The Things We Couldn't Forget

Chapter 12.

"I'm gonna shoot you straight here, Missy." Kelsea holds her hands up in front of her, watching me like I'm a scared deer that might just dart into traffic if I get spooked. "You literally sound insane."

"I know!" I collapse back into the loveseat, my head leaned forward into my hands. "I know that I do, but too much doesn't make sense right now."

"Girl, you don't make sense." She tells me. "Everything else seems fine other than two girls dying. Which yeah, that's bad, but it's also life. You know? Stuff like this happens all the time, all over the world, from the freaking bible even."

"We aren't talking about Cane and Able right now." I sigh. "I'm telling you." I look up at her, hopping she can see the truth in my eyes. "They found the first girl's body in the exact same place as the first of my father's victims." I explain. "And the second one too."

Kelsea leans back against the wall and folds her hands over her chest. "Ok." She says, nodding. "That's freaking weird, but it's just-."

"Don't you dare say it's just a coincidence." I cut her off. "There is no way the first one was, much less two of them. I'm telling you, it's going to happen again. There is gonna be more."

"I know you believe that but-."

We both jump as another knock on the door makes us both share a look.

"It's probably reporters." I sigh. "Or the cops."

"Wait, why would the cops-."

I walk by here and look out of the peephole, but it isn't a reporter. At least, I don't think so. And it's definitely not a cop. Only, I don't know that for sure either.

I don't know what he is anymore.

What I do know is that the ghost on the other side of the door isn't like the ghosts of my parents I'd had the misfortune of conjuring in my mind last night.

This one...

This is one even my own twisted up brain wouldn't create to hurt myself.

I've avoided thoughts of this one more than anyone else.

Even my father.

"No." I whisper, backing away from the door but he just knocks again. "No, no, no." I mutter, going back to Kelsea.

"Who is it?" She asks me but I just shake my head.

"Ignore it."

"Who is it and maybe I will."

"Someone I cannot see right now." I hold my skull between my hands, pressing, trying to drown the world out but it's just too loud.

I can hear and feel everything and I hate it. I hate all of it. Every sensation is torturing me starting from my very blood that runs through me like a toxin, filling me up with this awful feeling.

It branches out through my body, seeping into the muscle and sinew, cracking my bones, squeezing my heart, shutting off my lungs. I feel it all. I feel the heat coursing through my body while I continue to shake and my teeth clatter together so hard I'm sure it will shake them loose from my jaw.

I don't want to be here.

I don't want to feel this.

I don't want to explain to Kelsea why I know what I know. I don't want to explain to her why we can't answer the door.

I don't want to do anything but get as far away from all of these emotions and all of this pain and all of this longing. I want to burrow into the back of my brain and hide there. I want to be free. I want to be nothing but I can't.