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by Ryno Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Thriller/Suspense · #1895874
Keri has her first encounter with the supernatural.
CHAPTER 3



​The next few days went by and nothing was really different except that I had no father. Seemed like I had no mother as times as well. School started up the Wednesday after the Funeral, which was the Wednesday after Labor Day. Eighth grade. Shared most classes with Becky. Still rode the bus together. Second day of school I arrived home and entered the house through the side door of my house. Usually did since it opened into the kitchen. Grabbed a banana and walked into the living room to go upstairs. Saw my mother sitting in my father’s beige recliner staring at the wall wearing her pink fleece bathrobe and matching slippers. Tears rolled from her puffy eyes and down her cheeks. I had not spoken with my mother since the Funeral. Realized that we never talked about what happened, about the accident. It never came up. Thought it might be good to get things out in the open, discuss them. Went into the living room and stared at her for a bit. Had never seen her like that before. It had only been a week, but you could see her eyes were not as vibrant. Hand was twirling through her uncombed hair. Legs bent with her knees in front of her face.

​“Hello,” I called out, quietly.

​She shook then turned her head to look at me. She moved an arm to hug her legs. “Kerri. You startled me. How are you? How is school going?”

​“Going great. It’s only been two days, though. I was hoping to talk to you about…” I couldn’t get it out.

​“About what?”

​Gathered myself, I was ready. I needed this. “About dad. About what happened. About…”

​“I don’t want to talk about that right now,” she said and turned her head away abruptly. Both arms hugged her legs.

​“Why not?”

​She did not turn around. Kept staring at the wall. “I just don’t want to, okay. Please. I would like to be alone.”

​“But, mom. Please. All I want to do is talk about it and--”

​“I said I wanted to be alone,” her voice was getting more agitated. She wasn’t mad, that wasn’t like her, but she was frustrated. She was not ready to talk.

​I was and persisted. “Mom!” I almost yelled. “Why won’t you talk about it?”

​“Because I don’t, that is why!” she was almost yelling, too.

​“Afraid to admit that he is dead?”

​She got up out of the chair, got in front of me, looked me dead in the eyes and said, “I said I wanted to be alone.” Then she stormed past me and went upstairs.

​I was a bit hurt by it. I stood there, mouth open. I had never seen her like that before.



​The next morning as Becky and I waited for the bus, I talked to her about what happened the day before with my mother.

​“I have never seen her like that, Beck. It kinda scared me, ya know,” I said.

​“Imagine you’re her. Kay. I mean. She just lost her husband. What? A week? Week and a half ago?

​“Right. I understand, but I--”

​“You didn’t let me finish,” she interrupted, smiled at me. We could see the bus coming, so she waited to finish what she was saying until we were seated and on our way. “Put yourself in her shoes. Imagine her sorrow. Her loss. She will talk to you about it when she is ready.”

​“Probably right,” I said.

​“I am.” She turned, looked out the window. I could see her reflection in the glass and saw her eyes widen, her lips curl. Knew we were getting close to Tommy Sullivan’s stop. She turned back to me. “So, are you excited about your birthday coming up?” Leave it to Becky to abruptly change the subject on me.

​I shrugged. “Not really. Maybe. I dunno. Still a couple of weeks away. It will the first birthday without my father, though.” Sadness overcame me then, not tears, just sadness. Memories of him, good ones this time, washed over me. I remembered how he looked that last time I saw him. When he came to say goodnight to me. Felt the touch of his kiss on my forehead.

​“Kare, you with me?”

​I shook my head, the memories fleeted. “Yeah. I was just thinking about my dad. I really miss him.” Pain, like hunger, filled my gut. Only my father could have rid that pain. She put her arm around me, gently leaned her head onto mine. That helped.

​“I am always here for you, girl.”



​My birthday arrived with little fanfare. Missed the big production my father always made. Missed him. His robustness when he sang ‘Happy Birthday’ down on his knees like he was proposing, arms open wide. Missed him a lot. I woke up fourteen years old, but cared little. Was just an ordinary September twentieth. Got ready for school and went downstairs to eat breakfast. My mother was in the kitchen. Had not seen her much lately. Since I tried to talk about the accident, my mother had been absent from my life completely. Guess she had better things to do. Like sulk. But she was there that morning, first time I had seen her in nearly two weeks.

​She saw me walk into the kitchen, looked up at me. Eyes were still puffy, pink. Could hardly tell where her face ended and her robe started. “Happy Birthday, Kerri.” She stood up and I saw a puppy in her arms. All tan and cuddly. Big brown puppy dogs eyes. So cute.

​“Thanks. Who is this little guy?”

​“It’s a puppy. Golden retriever. Your father and I wanted to get you a puppy for your birthday. We talked about it before…” She tailed off, not wanting to say it.

​“Before the accident,” I shot. “Just say it, mom. Dad died in an accident. He is dead. Why can’t you admit it?” Sounded very patronizing, very harsh. Almost regretted saying.

​She walked over to me, handed me the puppy and said, “I know he did. Happy Birthday.” Sorrow and anger were on her face as she walked out of the room. Heard her footsteps go up the stairs.

​I thought about what I said, how I said it. Yes, it was harsh. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. I knew she was suffering and thought about Becky’s advice. To be patient. But I wanted to talk about it with her. It was a way to heal, not just for me, not just for her, but for the both of us. Together. We did not have much of a relationship before my father died, but it was next to nothing after he died. It was like we were in separate houses. Houses separated by hundreds of miles of barbed wire. It was like they both died. We needed each other, but neither of us knew it, or knew how.

​There was wetness on my nose, my thoughts back to reality. The puppy. I smiled. Almost laughed. Thought of my father, how he wanted me to have a puppy. Now the smile disappeared, replaced by sorrow. Every emotion was so quick to come and go.

​How did he know I wanted a puppy?

​Didn’t care. Not to mention that it was really from my mother. She merely said that both of them discussed it, yet my brain heard father. Her gracious gift went un-thanked. And with angry words, too. What a great birthday it was turning out to be.

​“Hey there, little guy,” I said to the puppy. Tiny. Size of a couch cushion. He licked my face with his pink tongue and let out a gentle bark. I put him down. Needed to come up with a name. A good one. Not Fido, not Cujo. My mind wandered. I thought of when I was five years old and my dad took me to the Pittsburgh Zoo for the day. Seemed so huge to me then. The monkeys made me laugh. But nothing in terms of a good name was in that memory.

​Disney World. My favorite vacation, every kid’s favorite more than likely. But still I had nothing. Goofy? Granted my dad was a bit goofy, but that name was taken. I wanted something original. Then it hit me. We cherished game night and his favorite was Monopoly and Parker Brothers made the game.

​“Parker,” I said, my thought completed. “Yeah. That is perfect.” And it was. It was either that or Moneybags.

​Parker was curled up on the floor at my feet. I bent down and patted him on the top of his head. He was so soft. He rolled over on to his back, wanting a big belly rub. I obliged.

​I had to go to school, but first I needed breakfast. Had to do that myself since my mother had left the room. Think I heard the water in the pipes again. Another bubble bath. Cheerios were simple and a good breakfast, so that is what I had. Finished, cleaned up and grabbed by backpack off the hook by the side door. Off to the bus stop.

​“Happy Birthday, Kare,” Becky said when she saw me coming.

​“Thanks, Beck.”

​She was giddy as usual. “I have something for ya. Give it to ya after school, though. Kay?”

​“All right. What is it?”

​“A gift, knucklehead. You’ll see it later.”

​We did not usually exchange gifts for birthdays or holidays. Never saw the need. Being together was all we needed. The fact she wanted to give me something had me intrigued.

​“Mom got me a puppy,” I said. “Said my dad wanted me to have one.”

​“That’s cool. Can’t wait to see ‘em.”

​“I think she is mad at me now, though. After she gave it to me, we got into it again. About how she won’t talk to me about the accident. About my father.”

​She put an arm around me. “Let it go, Kare. She needs to get over it in her own way.”

​“But I think it would be good for both of us to talk about it. Ya know?”

​“I understand. But, for whatever reason, she is not ready to talk.”

​“I know.”

​The bus pulled up and we both got on, took our seats.

​“Kare,” she said after a few seconds of silence. “Give your mom time. I am sure you guys will have your talk.”

​“Guess you’re right,” I shrugged.

​“I am. Trust me.”

​I did trust her, always did. Would never in a million years think about violating that trust either. I know how strong trust is, how powerful a mechanism it is. Without trust, no lasting relationship can exist. Trust is the very foundation of any relationship. Not love. If you don’t trust someone, there is no way you can love them. And I both trusted and loved Becky. She was the best. She knew when I needed a laugh, or when I needed advice, or a shoulder to cry on. Just from a look I would give her, she knew.

​It was my turn to sit by the window, we alternated days, and I stared out the window, seeing nothing. Just staring.

​Short while later, the bus pulled into school and we began our day. It was a long day. One of those days where you would look at the clock at two ten, then wait what you thought was at least a half an hour, only to be disappointed when the clock read two fifteen. But Becky was there, so it was okay.

​Took forever, but school did end. The bus ride home was the opposite of the school day, quick. When I arrived home, I told Becky I would see her in a few minutes. Had to get Parker first. She said great and went to her house. Walked into my house and saw my mother sitting in my father’s chair again. Staring. Like I was on the bus that morning. She looked to be crying, or had recently due to the pink around her eyes. Body curled up, hugging her legs with both arms. Thought about saying something, but I did not want to get confrontational again. I took Becky’s advice. Went into the kitchen and saw Parker sleeping on the floor near his water bowl, nose nuzzled between his front paws. So cute. I looked at him for a few seconds. Smiled.

​“Come on boy,” I called out to him. He immediately got up and tried to jump on me. Bent down and let him lick my face. It was sloppy and wet, but wonderful. I stood, looked around for his leash and saw it hanging on the hook near the back door. After clipping it to his collar, we went outside and over to Becky’s where she was, of course, waiting for me. If it was possible, she was more gleeful, more jittery than usual. She held a box in her hands.

​“I take it this is the new puppy,” she said.

​“Duh,” I said. She knew it, her face showed it. “I named him Parker.”

​“Awww. He is sooo cute,” she said in a voice one would use to talk to a baby. Parker tried to jump on her, so she bent down to pet him and got a face full of dog tongue and giggled. She grabbed under his beak and kissed his head then she stood up. “Anyway. Got something for ya.” She handed me the box she held in her hands. It was a long thin box, maybe eight inches by one and a half inches. A half inch thick. Becky wrapped it in yellow and blue checkerboard paper.

​I shook the package and it made a slight scraping sound, but gave nothing away. I ripped off the paper and opened the black box inside. Reached in and pulled out the most beautiful necklace I had ever seen. Attached to a silver linked chain was a stunning sapphire about the diameter of a marble, but flat on one side. I put it on.

​“Thanks, Beck. It is beautiful.”

​“I knew you’d love it. Told my mom I wanted to get you something for your birthday this year. She was cool. We went to the jewelry store, not really knowing what to get. Saw that sapphire was your birthstone. Then I saw this. Not only was it sapphire, but it was the same color as your eyes.”

​“It’s really special, Beck. I love it.”

​“And it’s not just a birthday gift. I mean, it is. But I just wanted you to know what you mean to me. Ya know. I know you have been through a lot and, well, I wanted you to know that I was here for you. To laugh. To cry. Whatever.”

​My heart melted. It was not like Becky to get sentimental. “I know, Beck. But it’s always good to hear.” Then I hugged her. When I pulled away, my eyes were starting to water.

​“All right,” Becky said. “Before you get all mushy on me. I got one thing to say, girl.”

​“What is that?” I knew exactly what it was.

​She made me wait a few seconds, it added to the effect. “a-a-a-choooooo!”

​Laughter engulfed us for a few minutes. Even Parker. When I woke that morning, it was the worst birthday ever. Horrible. Now, it was the best birthday I could have asked for.

​When I went home that evening, I checked the mail. The mailbox was stuffed, so I grabbed everything and brought it in. Put it on the kitchen table. There were a couple of things for me. Opened one. Inside was a card, one of those funny birthday cards. When I unfolded it, a hundred dollar bill fell to the floor. Picked it up then looked inside the card. Handwritten inside were the words: ‘Happy Birthday, with Love –Uncle Rex’. I smiled. There were other cards for me as well. One from my Aunt Nancy, all the way from Wisconsin. And one from Uncle Michael and family. The four of them signed it themselves. Sandra wrote me a message, it read: ‘Happy B’day, Kerri. Hope it’s your best ever, Sandra’. Simple words, but sincere. She was so sweet.

​Called out to my mom, she usually made my birthday dinner and I was hungry. She did not answer. I tried again. Still no answer. Walked over to the pantry, hunted for something to eat. Nothing looked good. Opened the freezer and found a frozen pizza. Not great, but it would have to do. Read the cooking instructions and put it in the oven. Sat at the table and waited. Put my head down and started to rub my temples gently when the phone rang. I answered it.

​“Hello?”

​“Hey. Happy Birthday, Kerri,” my Uncle Rex said. I recognized his voice right away. Sounded similar to my father’s only deeper.

​“Thanks, Unc. And thanks for the card and money.”

​“Don’t mention it. So, did you have a good birthday?”

​“Sure. I guess. Mom got me a puppy.”

​“I know. I helped her with that. It was all her idea, though. She said she talked to your father about it a couple of months ago. When I called last week, she told me about it. Told her I would help her with it. I met her at the pet store, talked to the guys there. She picked him out. She made all of the decisions.”

​I was beginning to wonder how much my mother was responsible for Parker. She was the one who gave him to me, but did my father come up with the idea? And Rex. That whole story. Was that to try and downplay how much he actually did? Maybe mom did what she said. Only they knew.

​“Thanks. I love him. Named him Parker.”

​“Wonderful.”

​A buzzer rang out. My pizza was done. “Oh. I guess that is my dinner.”

​“What are you having?”

​“Made a frozen pizza.”

​“Where is your mother? Isn’t she cooking dinner for you?”

​“I don’t know. I called out to her, but she did not answer. So I made the pizza. I was hungry. Couldn’t wait.”

​“Oh. She loves making you dinner. Especially on birthdays. That is weird. Anyway, I will let you go so you can eat it while it’s warm.”

​“Okay. Thanks again, Unc. For everything.”

​“No problem. Love you.”

​“Love you, too,” I said then hung up the phone.

​The pizza was warm and gooey, but not very good. It was filling, it was just bland. I yawned. It has been a long month. Filled Parker’s water bowl, patted him goodnight and headed up to my room. He followed me upstairs and jumped up into my bed with me. Flicked on my light and tried to read. Kept thinking about my dad. The images rushing back to me. The blood. The glass. Parker looked up at me. But the images kept haunting me. I looked down and saw the necklace Becky gave me. How it shined. I grabbed it and clutched it tight. Parker licked me. It took some of the…



​…bad memories away,” I said. Took a deep breath. Needed it. Just sat there for a minute, shaking, thinking about how to go on. How to continue.

​“Is that all, Kerri?” Dr. Ramsey said. She sat there with her legs crossed one over the other, notepad resting on her knees. Hands folded. Dark brown hair in a bun.

​“Not even close. I just needed a break for a sec. Need to relax. Sorry.”

​“Don’t apologize. I understand this is hard for you. Would you like a glass of water, or something?”

​“Yeah. Water would be great. Thanks.” Felt like I swallowed a beach.

​Dr. Ramsey rolled her chair over to her desk and paged her receptionist. A few seconds later the receptionist came in with a glass of water for me.

​“Thanks,” I said. Smiled. Took a big gulf and swished it around in my mouth. I nodded to Dr. Ramsey to let her know I was ready to continue. She rolled her chair back away from her desk. Concentrated on me.

​“Okay,” I said. “Better now. Thanks. I think I can continue now.”

​She stared at me and nodded.

​“Where was I?”

​She glanced down at her notes like she had not been paying attention. “It was your birthday. You were saying how Parker was helping—”

​“Right. That was when things really got interesting. Well, maybe it was a couple of days later. It started after…



​…school. Becky and I got off the bus. Told her I’d see her later. Had to do homework first. Walked into the house through the back door and into the kitchen. Set my backpack on the kitchen table and went and grabbed a snack. Not much in the pantry, but I found some graham crackers. They were a bit stale, but they hit the spot. Would have been better with some marshmallows and melted chocolate. Or peanut butter. My mom was not in the chair this time, did not see her around. When did I? Assumed she was out shopping or taking a bubble bath. Parker was sleeping on the couch.

​“Come here, Parker.” Parker looked up and saw me. He jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen. Jumped up on me. “Who’s a good boy, huh?” I patted his head. Went over to the pantry and grabbed a dog treat. Broke it in half and threw it at him. He dove on it.

​“Wanna go for a walk?” Parker panted. I went over to the door and grabbed his leash. Clipped it on. When I took hold of the door knob, something happened. A cool chill wiggled down my spine. I shook. Felt like there was something in the room with me. But there was nothing I could see. Shook my head back and forth. “It’s nothing,” I said. Parker sat there. I let go of the door knob and backed up a few steps. Parker did not come with me. Felt his leash stiffen. “What is it, boy?”

​I felt a breeze. Turned and saw that all the windows were closed tight. But curtains on one of the windows swayed gently in a breeze that came from nowhere. Parker started barking. Heard footsteps patter across the linoleum. I froze. Droplets of perspiration formed on my forehead. More footsteps. Saw nothing when I turned my head. Wind blew around me. Maybe it was voices. Whispers. But there were no words. Spun myself around. Nothing there.

​Something touched my neck. It was cold. Bony. Goose pimples formed on my suddenly very vulnerable neck. Arms, too. The touch moved to my ear. A gentle touch. Tickled it. It moved again. Felt hands around my neck. Choking me. Parker barked loudly. More like a squeal. I looked at him. He burrowed into the floor. Covered his head with his front paws. The grip on my neck tightened. My lungs screamed for air. Suddenly, the grip was gone. A breeze passed by my ear. Sounded like laughing. Footsteps across the floor. Then nothing. I stood there frozen.

​What was that? Or who? What did it want with me? Am I going crazy?

​Something was there. I knew it. Felt it. But I did not see anything. That icy touch was real. But there was nothing there. I tried to scream, but nothing happened. Walked over to Parker and patted him on his back. “It’s okay now. It’s okay.”

​Heard another sound and turned around. Everything seemed like slow motion. The door knob turned. Door creaked open. My knees shook. Arms tingled. Sucked in some air to calm myself down.

​Maybe it’s not okay.

​My mother came in from outside carrying grocery bags. I almost fell to the floor. All the air in my body escaped in a loud breath.

​“Everything okay, Kerri?” she asked. She felt the tension in the room, it was hard to miss. Felt like hands around your neck.

​I stood there silent for a second. “You scared me,” I mumbled. “I…I wasn’t expecting you…didn’t know…” I paused. Took in more air. Better. “I didn’t know you were gone. You startled me when you came in. I am good now.” Screamed inside my head.

​“You sure?” She stood in the open door holding bags. She was neither in nor out.

​“Yep.”

​“Okay. Help me unload?”

​“Sure.” Want to talk about dad? No. Not the right time.

​Went towards the door and she stopped me by grabbing my arm softly. “Nice necklace,” she said.

​Forgot I had it on. “Thanks. Becky got it for me, for my birthday.”

​“It’s very pretty. Like your eyes.” Simple. Sincere.

​I smiled. Went outside, grabbed a couple of bags and brought them inside. There were not many, so it took only a few minutes to put everything away. Not a word was spoken between us as we worked. Parker shadowed me like he was stuck to my leg and got in the way a couple of times. Almost tripped over him. When everything was put away, I went upstairs to my room. Still had homework to do, but it was hard to focus on. My mind wandered. Thoughts of whatever it was in the kitchen filled my brain.

​What was that all about? Was that a ghost? Was it trying to kill me? Or just scare me?

​It did scare me. A lot. Parker was in my room with me as he usually was. He put his paws on my leg and tried to climb up onto my lap. I pulled him up and rubbed his furry little ears. It helped. I reached down to my chest and clutched the necklace, rubbed it. Almost felt like Becky was with me. But not.

​I opened my hands, the sapphire rested in my palm. I had not really looked deeply into the stone. I looked at it, just never in it. Stared at it like it was my job. It was weird. It almost felt like I was looking into the mirror and my reflection was staring back at me. The stone looked that much like my eyes. I let the necklace fall back to my chest and let Parker lick me face. I smiled. Almost had a Becky moment and laughed hysterically for no reason. Yawned instead. It was getting dark outside, but not from the setting sun or the approaching nighttime. Dark clouds loomed on the horizon. I could feel the energy building up like it was inside me. I moved to my bed and Parker followed. We snuggled with each other for a few minutes. I read The Outsiders for a while. Related to Ponyboy, felt a connection to him. His parents died in an automobile accident, just like my dad. We were both fourteen. Both smart. Becky reminded me a little of Johnny Cade. They both seemed so nervous all the time, but very brave. All Johnny wanted was to be like Dally, he idolized Dally. When Dally told Johnny he was proud of him, his eyes glowed. That was all he wanted in life, for Dally to be proud of him. That is all Becky wanted in life, too, I think. For me to be proud of her, to let her know how I felt about her. I was her Dally.

​Must have drifted off a little because I woke to the sound of thunder. Two cars crashing into each other was what I heard. And loud bass. Lightning flashed. My room lit up, then darkened. Like a firecracker just went off. Thunder again. It shook me. I looked out my window and saw trees swaying in the wind. Thunder and lightning became one single entity. Shadows crept across my room. Outside, the trees seemed to reach out for my neck. To suffocate me. I could feel them on me. The rough bark. The prickly touch. Wind howled outside and I could hear the laughter, hear the mocking tones it brought. I curled into a ball, Parker licked my cheek. Time moved on and so did the storm. Thought about the hands from earlier. I was shivering. Cold. Tired. I could feel the cold bony hands grab my neck, choke me. Could feel the air fleeing my body, seeking a living lung to occupy rather than the one here dying. For the rest of the night I stayed like that. Curled into a ball. Shaking.

​Something happened to me that day. It was a turning point. Or, at the very least, a tipping point. Whatever it was that haunted me earlier made an appearance. And did so for a reason. Maybe it was my imagination. I was not sure. A turning point. That I was sure of.



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