon, darling!"
Her voice is probably the softest I've ever heard it. She popped into my bedroom a few times yesterday to ask me if I needed any food or drink, to which my response was, for the most part, a few incoherent mumbles. I thought I was doing a great job at masking my desire for the world to swallow me whole, but looking back, like hell I was. I give her an awkward, barely there smile, and she asks me if I want anything to eat. My stomach grumbles in response, which answers Kato's question on my behalf.
As Kato turns her back to shuffle through a cupboard, I shift my attention back to Jamie.
"Thanks," I say, and I hope it comes out sounding sincere.
Not that I have any plans to admit this to his face, but my brief conversation with Jamie has kind of, sort of, maybe made me feel a bit better. I can't give him all the credit because now that I'm back in my bedroom with a full stomach, the anesthetizer has kicked in, and strangely enough, not hearing a stream of screeching voices twenty-four seven does have a knack for lifting my mood.
Bar Jamie, who has one left to take, everyone has finished their exams, so the ghoul patrol are heading out tonight. It's the opening night of the city's annual summer fair, which until a few hours ago, was the last thing I wanted anything to do with. Now that I don't feel like running headfirst into a brick wall, I might even join them. All I'll be doing otherwise is haunting this house feeling sorry for myself.
By the time six o' clock rolls around, I'm sitting on the thirty-two bus with my arm stretched over the back of Carmen's seat beside me. I've not mentioned the whole family death anniversary thing to anyone beyond Jamie, and his personality transplant must still be in full force because he's not ratted me out to anyone, either. I'd even go as far to say he's being kind of nice to me.
There are fireworks tonight, and so Tom's taken that as his cue to tell us his story about the time his nan--the towel one--organised a display at his school for bonfire night when he was a kid, where the first firework was accidentally aimed directly at the gymnasium. It ended better than you'd think, actually.
Tom's questioning us on our favourite type of fireworks when we step off the bus and begin making our way towards the large park. Jamie's favourite is the Catherine Wheel, which is exactly what I thought it'd be. I like rockets. They make a cool pew sound. Ava takes the easy option and says they're all groovy, while Carmen admits she's never actually been to a fireworks display.
"How?" I practically scream at her upon the revelation.
She shrugs. "My mum's scared of them, and my dad was always too busy for that shit."
"Damn, and there I was thinking posh people had it all," I say with a whistle.
Carmen pulls her hand away from mine, and smacks me in the arm. "I'm not posh!"
"That's exactly what a posh person would say," I point out.
She goes to poke me in my side, but I dodge it. When she tries again, I pick up my pace and shoot forward. Carmen chases me, and I weave through the crowd, but she's really damn light on her feet so I'm barely evading her.
"Can you two stop shamelessly flirting, it's abhorrent!" I hear Jamie call from behind somewhere.
Ah well, the nice act was fun while it lasted. I stop and spin around, only to be caught by Carmen, who barges into me with a laugh.
"Seconded," Annabel, who suddenly manifests in front of us, scoffs.
"Not to mention we're going to lose you," Jamie whines as he, Tom, and Ava catch up with us. "There are a lot of people here, and I don't plan on spending my night looking for you because you wandered off."
"Sorry, Dad," I apologise as we keep walking, this time at a speed Jamie won't complain about.
He opens his mouth, clearly with the intention of insulting me, but then must remember the whole dead parent anniversary thing because he clamps it back shut. I'm starting to go off his nice act. It's funny when he snaps at me.
We've been here ten minutes, and haven't even technically entered the event yet, but I'm already glad I came. Sod moping around the house. I usually intentionally spend this date by myself, not accounting for Annabel, treating it almost like a punishment. Like I shouldn't be doing stuff today, let alone enjoying myself. For whatever reason, this is only occurring to me now, and I physically cringe at how self-deprecating the whole thing is, or was.
Once we've flashed our mobile tickets to the attendant standing underneath a huge banner welcoming people to the fair, we step into a world of glaring music and sweet aromas. The attendant himself looked like he'd rather be eating rusty nails than standing in a dried out field scanning tickets, which admittedly killed the mood for a second, but I perk up almost immediately the second I spot the merry-go-round.
Annabel used to love a merry-go-round. Despite being a sixteen-year-old dead girl, whenever I was little, she'd always make me beg my foster parents to have a ride on it so she could join me. Not that she needed me there to have a go, but I guess it made her feel a lot less weird to be on a ride made for small, non-dead children. As I got older, I started taking the piss out of her for being such a horse girl, but the ride's bright lights and theatrical music makes it impossible for me to resist.
I don't even say anything to the guys, just start sprinting towards it. Jamie yells after me, but I ignore him. Annabel is perfectly on my wavelength because she's already standing beside the ride when I get there. She's grinning at me like an idiot, and when the rest of the gang catch up with me, Tom questions why I want to go on a ride designed for children below the age of twelve.
"Hm, shit, yeah..." I mutter as I pay attention to everyone else in the queue. They're literally all children. "I'll look a bit dodgy, won't I? Annabel wants to go on it."
Jamie tilts his head. "How is that plausible? She's dead."
"Dead people can have fun too. Sheesh, Jay, not very inclusive of you."
Annabel doesn't want to go by herself, so we end up all agreeing to ride it. We figured it'll look less seedy than me going alone, and even manage to force Jamie along for the ride. He mutters under his breath, complaining about feeling like an imbecile the whole time, but if anything, that adds to the fun. By the time the ride is over, I decide it was worth the whole four pounds. Plus, hey, Annabel rode for free. A bargain, really.
With that whole thing out of my system, I take in the rest of the fair. The sun isn't due to set until close to nine, but there's a contagious warmth in the air that's making me feel not even the slightest bit bitter at the sunlight for dimming the fairground lights. I'm without a doubt certain every corner of this field smells of candy floss and popcorn, and for the first time this year, it's starting to feel like summer. We spend the next few hours wasting way too much money on hugely disappointing rides, but I love every second of it. It's almost like the worse the ride is, the better the experience.
Jamie and I are queuing up to buy sugar doughnuts and alcohol at one of the fairground bars, while the rest of the gang scout out a table. He keeps glancing at me, and I ignore it at first, but the guy's got a real staring problem. Finally, he spits out whatever he's been spending the past ten minutes going over in his head.
"Are you okay?" he asks, and I've got no idea what the guy is talking about. He quickly starts rambling. "After this afternoon, I mean, with the parent thing. Sorry, I'm admittedly not the best at, uh--Well, you know, emotional topics."
"Really? Didn't notice."
Jamie catches the sarcasm in my voice immediately. "I'm trying to be nice," he mumbles.
I go to laugh, but the guy looks genuinely hurt. Goddamnit. "I am, thanks. A lot better. If it helps," I try. "Winding you up is my way of showing affection."
"Oh," Jamie says, and his eyebrows knit together. "I thought I irritated you."
"What? You kidding? I irritate the shit out of you, mate, not the other way round."
"Oh, okay. Oh, well, me too. As in--I mean, I don't actually dislike you. You are annoying, though."
I don't actually dislike you isn't exactly the warmest of admissions, nor is following that up with you are annoying, though. By Jamie's standards, however, he's practically proposing to me.
"Ugh, guys are stupid." Annabel's voice makes me jump, and I flicker my eyes to my left to see her rolling hers. "Just say you like each other, Jesus."
Now she's the real arshole.
With drinks and doughnuts in hand, Jamie and I find the rest of the guys sitting at a large, round table. I've been granted permission to have one drink, which I'd planned on making a pint of absinthe, but Jamie didn't let me order it because he's an absolute killjoy. Instead, I've got a modest whisky and coke. Maybe if I drink it fast enough, I'll feel at least a small buzz.
It's eight-thirty, and the firework display is scheduled for an hour's time, so the plan is to have a few drinks beforehand. The local radio station has prepared a playlist especially for the display, which is apparently a huge deal. According to Ava, people flock from all around the UK, or at least England--as an official Irishman, I can't imagine the Northern Irish coming all this way--to this event, purely for the firework display and its soundtrack.
We make our way towards the viewing zone fifteen minutes before the display is due to start, and we manage to nab a spot near a small stone wall, where Ava stands to get a good view of the sky. The rest of us are tall enough for our view not to be obscured by the heads of the crowd, so we stand on the grass below.
We have a few minutes before the fireworks are due to be set off, and I really need a pee. Ava assures me this thing always starts a few minutes late anyway, so I figure I can get away with quickly running to use one of the portaloos located near the food stand area. A glaring food hygiene hazard, if you ask me, but what can you do, eh?
I make Jamie promise he'll save my spot, then barge my way through the crowd to find a free portaloo. I hadn't realised how much the crowd had built up, so it takes longer than expected to break through it, and I'm half tempted to quickly find a bush. I glance around. I could definitely get away with it, and Annabel's stayed with everyone else, so I wouldn't have to listen to her whining and acting grossed out by it. Saying that, there's a lot of kids around. I only just evaded looking like the Child Catcher at the merry-go-round, so I probably shouldn't risk it. Ugh, fine, I'll find a portaloo.
I'm mumbling to myself, complaining about the audacity of me having to find an actual toilet to use when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I stop in my tracks, and the lights of the fairground dim as music starts flowing from the speakers' dotted around the huge field. It begins quietly, but it's slowly increasing in volume as the fairground lights switch off completely, and I spin around to face whichever one of the budget ghostbuster gang has been ordered to find me, only it's not one of them.
"I've missed you."
It's Connor.