Haunted
I am haunted by the ghost of a man I once loved.
Like most of my evenings, I spent tonight sitting alone in the living room of our gaudy downtown row house, watching the fireplace as I awaited his inevitable return. I like to sit on the floor, just out of reach of the flames–not because of the warmth, but because part of me wants to climb inside of the smoky little space and allow the heat to melt me down to nothingness.
I gulped a second bottle of cheap wine hoping to numb myself from what was to come. The acrid taste stung my throat, but the booze wasn’t getting the job done. I could feel my hand tremble each time I pushed the open end of the bottle against my lips. I watched the flames cast shadows all around me, the dark little figures dancing with joy–mocking me with their festivities.
“Why me?” I asked no one. Deep down, I already knew the answer. I signed up for this. I am his prisoner, now and forever. I call Dad whenever I know I have a moment alone, and tonight I once again begged him to take me away. As usual, he scoffed in disappointment. He told me, “Lay off the drinking Mia, it’s making you hysterical. Get some sleep honey, tomorrow’s hangover is going to be a bitch.”
“Thanks Dad,” was all I could muster before hanging up.
My heart jumped as the grandfather clock chimed against the wall. I listened to its rings travel down the long hallway and through our kitchen. For a moment, my eyes were locked on the front door. I wanted to run away from this prison, away from his vile spirit. But then I remembered. I am forever cursed. No matter where I go, he will always find me.
An unexpected rush of tears fell from my face as the death knell filled the air.
RING…..RING…..RING
Then, there was only silence. I could feel his presence. He had returned.
His feet pounded against each step leading to the front door. I peeked through the living room window to get a look at the monster that I already knew was there. The tall man dressed in a long, black peacoat stood motionless, his aura already infecting the air around him. I noticed his neck twitch, but before I could step away from the window, his head had already spun in my direction. His gaze was unwavering. His eyes were black like ink.
The familiar grip of fear found me in that moment and I was unable to look away. An insidious smile spread his face apart as he wrapped his long fingers around the doorknob and twisted it open. I stood up and backed myself against the farthest wall I could find.
My legs turned numb, but my heart burned beneath my ribs. The dark figure entered the house, still holding the demented look on his face.
“Honey! I got off work early just to spend a little extra time with you tonight. Did you miss me?”
I knew he didn’t really want me to answer. I could already hear the hunger in his voice, seeping out between each labored breath. I did what I was supposed to. I slowly made my way up the stairs with my eyes set on the ground. Halfway up, I heard the front door shut and the lock click in place–I knew my chance to escape had passed.
At the top of the steps, I rounded the wooden railing and entered the bedroom. I could feel his cold gaze against my skin as his steps thundered behind me. I walked to the far end of the bedroom and leaned against the window. I took in the warm glow of the moon’s light.
For a moment, my mind flooded with hopes and dreams of one day being free of this curse, free of his grasp once and for all. But his ominous figure quickly metastasized in the window’s reflection, and my thought evaporated in an instant. He ripped the clothes from my body. I didn’t put up a fight. I never do.
“Get on the bed now,” he grumbled. I obeyed his demands and laid back, staring at the little chipped spot in the ceiling that always draws my eye. The pain was relentless. I patiently waited for the night to end.
