The Suffering Of Tate Langdon

Chapter 16: Somewhere Else

This is one of the most amazing things to see, my mom and boyfriend thick as thieves, even after everything. They were talking without even thinking, constantly joking around with each other and smiling uncontrollably. I've never seen my mom like this, not since she died, maybe, maybe even before that, she's had it rough her entire life, but it seems that it's starting to come better. The smiles, the laughs, all of it seemed so surreal, unlike Tate and my mom, but it's nice, I love all of it. I don't even know what topic they're on anymore, I've lost track of it all, they've been talking too much. I laugh at them though, not caring if it seemed like a terrible moment too, I don't know what they're talking about, so I guess it's time to check in.

"And that's when I came second place in the Track Finals!" Tate laughs. "Two centimetres behind!"
"Jesus, Tate!" My mom laughs with him, her smiling nearly peeling off of her face. "Sounded like a pain in the ass!"
Tate doesn't talk much about school, or his past for that manner, there are few things; track, his siblings, and in his dreams, the people he's hurt. I hear him begging for their mercy and forgiveness, I'm sure that he's having night-terrors now. There's something he always does before he goes to sleep, and it concerns me; he always tries to postpone sleep, like he's terrified of it or something. I can tell he wants to tell me about it, but I'm not going to rush him, I'll wait until he's ready.
"Is there anything else you can remember from the time in high school?" my mom asks.
Tate pauses for a few seconds, looking like he's thinking hard about it, but I knew him well enough to know that there's nothing he liked about it.
"No, I don't think there were many things worth remembering," he says, looking at me, then down at his feet. "But there are some things I wish I could forget."

Both my mom and I, we knew exactly what he meant when he said those words, we could hear the sadness, the regret, all of it. I look at my mom, but she was already looking at me, her eyes doing the silent talking. She eyes moved from me to Tate, telling me to scoot over to him to comfort him. I do what she says, not like I wasn't going to anyway, sliding into the arms of Tate, already sensing his beautiful smile coming back. I lay against him, enjoying his welcoming warmth to my delight, even my mom was delighted to see us snuggled together. It was moments like this that made the afterlife worth living, it's amazing, and it's great to see Tate getting along with my parents, he even has an appointment with my dad later this afternoon. I don't think there's anything else in the entire existence of the world that would make me happier than I am at the moment, nothing at all, not even still being alive.

"Thank you, Violet, and you Vivien. I can't explain how much I appreciate it."
"It's okay, Tate, really. You make my daughter the happiest girl in the world, and that means everything to me. So thank you, Tate," my mother says, winking at me. "You really are an amazing person."
The smile on Tate's face is an amazing sight, even making my mother awkwardly blush. It was always a treat to see his smile, I used to describe it as an angel's smile on a ghost's face, probably the only way I could to be honest. It's beautiful, but I can see behind it, how broken and scarred it is, it's so easy to look past, but Tate knows I can see straight through it.
"I," I pause, realising that I'm about to say the 'three words of perfection' in front of my mother. I think about it hard, whether to embarrass myself and possibly Tate in front of my mother. As much as I'm fighting the urge to, I want my mother to know exactly how I feel about him. "I love you, Tate."

The silence lingers in the room like a bad smell, and I knew then that I'd just embarrassed both me and Tate. I couldn't stop looking down at my feet like they were super-glued to them with embarrassment, I regret ever saying those words, in front of my mom anyway. Tate was quiet, which didn't seem good, he's never really quiet when he's with me. I get the courage look up at him, and there he is, his cheeks rosy red and the smile on his face even wider. I could hear him quietly chuckling, my mother doing the same in front of us. I look up at her, and her smile is nothing like I've ever seen before, full of love and happiness, she hasn't smiled like that in a very long time.

"Well, lovebirds," she finishes laughing. "I think we should start a new topic."
"Agreed," both I and Tate say, looking straight at each other with loving eyes.
"You know? I've been thinking," my mom pauses again like she always does. Speaking slowly was always her fore-shadow. "Murder House is like a beacon for ghosts, right? So, do you guys think there's something else out there?"
"What? Like vampires and witches!" I laugh at the thought, catching my mother off guard.
"Aliens even?" Tate joins in on the laugh, which makes my mother join us also. "You're not the only one that's thought about this, Vivien. And it seems to be something we will never find out for sure, not while we're dead anyway."
I thought my mom was overthinking things again, but when Tate joined in on the thought, it does seem to make sense now. California has been known to be the 'State of the Dead', examples of this could be Colma, the 'City of the Dead'. Perhaps California is a beacon for the undead, all of California, I've never thought this hard about it until now. Maybe Tate and my mom are really onto something, I grab my laptop on my bed and start googling, still listening in on the conversation while doing so.

"Murder House is a trap for the spirits of those who have died here, making them stay here until they can roam around the night of Halloween, which is also known as Devil's Night, but still, something doesn't seem right. This couldn't really be the only place that ghosts co-exist around, right? Vi, are you googling stuff?" Tate asks.
"Yeah, searching articles of the highest death count in places of California, I guess it's a start," I say, scrolling down more and more of the google results until I reach a website describing a place called the 'Hotel Cortez'.
"Tate? Do you think any of us can move from one place to another? Like a swap of location?" My mom asks.
"Doubt it. I've been here for a fair amount of time, and I've never seen a ghost suddenly disappear from the house, Nora could probably back me up on that."
I click on the website and I'm suddenly welcomed by a grim picture of the Hotel Cortez, it's dark exterior really make a first impression. Something doesn't seem right about that place, the look was the start, but when I started to read, the "seem" really turns into a definite. The death-count is crazy; one-hundred and forty-nine known deaths in the hotel, and several missing persons reports from people that have gone in, and not come out. I'd never heard about this until today, no mentions of it anywhere, it was created by a man named James Patrick March, even the name makes him sound like a serial killer.

"Hey, guys! Look at this."
I watch my mom scoot over to me and Tate, sitting right beside us both, seemed a little uncomfortable at first, I haven't really been this close to my mom for a while.
"The Hotel Cortez? Sounds rather grim," my mother comments.
I look up at Tate, and his eyes were just staring at the place like he's seen it before or something like that. I move his blonde curls out of his eyes, startling him and making him look straight at me.
"You okay?" I ask him.
"Yeah, I just swear I've seen that place before. Maybe I was a kid, or I dreamt about it, I don't know. It's nothing, don't worry Vi, it's nothing."
"Jesus Christ, the death count is enormous!" my mom says. "If ghosts exist, we'd have a good chance of finding them there."
"Yeah, mom. If we could physically leave!"
"James Patrick March?" Tate says to himself. His voice was faint and quiet, I wouldn't have heard him if I wasn't so close to him. There something about this place that Tate doesn't like, I can feel all of that bad energy coming off of him. His eyes finally fell away from the words of the website, and I don't have to be psychic, to know that a Tate knows something about this place that we don't.