Andy
Tonight.
If I stumble, they’re going to eat me alive.”
- Help I’m Alive - Metric
Elizabeth picked up after the third ring in a reasonably cheerful tone, despite our history this afternoon.. “Hey... Ash, what’s up?... Let me guess, you’re calling me to rub more sand in the wound?”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose to funnel my annoyance into long, deep breaths. “No,” I reply with a hint of my underlying salty attitude. “I need your help with something, and you’re more than welcome to decline.”
She’s quiet for a moment while she thinks it over and finally responds. “It depends on what you need... But I’ll warn you now, Ash, if it’s about Reece in any shape or form, I will terminate this call now, so help me...”
“You’ve got it; no Reece. Anyways, you already know the basis of my predicament with the ghost boys,” I begin, slipping a glance at Andy, who’s standing nearby, looking like he’s lost in deep thought. “Can you help me with something?”
There was a short response before she responded. “Do I get to meet them?”
“Maybe.”
“Can I talk to them?”
“Can I come spend the night?” I interject, knowing full well that if I keep doing these cat-and-mouse questions with her.
"I mean... Isn't the polite way to go about this to be invited first?” She replies, semi-joking.
“I need to get away for the night, but my parents will be really suspicious if I just up and disappear.”
“...Why can’t you tell them where you’ll be?” She asks with a hint of suspicion and excitement to her tone. “And where will you be, exactly?”
When my pause grew too long for her liking, she sighed in annoyance. “You want my help, but you won’t tell me jackshit about how it is I can help you. I can’t read your mind, Ash, I do need need a story to explain your absence to both your parents and mine.”
After another lengthly pause, I sigh in irritation, annoyed by how this whole evening is turning out. If it weren’t for the dinner guest, we could totally be in and out with no issues. However, I can’t very well excuse myself from dinner and lock myself in my room to go to bed and six and not look incredibly suspicious. I need a good alibi on this.
“I know... You’re right. I won’t have a lot of time to explain, so bottom line is, we have some uh... Digging to do tonight.”
The pause that followed was longer than any leading up to that point, causing me to bite on my lip anxiously.
“Digging? What the hell does that mean?” She hissed in a low voice, trying to keep from losing her cool. I mentally went over what it would mean for me if she were to spout any of this to her friends, and worse, to Reece.
“You cannot tell ANYONE.” I hiss at her, my tone firm. “Not Mark, not your parents, and sure to fucking hell, not Reece. Do you understand? Elizabeth, if you let me down on this, I can’t trust you with anything else again, ever...”
I sigh and await her response.
“Well, it would make us fair, don’t you think?” She replies curtly, a hint of partial ignorance to her tone. “Your friends did attack and beat the shit out of my boyfriend.”
“After you spouted to your cousin about what I had just told you the night before! Ah, do we have a deal or not? If you can’t do it, tell me now so I can come up with something else equally as convincing.”
“What if I say no?”
“Then you’re off the hook and don’t have to worry.” I mutter, pacing from the window to my bed.
“What if I say no... And share the information you’ve just given me.”
I freeze in my tracks and hold my breath. “Elizabeth, you cannot do that.”
“Why not?” She laughs with mock innocence. “If I do, you can always punch me again.”
I feel the red hot anger begin to burn in my veins, and just as I’m about to say something more peaceful, the phone is snatched from my ear. I spin around and find Andy standing there, fuming in anger, phone to his ear.
“Listen here you ungrateful snitch, Ash has been overly kind to you despite all the trouble you’ve brought to her. She’s stayed on your side while you’ve been with that disgrace of a man, that fucking ape Reece... And this is how you thank her? You threaten and betray your friend, all because you have this petty issue with her over your asshole boyfriend? Yeah. We beat the shit out of your boyfriend, and lemme tell you this Eliza sweetie, I loved every damn second.”
His eyes narrowed, the dark shadows that gathered around his irises made them glow a deeper blue that felt so menacing just to look at. The tone he used was low and precise, each word throughly thought-out, their meaning sharp as blades as he said them.
“I’d reconsider my standing place in this arrangement if I were you.” He growled into the phone, “because you never know... Something terrible could happen to your beloved boyfriend... More than a few broken bones. If you value his life in any regard, be a decent human being and help your friend.”
He dropped my phone into my hand and went to sit in the windowsill, wearing an emotionless mask while he thought over what he’d said.
“Uh...” I hold the phone to my ear, expecting her to start screaming at me. “Eliza?”
When there was no response, I pull the phone from my ear to look at the screen, finding the ‘call ended’ notification on the screen.
I purse my lips and turn off the phone, tossing it onto my bed. “Well... We screwed the pooch on this one, didn’t we?”
“I over-did it a bit... Didn’t I?” He asks sheepishly, looking up at me. I smile and sigh, nodding slightly. “Not to worry, we’ll come up with something else...”
“What do you have in mind? We can’t go through any of the guys because your parents simply dispise them all. Who else can we rely on?” He puffed out his cheeks and heaved an obnoxious sigh, “Seems like we’e constantly having to come up with new ideas... We’ve already been screwed twice over today, and that’s not even including the variety of school incidents to choose from.”
I sigh slowly and nod in agreement. “Well, I guess I need to get through this dinner first of all... You can use my phone if you want... See if you can find someone else.”
I go to my closet and pick out one of my church dresses from the rack. it’s a knee-length antique white with simple straps and lace decorating the skirt. I take it with me to the bathroom to change and address my makeup.
I yank my brush through my hair, losing it twice in the tangles of green and black. Every time I’m facing myself in the mirror, I feel this strange wave of familiarity. Because every time I’m looking at myself, it’s almost always after a particuarly disappointing event.
I put on my eyeliner in my bedroom mirror the morning of Andy’s funeral, and I did my hair in this mirror the morning after the power outtage. I looked at myself in my bedroom mirror before I left that evening almost three weeks ago to join Black Veil Brides for their throwback show, where I was attacked by Ferguson... Oddly, nothing else has come from that event... I was never given the choice to press charges or discuss my options. In fact, my parents never brought up that horrible event after it happened.
Why?
I narrow my eyes at my cloned reflection and reach out towards it. My fingertips grazed the colf surface of the glass, dragging across it slowly, leaving behind snail-trails of smeared lines behind them.
“This room is real, at least...” I murmur to myself, quickly finishing up my touch ups.
I went back to my room to drop off my makeup, and was met by Andy in the hall, my phone in his hand, extended towards me. “It’s for you.”
I look at him in confusion and take the phone from his hand, examining the screen.
Elizabeth
“Hello?”
“Ash...” She sighed into the reciever. “I’m sorry. I have not been the best friend recently. I know you’ve been going through a lot recently, and it was definitely wrong of me to threaten those secrets against you.”
I’m shocked... Elizebeth seldom admits when she’s wrong or sorry, normally she tries to justify her actions, but this time she was admitting to the truth.
“It’s okay...” I murmur, looking around the hall to make sure we’re alone before tucking myself into my room, closing the door behind me. “I have not been the best friend to you, either... I mean, I can’t say you picked a killer boyfriend, but I also could have been more supportive of you.”
Andy was listening in, wearing a thoughtful expression. I sat at the edge of my bed and he took the inititive to grab a pair of heels from my closet that matched the dress, and placed them on the bedspread beside me. I smiled up at him appreciatevely.
“I know... But still... I am sorry, Ash... I don’t want this to be the end of our friendship, we’ve been together too long to let these turns of events break us up.”
I thought it over for a moment then spoke. “It’s okay... I forgive you, and in turn, I hope you can forgive me... And the other one that you had the good pleasure of speaking to.” I shot an amused, accusive glare at Andy, who stood with his chest puffed out proudly.
“I forgive you and him.” She laughs, “but Ash... Your friends can’t keep beating up Reece.”
I look up at him, “I am not their master... You’re going to have to take that up with them.”
There was a pause, then her voice came through excited, but hesitant. “So... When can I?”
I cock my head, a sly smile sliding across my face. “Well, if you’re free tonight...” I raise my eyebrows at Andy and listen for her answer.
“I’m down... It’ll give us a chance to talk things over properly, too.”
“Yeah... It will... I’ll leave in the next hour and half, but I won’t be at your house until much later.”
“The digging?”
“The digging.”
“Could I... Maybe tag along?”
I hesitate and look at Andy, shrugging. He frowns and thinks about it for a moment before sighing in defeat. “Yeah... Yeah... She can come.” He plops down in the plush pink recliner and crosses his ankles impatiently, awaiting the verdict.
“Well, the spirit has spoken... You’re in.”
“Awesome! Where are we going?”
“Do you have a shovel?”
“Yes?” She asks hesitantly, “why?”
“Because we’re going to the cemetery.”
“Ash! You can’t-”
“I’ll see you in a bit!” I say with a smile, “Loveee youuu.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, I end the call. If I hadn’t, I’d be listening through five minutes of her rambling about all the reason why we shouldn’t go to the cemetery at night... And she’d be right, and if the situation were any different, I wouldn’t be going there, especially not with the latest knowledge on the demon world... But our very existance is on the line, so we don’t have a lot of options.
“I’d best be getting downstairs...”
“Good luck,” he gave me a double thumbs up. “Just try not to blurt out that there’s demons after you... That’s not a great conversation starter, apparently.”
“Got it.” I shake my head, smiling slightly. “You and Ash can work out a plan on how to execute the escape. I’ll know when to leave when there’s a knock... So give or take forty-five minutes to an hour.”
“Can do.”
I exit my room, and take a deep breath, knowing full well that the worst would be coming later. I take a moment to collect myself, and decend the stairs into the foyer, then into the adjacent dining room down the hall.
“You look nice.” My Dad comments with a smile, setting down a vase of flowers in the center of the table that I recognize as the ones that were on the kitchen island.
Mom was busy in the kitchen, pulling a large glass dish from the oven and hissing difused curses as she burned her finger through the hole at the end of the oven mit.
When a chime echoed throughout the house, Dad placed the duty on my shoulders to handle the welcoming of our guest.
“Ash, can you get that?”
I nod and make my way into the hallway towards the front door, my heels clicking on the wood floor that transitioned into tile in the foyer. I still haven’t wrapped my head around the whole thing yet... Out of the blue with no real backstory, we were inviting our priest to dinner. That’s something my parent’s always chatted about doing, but never acted on, and now tonight, oddly, was the night for it.
I pulled open the door and smiled as convincingly as I could at Father Davis, who stood on our front porch, still wearing his white collar and black suit. His hands were in his pockets, and he had an angelic glow around him from the setting sun behind my neighbor’s houses across the street. He smiled back, “Hello, Asheen.”
“Hello, Father Davis, please come in.” I open the door wider and he slips past me into the house.
“How are you?” I ask, jumping onto the first small-conversation topic I could think of. In the back of my mind, is a small bit of panic that somehow, someway, the catholic priest had contacted mine and had tattled about my rather intrusive visit this afternoon with my spiritual companions.
“I am quite well, thank you for asking. How are you?” He responded while peeling off the bleak, black suit jacket he always wore, hanging it on the coatrack by the door.
I’m terrible. I might die of mysterious circumstances soon. I suffer from anxiety and nightmares and I feel a good douse of depression coming on to mix in with the pre-existing flaws of my mind to create an anxious mess that will soon reside in a padded room somewhere in Salt Lake City Mental Institute.
“I’m great,” I smile, “school’s been going really well, and I’m looking forward to prom this weekend.”
Liar.
“Oh, really? That’ll be exciting. Prom is one of those things you think about your whole young-adult life, then it’s over in an instant. Make sure to make the most of it... But not too much, you know?”
He shoots me one of those wise, knowing looks that adults tend to use when they want to breach difficult topics, but don’t exactly want to dive head first into them.
I nod, “of course.” I agree, thinking in the back of my mind all the trouble I might’ve found myself in if I were even going. I decided some time after the encounter with my Mom becoming a demon that I didn’t want to go to prom, and instead wanted to just explore the city with Andy the way we normally do... A plan that I have yet to let him in on. He seems like he’d be fine either way, but sooner or later I’ll have to express my thoughts and concerns to him.
“Do you have a date for the prom yet?” He wonders conversationally while I lead him down the hall towards the dining hall. I shrug a bit, “Yeah, a cousin of one of my friends offered to take me.”
He luckily doesn’t breach the topic any more, nor does he demand which cousin of which friend it was, which makes him quite an easy person to talk to... Especially when you’re trying to keep out of trouble with everyone around you.
The spotlight was taken off me as soon as we walked into the dining room. The air was filled with cheerful greetings and conversations, and everyone was so distracted that I was able to slip away into the background and mill over my plans for this evening.
First, I’d need a spare moment to tell my parents that I have a study meeting tonight, second, I’d need to wait appoximately one hour until that doorbell rings, signalling my time to leave. With any luck, my parents will just let me handle it and not want to see her.
Third, we’d make our way to Elizabeth and drop off all my convincing luggage that would give away that it was a simple overnight event. Then, we’d collect the shovels and trashbags, and make our way to Crowley Hill Cemetery where the bodies of Ashley and Andy lie.
That’s the part I’m really not looking forward to... It’s been almost a month since his death, and it’s definitely not going to be a pretty sight. We’d have to gather as many bodily samples off the bodies as we can... And with any luck, Juliet will contact me before we do that, saying that she got ahold of the witch’s jar from Andy’s old dorm.
Assuming luck has any love for us in it’s heart tonight, that is...
Nonetheless, this is the only way to put an end to the torment from the woods. We never should have disturbed that place, and to make matters worse, Andy traded knowledge for knowledge with them, making them wiser and keen on what needs to be done.
Another aspect of this plan to be worried about, is how on earth this is going to work correctly when we’re working from a tutorial off a Wiccan website. I definitely would feel better about it if we had a good, hard copy of those spells and trinkets, but thanks to that woman at the grocery store, we’re screwed out of that one.
“Ash, can you get the water pitcher from the kitchen?”
I nod and slither through the gap between the chairs and the wall to get into the kitchen. I scan the counter, but do not see any pitcher... Must be in the fridge. I reach for the handle, but a sticky note on the front of the fridge catches my attention.
Go to grocery store on Thursday, get eggs
I raise an eyebrow and an idea begins to form in my head. This little venture provides the perfect cover to talk to that woman, and figure out what the hell her problem is... Or maybe there’s the tiny chance that she merely sent us home with the wrong book.
I grab the pitcher from the fridge and bring it into the dining room, setting it down near the center of the table, and getting near my mother’s side. My Dad is busy chatting with Father Davis.
“Hey Mom, do you mind if I tag along to the grocery store tomorrow?”
“Don’t you have school?” She raises an eyebrow at me to go with her sarcastic tone. “Oh, sure. We don’t hang out much anymore... We can go once you get home tomorrow, if that works for you?”
I nod and continue feeding in the rest of my plan into the conversation while I’ve got it going. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I’m going over to Elizabeth’s for the night to study... If that’s okay? I’ll just catch the bus with her in the morning.”
“That’s fine... When are you leaving?”
“In about an hour... I didn’t know we were having company tonight.”
She gets a small smile on her face and whispers back “I didn’t, either... He has a thing for bringing random people home for dinner.” She laughs quietly and finishes up decorating the table, and excuses herself from the conversation.
Short as it was, it reminded me of how much I missed these small conversations with my parents. They’re far and few these days, and when we do interact, it always inevitably reverts to talking about CC and the guys and how my parents feel about them, and I always have to try and steer clear of that iceberg.
Before much else can be said, Dad is declaring we all take a seat. I sit to my Mother’s right, with my Dad at the head of the table, with Father Davis on his other side. Andy and Ashley haven’t shown up, and I’m oddly relieved. With them around, doing harmless but hilarious pranks to unsuspecting guests, it makes it incredibly hard to keep straight faced and looking sane.
Father Davis has already made himself comfortable, and is retelling a story of something that had happened to him the previous week while he was doing some errands at the church. I keep my head down, and keep quiet. This may be the only way I’ll get through the night in one piece without raising any unnecessary suspicion.
They talk about a variety of things, from the flood to the potential candidates for the next election. A few times, Father Davis politely asked me questions about how school was going and what my favorite subjects were.
“What about gym?” he asks while pushing another spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate, his eyes flickering from me to the mushy white concoction.
“It’s alright,” I shrug, rolling a radish slice around on my plate with the end of my fork. “I tend to get injured in some fashion or another every time I attempt it... I’m not sure how knowing how to play volleyball is going to help me later in life.” I attempt a joke; but no one laughs. Father Davis looks at me blankly for a few seconds before pulling it together with a forced, awkward chuckle.
I know him to be a man of very few words... And he’s terrible at average conversation unless we’re talking about the church or God; those are two things he’s an expert on. It seems that my boring high school tales have him grasping at straws trying to relate to me.
“Well, I’m sure you’re learning teamwork skills,” He smiles, running out of things to add. I’m just hoping one of my parents take over the conversation before it gets more awkward.
“Yeah, and that’s a good thing to have... I just wish there weren’t so many bullies at the school.”
That grips his attention, and my parent’s eyes flicker briefly in my direction. My Dad laughs in embarrassment, and looks like he’s mentally searching every corner of his mind for some simple question to ask Father Davis to redirect the conversation.
“Oh, bullies, huh?” He says, his tone wise and vaugely disappointed. “Like who?”
“Oh... Just this kid,” I respond dismissively, not really seeing the harm in sharing a tiny bit of info. “His name is Reece; he has this thing for attacking me and my friends. He hit me in the face this morning with a volleyball, actually... One more reason to hate the sport. He’s constantly on our case, and I think...” I stop and bite down on my lip to silence myself before I say too much. I mean, I do think Reece beats Elizabeth, but without blatant evidence, I can’t prove it.
“...Reece did that?” He asks, looking even more disappointed, and even upset.
“Yes?” I hesitate, confused as to why he would care so much for one kid. “...Why?”
“Reece is my step-son.” He sighs, looking perplexed, “My wife had him before we got married... If I had any clue that that was what he was up to...”
He didn’t say he was going to whoop his ass or even make him apologize... He just continued to look disappointed. Though, I suppose that how he handles his son isn’t really my business... But, I do want to know.
“Well... What can you say? Kid’s will be kids.” My Dad laughs, and proceeds to redirect the conversation. One one hand, I’m relieved. But on the other, I don’t appreciate my case of being bullied just kids being kids.
Father Davis recovered quickly, and my parents started talking more about the church comittee. I sunk into silence gratefully, just wanting nothing more than to seep into my private thoughts. I looked up at the clock, and the time was getting close.
However, that quiet, timid relief is short-lived, because my Dad calls on me to tell a story, and unfortunately, it’s not one of my favorites. It’s a tale too recent in my memory, and I’ll have to revisit it all again tonight while we dig up the bones of my cold true love.
“Ash is pretty familiar with choir and singing performances, she actually sang a few songs at the funeral of Chris and Amy Biersack’s son. I think she did a lovely job, it was a nice tribute.”
Thou shalt not boast. I think sarcastically.
“Did you know him? The Biersack’s son?” Father Davis redirects his full, undivided attention to me, and I start feeling uneasy. The one topic I wanted to avoid tonight was coming back in strikingly colorful Technicolor.
You have no idea...
“No, actually, I didn’t... His uncle visited me the night before and asked if I could perform one of the songs from his old band.”
Father Davis seemed genuinely interested until my follow-up sentence.
“Oh, really? He had a band? What were they called?”
“Black Veil Brides.” I respond with a prideful nod, knowing from the way the corners of his mouth pulled down that that title displeased him.
“Oh... Really?” He says, trying really hard to maintain the previous enthusiasm.
“Yeah, they’re quite good. His band continues to play every now and again.”
“Oh, I know...” He says, this time with a bittered frown of distaste, “I’ve prayed for them before.”
I cock an eyebrow at him in confusion. “Pray? What do you mean?”
“That they’ll find God, and with him, find peace.” He says, looking like he fully believes every word he says... Like there’s no such thing as having an identity for yourself or self expression. If you wear black and sing darker songs, you must be satanic by association.
“Why would they need peace?” I hedge forward, feeling more annoyed with how this conversation was twisting.
“Because if anyone is singing about being in love with a mortician’s daughter, or how death is a welcomed feeling, there must be something dark brewing in their brains.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s something he’s recited countless times.
“Doesn’t everyone deserve love?” I semi-joke, “Even the mortician’s daughters and people who have lived troubled lives? Love thy neighbor and all.”
He snorts a bit, and that’s the last twist of the knife for me. I really don’t need to have two seperate arguements with priests in one day. “Love thy neighbor, of course... But there’s not much to be done for a blasphemer. There’s raw, unbridled sin burning in the veins of such individuals.”
I look at my Dad, and his look is telling me to shut up. I lower my head and bite hard on my lip, trying to divert away the anger and annoyance before it causes a major problem.
Then, like a God send, the doorbell rings. I rise from the table and set aside my napkin and smooth out the skirt of my dress with a polite smile that burns my cheeks to wear, I say “It’s been wonderful seeing you, Father, but school work calls.”
I abandon the table and head for the door, grabbing one of my shabby hoodies by the wall on my way out. On the front porch, stands Andy, holding one of my small canvas overnight bags with a proud smile.
“I took the liberty of packing you some jeans for tonight, since the chilly air of a midnight cemetery is no place for a chilly church dress.” He shoots an adverted glance at th ridiculous dress I’d put on for Father Know-It-All. I sigh and take it.
“Thanks,”I offer him a small smile. “I love how my parents didn’t say shit for the entirety of that conversation.”
“That’s what parents do,” he shrugs, his Prophet jacket materializing out of thin air, levitating in front of him until he pushed his lanky arms through the sleeves and pulled it on. “they deny you any peace and security until you’re left with nothing but bitter, resentful options. I know my teenage life could have been more enjoyable had my parents made an effort.” He frowns a bit, but keeps kind eyes.
“Anyways, might as well get a move on. Oh, and here’s your phone.”
“Anything new from Juliet?”
“About that...” he winces, “she said that the place was cleared out when they got in.”
“She had the right number?”
“Yeah, even had security open it for her. Nothing... So either my parents snuck off sometime this week to do it, or they just threw everything out.”
“How did she convince security to let her in?” I wonder in confusion. “If they’re any kind of realistic security, they’d never do that.”
“She told them she was my fiancee, and even had some obnoxious diamond ring to pull it together.”
“They didn’t need more proof than a stone on a silver band?”
“No, because she planned for that... She saw it, you know.” he snickers, “She’s got this big, burly best friend who works as a bouncer at one of the underground clubs in Berkeley. Anyways, he’s also a skilled computer hacker and graphic designer... Don’t ask. He photoshopped a convincing engagement photo and selfies of us together.”
“That’s sweet.” I muse before I realize I’ve said it. I wasn’t commenting on the power of friendship at all... But the mental images I got of Andy and Juliet in a legitimate relationship, engaged and all. They would have been nothing short of adorable together.
“What do you mean?” He asks with a puzzled expression.
“Oh... I just think you two were probably pretty cute together... I can see you with her.”
He’s quiet for a bit, his expression thoughtful. “Well... Things were good for a long time. But as her abilities started to manifest, she became unhinged... Understandably so, because how would you feel if a numb buzzing in the back of your head turned into full-fledged voices humming around you? She was distraught and inconsolable. It ate at her and she tried to understand it.... Mostly alone, because I’d be off doing something else. Admittedly, I didn’t believe in the supernatural back then. I’d look at her, and all I could see was my girlfriend going insane, and instead of being there for her, I worked long hours and kept myself away for as long as I could manage.”
I look up and finally notice Ashley’s presence, several yards ahead of us, maintaining a slow and daunting pace.
“”Anyways, we broke up around the time she started seeking help for her condition. And now, she’s a skilled fortune teller and medium.”
He gets this sort of wistful smile on his face, and I can see the memories of his past life dancing in his irises. He’s happy for her, proud, even.... And that fills me with unimagineable joy.
I’ve never been the jealous type, and I suppose that contributes to why I don’t care that he used to be in a very commited relationship. I don’t care that he’s loved other people, and if he should ever go on to love someone else, then so be it. I’m the kind of person who’s always cheering on everyone else’s happiness while finding little for myself. But emotionally, it doesn’t feel that way... I’m always just genuinely happy for those who are happy.
“And anyway, I was an ass to her. So when she told me she didn’t want to be with me anymore, I felt both relieved and oddly agreeing. I would not have wanted to be with myself, either... Even then, even after hitting gold in California, I still had this angsty vein of anger and doubt burning in me.”
“And now?” I challenge.
“Now it’s just dull flame,” he responds, frowning a bit. “It’s a lot different when you lack a body to carve a path of destruction with.”
And he’s right... Even since we first met, he’s changed. Evolved, even... He was more outgoing, and ecstatic about everything... I think now the weight of what happened has finally settled in, and he may be reforming into someone new and different... Perhaps even someone bitter and distant.
“Hey love-shits, pick it up,” Ashley calls out from ahead, throwing a semi-sarcastic grin over his shoulder at us. Still, something underlying in his body language suggested that he was feeling legitimate annoyance.
The topic fell into retirement, and we continued to make our way towards Elizbeth’s house. As the sunlight faded, the low breeze picked up a bit, reminding me once again that chilly spring evenings are no place for dresses.
“I guess I’ll have to dig into my past tonight.” Andy says after a bit, only semi-jokingly. “I’m not exactly shaking pom poms over the fact that I have to exhume myself.”
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say about that.” I admit, “I mean... I’ve never had to comfort someone through the grieving process of digging up their own corpse... So this is a first for me, too.”
He offers a saddened half smile.
~~~
I alone knocked on Elizabeth’s front door. My invisible comrads hung back a bit, hanging onto the more suspicious items we’d brought along. Within a few seconds, Elizabeth herself answered the door and ushered me in. I noticed her peek back out onto the porch for my ghostly guests, then turn to me with evident disappointment on her face.
“Don’t worry,” I reassure her in a hushed whisper. “they’re here.”
A prided, excited smile spreads across her face and she shuts the front door. Her Dad poked his head in the room to say hi, then returned to his rerun of a college sports game.
“Right... We’re on our own for the evening. Right this way.”
She leads the way up the staircase to her room, my memory clashing with the darker one from the previous week when we’d had our little brawl.
“So...” She begins when we’ve locked ourselves in her room. “Do tell.”
“First and foremost, do I have to explain the guidelines again, or do you fully and unconditionally understand the terms of this agreement?” I demand, dropping my overnight bag to the floor and crossing my arms.
“I agree 100%. I solemnly swear not to tell anyone, even my cat.”
I hesitate for a moment, a bit put off by her enthusiasm, but continue anyways. “Well... When I show them to you, you cannot exclaim or cause any kind of commotion that could result in your parents checking in. Got that?”
She nods feverishly.
“Also... Understand that you cannot understand everything about them. What you see at face value is what you get. They don’t fly, they don’t sparkle and they’re not shapeshifters. They’re simply supernatural human beings.”
She nods quickly again.
“Any questions whatsoever?” I hedge, gesturing for her to get them out of her system now if she has them.
“Oh, only a crap ton... Let’s get on with it.”
“First, let’s recap. Recite the rules.”
“Ash...” She begins to whine.
“Eliza.” I snap, jerking my jaw to the side to give her a firm look. “The rules.”
She groans, but complies. “Right... Cannot tell anyone, cannot panick or cause a fit, understand that for the most part... They’re perfectly normal.”
I wait a moment, then reluctantly nod. Unfortunately, the only way this plan will work seamlessly is with her cooperation.
“Alright... Alright...” I look her in the eye for a long moments. “I guess, I give you my ghost friends.”
- Help I’m Alive - Metric
Elizabeth picked up after the third ring in a reasonably cheerful tone, despite our history this afternoon.. “Hey... Ash, what’s up?... Let me guess, you’re calling me to rub more sand in the wound?”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose to funnel my annoyance into long, deep breaths. “No,” I reply with a hint of my underlying salty attitude. “I need your help with something, and you’re more than welcome to decline.”
She’s quiet for a moment while she thinks it over and finally responds. “It depends on what you need... But I’ll warn you now, Ash, if it’s about Reece in any shape or form, I will terminate this call now, so help me...”
“You’ve got it; no Reece. Anyways, you already know the basis of my predicament with the ghost boys,” I begin, slipping a glance at Andy, who’s standing nearby, looking like he’s lost in deep thought. “Can you help me with something?”
There was a short response before she responded. “Do I get to meet them?”
“Maybe.”
“Can I talk to them?”
“Can I come spend the night?” I interject, knowing full well that if I keep doing these cat-and-mouse questions with her.
"I mean... Isn't the polite way to go about this to be invited first?” She replies, semi-joking.
“I need to get away for the night, but my parents will be really suspicious if I just up and disappear.”
“...Why can’t you tell them where you’ll be?” She asks with a hint of suspicion and excitement to her tone. “And where will you be, exactly?”
When my pause grew too long for her liking, she sighed in annoyance. “You want my help, but you won’t tell me jackshit about how it is I can help you. I can’t read your mind, Ash, I do need need a story to explain your absence to both your parents and mine.”
After another lengthly pause, I sigh in irritation, annoyed by how this whole evening is turning out. If it weren’t for the dinner guest, we could totally be in and out with no issues. However, I can’t very well excuse myself from dinner and lock myself in my room to go to bed and six and not look incredibly suspicious. I need a good alibi on this.
“I know... You’re right. I won’t have a lot of time to explain, so bottom line is, we have some uh... Digging to do tonight.”
The pause that followed was longer than any leading up to that point, causing me to bite on my lip anxiously.
“Digging? What the hell does that mean?” She hissed in a low voice, trying to keep from losing her cool. I mentally went over what it would mean for me if she were to spout any of this to her friends, and worse, to Reece.
“You cannot tell ANYONE.” I hiss at her, my tone firm. “Not Mark, not your parents, and sure to fucking hell, not Reece. Do you understand? Elizabeth, if you let me down on this, I can’t trust you with anything else again, ever...”
I sigh and await her response.
“Well, it would make us fair, don’t you think?” She replies curtly, a hint of partial ignorance to her tone. “Your friends did attack and beat the shit out of my boyfriend.”
“After you spouted to your cousin about what I had just told you the night before! Ah, do we have a deal or not? If you can’t do it, tell me now so I can come up with something else equally as convincing.”
“What if I say no?”
“Then you’re off the hook and don’t have to worry.” I mutter, pacing from the window to my bed.
“What if I say no... And share the information you’ve just given me.”
I freeze in my tracks and hold my breath. “Elizabeth, you cannot do that.”
“Why not?” She laughs with mock innocence. “If I do, you can always punch me again.”
I feel the red hot anger begin to burn in my veins, and just as I’m about to say something more peaceful, the phone is snatched from my ear. I spin around and find Andy standing there, fuming in anger, phone to his ear.
“Listen here you ungrateful snitch, Ash has been overly kind to you despite all the trouble you’ve brought to her. She’s stayed on your side while you’ve been with that disgrace of a man, that fucking ape Reece... And this is how you thank her? You threaten and betray your friend, all because you have this petty issue with her over your asshole boyfriend? Yeah. We beat the shit out of your boyfriend, and lemme tell you this Eliza sweetie, I loved every damn second.”
His eyes narrowed, the dark shadows that gathered around his irises made them glow a deeper blue that felt so menacing just to look at. The tone he used was low and precise, each word throughly thought-out, their meaning sharp as blades as he said them.
“I’d reconsider my standing place in this arrangement if I were you.” He growled into the phone, “because you never know... Something terrible could happen to your beloved boyfriend... More than a few broken bones. If you value his life in any regard, be a decent human being and help your friend.”
He dropped my phone into my hand and went to sit in the windowsill, wearing an emotionless mask while he thought over what he’d said.
“Uh...” I hold the phone to my ear, expecting her to start screaming at me. “Eliza?”
When there was no response, I pull the phone from my ear to look at the screen, finding the ‘call ended’ notification on the screen.
I purse my lips and turn off the phone, tossing it onto my bed. “Well... We screwed the pooch on this one, didn’t we?”
“I over-did it a bit... Didn’t I?” He asks sheepishly, looking up at me. I smile and sigh, nodding slightly. “Not to worry, we’ll come up with something else...”
“What do you have in mind? We can’t go through any of the guys because your parents simply dispise them all. Who else can we rely on?” He puffed out his cheeks and heaved an obnoxious sigh, “Seems like we’e constantly having to come up with new ideas... We’ve already been screwed twice over today, and that’s not even including the variety of school incidents to choose from.”
I sigh slowly and nod in agreement. “Well, I guess I need to get through this dinner first of all... You can use my phone if you want... See if you can find someone else.”
I go to my closet and pick out one of my church dresses from the rack. it’s a knee-length antique white with simple straps and lace decorating the skirt. I take it with me to the bathroom to change and address my makeup.
I yank my brush through my hair, losing it twice in the tangles of green and black. Every time I’m facing myself in the mirror, I feel this strange wave of familiarity. Because every time I’m looking at myself, it’s almost always after a particuarly disappointing event.
I put on my eyeliner in my bedroom mirror the morning of Andy’s funeral, and I did my hair in this mirror the morning after the power outtage. I looked at myself in my bedroom mirror before I left that evening almost three weeks ago to join Black Veil Brides for their throwback show, where I was attacked by Ferguson... Oddly, nothing else has come from that event... I was never given the choice to press charges or discuss my options. In fact, my parents never brought up that horrible event after it happened.
Why?
I narrow my eyes at my cloned reflection and reach out towards it. My fingertips grazed the colf surface of the glass, dragging across it slowly, leaving behind snail-trails of smeared lines behind them.
“This room is real, at least...” I murmur to myself, quickly finishing up my touch ups.
I went back to my room to drop off my makeup, and was met by Andy in the hall, my phone in his hand, extended towards me. “It’s for you.”
I look at him in confusion and take the phone from his hand, examining the screen.
Elizabeth
“Hello?”
“Ash...” She sighed into the reciever. “I’m sorry. I have not been the best friend recently. I know you’ve been going through a lot recently, and it was definitely wrong of me to threaten those secrets against you.”
I’m shocked... Elizebeth seldom admits when she’s wrong or sorry, normally she tries to justify her actions, but this time she was admitting to the truth.
“It’s okay...” I murmur, looking around the hall to make sure we’re alone before tucking myself into my room, closing the door behind me. “I have not been the best friend to you, either... I mean, I can’t say you picked a killer boyfriend, but I also could have been more supportive of you.”
Andy was listening in, wearing a thoughtful expression. I sat at the edge of my bed and he took the inititive to grab a pair of heels from my closet that matched the dress, and placed them on the bedspread beside me. I smiled up at him appreciatevely.
“I know... But still... I am sorry, Ash... I don’t want this to be the end of our friendship, we’ve been together too long to let these turns of events break us up.”
I thought it over for a moment then spoke. “It’s okay... I forgive you, and in turn, I hope you can forgive me... And the other one that you had the good pleasure of speaking to.” I shot an amused, accusive glare at Andy, who stood with his chest puffed out proudly.
“I forgive you and him.” She laughs, “but Ash... Your friends can’t keep beating up Reece.”
I look up at him, “I am not their master... You’re going to have to take that up with them.”
There was a pause, then her voice came through excited, but hesitant. “So... When can I?”
I cock my head, a sly smile sliding across my face. “Well, if you’re free tonight...” I raise my eyebrows at Andy and listen for her answer.
“I’m down... It’ll give us a chance to talk things over properly, too.”
“Yeah... It will... I’ll leave in the next hour and half, but I won’t be at your house until much later.”
“The digging?”
“The digging.”
“Could I... Maybe tag along?”
I hesitate and look at Andy, shrugging. He frowns and thinks about it for a moment before sighing in defeat. “Yeah... Yeah... She can come.” He plops down in the plush pink recliner and crosses his ankles impatiently, awaiting the verdict.
“Well, the spirit has spoken... You’re in.”
“Awesome! Where are we going?”
“Do you have a shovel?”
“Yes?” She asks hesitantly, “why?”
“Because we’re going to the cemetery.”
“Ash! You can’t-”
“I’ll see you in a bit!” I say with a smile, “Loveee youuu.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, I end the call. If I hadn’t, I’d be listening through five minutes of her rambling about all the reason why we shouldn’t go to the cemetery at night... And she’d be right, and if the situation were any different, I wouldn’t be going there, especially not with the latest knowledge on the demon world... But our very existance is on the line, so we don’t have a lot of options.
“I’d best be getting downstairs...”
“Good luck,” he gave me a double thumbs up. “Just try not to blurt out that there’s demons after you... That’s not a great conversation starter, apparently.”
“Got it.” I shake my head, smiling slightly. “You and Ash can work out a plan on how to execute the escape. I’ll know when to leave when there’s a knock... So give or take forty-five minutes to an hour.”
“Can do.”
I exit my room, and take a deep breath, knowing full well that the worst would be coming later. I take a moment to collect myself, and decend the stairs into the foyer, then into the adjacent dining room down the hall.
“You look nice.” My Dad comments with a smile, setting down a vase of flowers in the center of the table that I recognize as the ones that were on the kitchen island.
Mom was busy in the kitchen, pulling a large glass dish from the oven and hissing difused curses as she burned her finger through the hole at the end of the oven mit.
When a chime echoed throughout the house, Dad placed the duty on my shoulders to handle the welcoming of our guest.
“Ash, can you get that?”
I nod and make my way into the hallway towards the front door, my heels clicking on the wood floor that transitioned into tile in the foyer. I still haven’t wrapped my head around the whole thing yet... Out of the blue with no real backstory, we were inviting our priest to dinner. That’s something my parent’s always chatted about doing, but never acted on, and now tonight, oddly, was the night for it.
I pulled open the door and smiled as convincingly as I could at Father Davis, who stood on our front porch, still wearing his white collar and black suit. His hands were in his pockets, and he had an angelic glow around him from the setting sun behind my neighbor’s houses across the street. He smiled back, “Hello, Asheen.”
“Hello, Father Davis, please come in.” I open the door wider and he slips past me into the house.
“How are you?” I ask, jumping onto the first small-conversation topic I could think of. In the back of my mind, is a small bit of panic that somehow, someway, the catholic priest had contacted mine and had tattled about my rather intrusive visit this afternoon with my spiritual companions.
“I am quite well, thank you for asking. How are you?” He responded while peeling off the bleak, black suit jacket he always wore, hanging it on the coatrack by the door.
I’m terrible. I might die of mysterious circumstances soon. I suffer from anxiety and nightmares and I feel a good douse of depression coming on to mix in with the pre-existing flaws of my mind to create an anxious mess that will soon reside in a padded room somewhere in Salt Lake City Mental Institute.
“I’m great,” I smile, “school’s been going really well, and I’m looking forward to prom this weekend.”
Liar.
“Oh, really? That’ll be exciting. Prom is one of those things you think about your whole young-adult life, then it’s over in an instant. Make sure to make the most of it... But not too much, you know?”
He shoots me one of those wise, knowing looks that adults tend to use when they want to breach difficult topics, but don’t exactly want to dive head first into them.
I nod, “of course.” I agree, thinking in the back of my mind all the trouble I might’ve found myself in if I were even going. I decided some time after the encounter with my Mom becoming a demon that I didn’t want to go to prom, and instead wanted to just explore the city with Andy the way we normally do... A plan that I have yet to let him in on. He seems like he’d be fine either way, but sooner or later I’ll have to express my thoughts and concerns to him.
“Do you have a date for the prom yet?” He wonders conversationally while I lead him down the hall towards the dining hall. I shrug a bit, “Yeah, a cousin of one of my friends offered to take me.”
He luckily doesn’t breach the topic any more, nor does he demand which cousin of which friend it was, which makes him quite an easy person to talk to... Especially when you’re trying to keep out of trouble with everyone around you.
The spotlight was taken off me as soon as we walked into the dining room. The air was filled with cheerful greetings and conversations, and everyone was so distracted that I was able to slip away into the background and mill over my plans for this evening.
First, I’d need a spare moment to tell my parents that I have a study meeting tonight, second, I’d need to wait appoximately one hour until that doorbell rings, signalling my time to leave. With any luck, my parents will just let me handle it and not want to see her.
Third, we’d make our way to Elizabeth and drop off all my convincing luggage that would give away that it was a simple overnight event. Then, we’d collect the shovels and trashbags, and make our way to Crowley Hill Cemetery where the bodies of Ashley and Andy lie.
That’s the part I’m really not looking forward to... It’s been almost a month since his death, and it’s definitely not going to be a pretty sight. We’d have to gather as many bodily samples off the bodies as we can... And with any luck, Juliet will contact me before we do that, saying that she got ahold of the witch’s jar from Andy’s old dorm.
Assuming luck has any love for us in it’s heart tonight, that is...
Nonetheless, this is the only way to put an end to the torment from the woods. We never should have disturbed that place, and to make matters worse, Andy traded knowledge for knowledge with them, making them wiser and keen on what needs to be done.
Another aspect of this plan to be worried about, is how on earth this is going to work correctly when we’re working from a tutorial off a Wiccan website. I definitely would feel better about it if we had a good, hard copy of those spells and trinkets, but thanks to that woman at the grocery store, we’re screwed out of that one.
“Ash, can you get the water pitcher from the kitchen?”
I nod and slither through the gap between the chairs and the wall to get into the kitchen. I scan the counter, but do not see any pitcher... Must be in the fridge. I reach for the handle, but a sticky note on the front of the fridge catches my attention.
Go to grocery store on Thursday, get eggs
I raise an eyebrow and an idea begins to form in my head. This little venture provides the perfect cover to talk to that woman, and figure out what the hell her problem is... Or maybe there’s the tiny chance that she merely sent us home with the wrong book.
I grab the pitcher from the fridge and bring it into the dining room, setting it down near the center of the table, and getting near my mother’s side. My Dad is busy chatting with Father Davis.
“Hey Mom, do you mind if I tag along to the grocery store tomorrow?”
“Don’t you have school?” She raises an eyebrow at me to go with her sarcastic tone. “Oh, sure. We don’t hang out much anymore... We can go once you get home tomorrow, if that works for you?”
I nod and continue feeding in the rest of my plan into the conversation while I’ve got it going. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I’m going over to Elizabeth’s for the night to study... If that’s okay? I’ll just catch the bus with her in the morning.”
“That’s fine... When are you leaving?”
“In about an hour... I didn’t know we were having company tonight.”
She gets a small smile on her face and whispers back “I didn’t, either... He has a thing for bringing random people home for dinner.” She laughs quietly and finishes up decorating the table, and excuses herself from the conversation.
Short as it was, it reminded me of how much I missed these small conversations with my parents. They’re far and few these days, and when we do interact, it always inevitably reverts to talking about CC and the guys and how my parents feel about them, and I always have to try and steer clear of that iceberg.
Before much else can be said, Dad is declaring we all take a seat. I sit to my Mother’s right, with my Dad at the head of the table, with Father Davis on his other side. Andy and Ashley haven’t shown up, and I’m oddly relieved. With them around, doing harmless but hilarious pranks to unsuspecting guests, it makes it incredibly hard to keep straight faced and looking sane.
Father Davis has already made himself comfortable, and is retelling a story of something that had happened to him the previous week while he was doing some errands at the church. I keep my head down, and keep quiet. This may be the only way I’ll get through the night in one piece without raising any unnecessary suspicion.
They talk about a variety of things, from the flood to the potential candidates for the next election. A few times, Father Davis politely asked me questions about how school was going and what my favorite subjects were.
“What about gym?” he asks while pushing another spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate, his eyes flickering from me to the mushy white concoction.
“It’s alright,” I shrug, rolling a radish slice around on my plate with the end of my fork. “I tend to get injured in some fashion or another every time I attempt it... I’m not sure how knowing how to play volleyball is going to help me later in life.” I attempt a joke; but no one laughs. Father Davis looks at me blankly for a few seconds before pulling it together with a forced, awkward chuckle.
I know him to be a man of very few words... And he’s terrible at average conversation unless we’re talking about the church or God; those are two things he’s an expert on. It seems that my boring high school tales have him grasping at straws trying to relate to me.
“Well, I’m sure you’re learning teamwork skills,” He smiles, running out of things to add. I’m just hoping one of my parents take over the conversation before it gets more awkward.
“Yeah, and that’s a good thing to have... I just wish there weren’t so many bullies at the school.”
That grips his attention, and my parent’s eyes flicker briefly in my direction. My Dad laughs in embarrassment, and looks like he’s mentally searching every corner of his mind for some simple question to ask Father Davis to redirect the conversation.
“Oh, bullies, huh?” He says, his tone wise and vaugely disappointed. “Like who?”
“Oh... Just this kid,” I respond dismissively, not really seeing the harm in sharing a tiny bit of info. “His name is Reece; he has this thing for attacking me and my friends. He hit me in the face this morning with a volleyball, actually... One more reason to hate the sport. He’s constantly on our case, and I think...” I stop and bite down on my lip to silence myself before I say too much. I mean, I do think Reece beats Elizabeth, but without blatant evidence, I can’t prove it.
“...Reece did that?” He asks, looking even more disappointed, and even upset.
“Yes?” I hesitate, confused as to why he would care so much for one kid. “...Why?”
“Reece is my step-son.” He sighs, looking perplexed, “My wife had him before we got married... If I had any clue that that was what he was up to...”
He didn’t say he was going to whoop his ass or even make him apologize... He just continued to look disappointed. Though, I suppose that how he handles his son isn’t really my business... But, I do want to know.
“Well... What can you say? Kid’s will be kids.” My Dad laughs, and proceeds to redirect the conversation. One one hand, I’m relieved. But on the other, I don’t appreciate my case of being bullied just kids being kids.
Father Davis recovered quickly, and my parents started talking more about the church comittee. I sunk into silence gratefully, just wanting nothing more than to seep into my private thoughts. I looked up at the clock, and the time was getting close.
However, that quiet, timid relief is short-lived, because my Dad calls on me to tell a story, and unfortunately, it’s not one of my favorites. It’s a tale too recent in my memory, and I’ll have to revisit it all again tonight while we dig up the bones of my cold true love.
“Ash is pretty familiar with choir and singing performances, she actually sang a few songs at the funeral of Chris and Amy Biersack’s son. I think she did a lovely job, it was a nice tribute.”
Thou shalt not boast. I think sarcastically.
“Did you know him? The Biersack’s son?” Father Davis redirects his full, undivided attention to me, and I start feeling uneasy. The one topic I wanted to avoid tonight was coming back in strikingly colorful Technicolor.
You have no idea...
“No, actually, I didn’t... His uncle visited me the night before and asked if I could perform one of the songs from his old band.”
Father Davis seemed genuinely interested until my follow-up sentence.
“Oh, really? He had a band? What were they called?”
“Black Veil Brides.” I respond with a prideful nod, knowing from the way the corners of his mouth pulled down that that title displeased him.
“Oh... Really?” He says, trying really hard to maintain the previous enthusiasm.
“Yeah, they’re quite good. His band continues to play every now and again.”
“Oh, I know...” He says, this time with a bittered frown of distaste, “I’ve prayed for them before.”
I cock an eyebrow at him in confusion. “Pray? What do you mean?”
“That they’ll find God, and with him, find peace.” He says, looking like he fully believes every word he says... Like there’s no such thing as having an identity for yourself or self expression. If you wear black and sing darker songs, you must be satanic by association.
“Why would they need peace?” I hedge forward, feeling more annoyed with how this conversation was twisting.
“Because if anyone is singing about being in love with a mortician’s daughter, or how death is a welcomed feeling, there must be something dark brewing in their brains.”
He says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s something he’s recited countless times.
“Doesn’t everyone deserve love?” I semi-joke, “Even the mortician’s daughters and people who have lived troubled lives? Love thy neighbor and all.”
He snorts a bit, and that’s the last twist of the knife for me. I really don’t need to have two seperate arguements with priests in one day. “Love thy neighbor, of course... But there’s not much to be done for a blasphemer. There’s raw, unbridled sin burning in the veins of such individuals.”
I look at my Dad, and his look is telling me to shut up. I lower my head and bite hard on my lip, trying to divert away the anger and annoyance before it causes a major problem.
Then, like a God send, the doorbell rings. I rise from the table and set aside my napkin and smooth out the skirt of my dress with a polite smile that burns my cheeks to wear, I say “It’s been wonderful seeing you, Father, but school work calls.”
I abandon the table and head for the door, grabbing one of my shabby hoodies by the wall on my way out. On the front porch, stands Andy, holding one of my small canvas overnight bags with a proud smile.
“I took the liberty of packing you some jeans for tonight, since the chilly air of a midnight cemetery is no place for a chilly church dress.” He shoots an adverted glance at th ridiculous dress I’d put on for Father Know-It-All. I sigh and take it.
“Thanks,”I offer him a small smile. “I love how my parents didn’t say shit for the entirety of that conversation.”
“That’s what parents do,” he shrugs, his Prophet jacket materializing out of thin air, levitating in front of him until he pushed his lanky arms through the sleeves and pulled it on. “they deny you any peace and security until you’re left with nothing but bitter, resentful options. I know my teenage life could have been more enjoyable had my parents made an effort.” He frowns a bit, but keeps kind eyes.
“Anyways, might as well get a move on. Oh, and here’s your phone.”
“Anything new from Juliet?”
“About that...” he winces, “she said that the place was cleared out when they got in.”
“She had the right number?”
“Yeah, even had security open it for her. Nothing... So either my parents snuck off sometime this week to do it, or they just threw everything out.”
“How did she convince security to let her in?” I wonder in confusion. “If they’re any kind of realistic security, they’d never do that.”
“She told them she was my fiancee, and even had some obnoxious diamond ring to pull it together.”
“They didn’t need more proof than a stone on a silver band?”
“No, because she planned for that... She saw it, you know.” he snickers, “She’s got this big, burly best friend who works as a bouncer at one of the underground clubs in Berkeley. Anyways, he’s also a skilled computer hacker and graphic designer... Don’t ask. He photoshopped a convincing engagement photo and selfies of us together.”
“That’s sweet.” I muse before I realize I’ve said it. I wasn’t commenting on the power of friendship at all... But the mental images I got of Andy and Juliet in a legitimate relationship, engaged and all. They would have been nothing short of adorable together.
“What do you mean?” He asks with a puzzled expression.
“Oh... I just think you two were probably pretty cute together... I can see you with her.”
He’s quiet for a bit, his expression thoughtful. “Well... Things were good for a long time. But as her abilities started to manifest, she became unhinged... Understandably so, because how would you feel if a numb buzzing in the back of your head turned into full-fledged voices humming around you? She was distraught and inconsolable. It ate at her and she tried to understand it.... Mostly alone, because I’d be off doing something else. Admittedly, I didn’t believe in the supernatural back then. I’d look at her, and all I could see was my girlfriend going insane, and instead of being there for her, I worked long hours and kept myself away for as long as I could manage.”
I look up and finally notice Ashley’s presence, several yards ahead of us, maintaining a slow and daunting pace.
“”Anyways, we broke up around the time she started seeking help for her condition. And now, she’s a skilled fortune teller and medium.”
He gets this sort of wistful smile on his face, and I can see the memories of his past life dancing in his irises. He’s happy for her, proud, even.... And that fills me with unimagineable joy.
I’ve never been the jealous type, and I suppose that contributes to why I don’t care that he used to be in a very commited relationship. I don’t care that he’s loved other people, and if he should ever go on to love someone else, then so be it. I’m the kind of person who’s always cheering on everyone else’s happiness while finding little for myself. But emotionally, it doesn’t feel that way... I’m always just genuinely happy for those who are happy.
“And anyway, I was an ass to her. So when she told me she didn’t want to be with me anymore, I felt both relieved and oddly agreeing. I would not have wanted to be with myself, either... Even then, even after hitting gold in California, I still had this angsty vein of anger and doubt burning in me.”
“And now?” I challenge.
“Now it’s just dull flame,” he responds, frowning a bit. “It’s a lot different when you lack a body to carve a path of destruction with.”
And he’s right... Even since we first met, he’s changed. Evolved, even... He was more outgoing, and ecstatic about everything... I think now the weight of what happened has finally settled in, and he may be reforming into someone new and different... Perhaps even someone bitter and distant.
“Hey love-shits, pick it up,” Ashley calls out from ahead, throwing a semi-sarcastic grin over his shoulder at us. Still, something underlying in his body language suggested that he was feeling legitimate annoyance.
The topic fell into retirement, and we continued to make our way towards Elizbeth’s house. As the sunlight faded, the low breeze picked up a bit, reminding me once again that chilly spring evenings are no place for dresses.
“I guess I’ll have to dig into my past tonight.” Andy says after a bit, only semi-jokingly. “I’m not exactly shaking pom poms over the fact that I have to exhume myself.”
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say about that.” I admit, “I mean... I’ve never had to comfort someone through the grieving process of digging up their own corpse... So this is a first for me, too.”
He offers a saddened half smile.
~~~
I alone knocked on Elizabeth’s front door. My invisible comrads hung back a bit, hanging onto the more suspicious items we’d brought along. Within a few seconds, Elizabeth herself answered the door and ushered me in. I noticed her peek back out onto the porch for my ghostly guests, then turn to me with evident disappointment on her face.
“Don’t worry,” I reassure her in a hushed whisper. “they’re here.”
A prided, excited smile spreads across her face and she shuts the front door. Her Dad poked his head in the room to say hi, then returned to his rerun of a college sports game.
“Right... We’re on our own for the evening. Right this way.”
She leads the way up the staircase to her room, my memory clashing with the darker one from the previous week when we’d had our little brawl.
“So...” She begins when we’ve locked ourselves in her room. “Do tell.”
“First and foremost, do I have to explain the guidelines again, or do you fully and unconditionally understand the terms of this agreement?” I demand, dropping my overnight bag to the floor and crossing my arms.
“I agree 100%. I solemnly swear not to tell anyone, even my cat.”
I hesitate for a moment, a bit put off by her enthusiasm, but continue anyways. “Well... When I show them to you, you cannot exclaim or cause any kind of commotion that could result in your parents checking in. Got that?”
She nods feverishly.
“Also... Understand that you cannot understand everything about them. What you see at face value is what you get. They don’t fly, they don’t sparkle and they’re not shapeshifters. They’re simply supernatural human beings.”
She nods quickly again.
“Any questions whatsoever?” I hedge, gesturing for her to get them out of her system now if she has them.
“Oh, only a crap ton... Let’s get on with it.”
“First, let’s recap. Recite the rules.”
“Ash...” She begins to whine.
“Eliza.” I snap, jerking my jaw to the side to give her a firm look. “The rules.”
She groans, but complies. “Right... Cannot tell anyone, cannot panick or cause a fit, understand that for the most part... They’re perfectly normal.”
I wait a moment, then reluctantly nod. Unfortunately, the only way this plan will work seamlessly is with her cooperation.
“Alright... Alright...” I look her in the eye for a long moments. “I guess, I give you my ghost friends.”
Notes
We're 4,000 words away from 300,000 words on this story!
In other news, I got my first long term job! I'm inking pages of a comic book a friend is working on, and it looks like it might have a promising aspect ahead of it. I'll update you all on how it goes. :)
Inspired by Help I'm Alive by Metric
You never realize how much something inspired something you did until you fall into it lol. I forgot that in 2016 when I first started this story, I was massively obsessed with all things Silent Hill, and was particuarly inspired by the aesthetics and music of Silent Hill 2. "Promise" inspired countless chapters through it's cheerful yet oddly sorrowful melody.
I just want to say, I am here to support you no matter what you do <3
4/12/20