Page 34 of He Who Haunts Me

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Page 34 of He Who Haunts Me

My parents moved a few hours away when I settled into college life. Having nothing to go back to, and an unwillingness to travel three hours back and forth over breaks or weekends, resulted in this quaint space.

The key turned easily enough given its tendency to stick, and the doorknob was cold as I pushed my way in. I paused, looking over my shoulder before I closed the door behind me.

I felt a wave of nausea and unease wash over me, as though someone were staring at me.Where would they even be able to hide?The apartment complex faced the main road beyond the lot access, and aside from the other units and the odd house here and there, it was mostly a wooded area. The woods weren’t thick either. Even knowing I saw between the tree line didn’t stop the feeling from spreading faster the longer I kept the door open.

With no obvious signs, I slammed the door a bit harder than necessary. I hit the normal lock and then the deadbolt. I hurried to the few windows on the front face and began closing the blinds and pulling the curtains. The naturally lit living room darkened, mimicking the way this semester was closing.

There hadn’t been a moment’s passing before the second murder. I hadn’t taken special behavior courses for the program yet, but it was a known fact that this was calculating out to be a serial case.

I turned on the lights as I walked to our small kitchen. It had the necessities, and despite what most would assume, my parents didn’t hand over their credit cards anytime I asked. I preferred to do odd jobs or take a temporary position in a work study program to create some extra cash. My parents provided an allowance account that covered what my tuition package didn’t, but I didn’t really need to dip into that too often. I had a budget and a focused plan. I hardly strayed from those.

Hmm, my parents.

I expected a call by now. They had the school set their accounts on the same email alerts. When Trisha died, I had to return their calls after I spoke with Detective Bishop.

I didn’t take this moment for granted. I pulled out our rice cooker and pressure cooker. I watched the digital clock on the oven as I prepped the rice. I pulled other ingredients out and prepared them. I was antsy and restless.

I wanted the phone call with my parents to be over. I wanted this horrible terror on our town to be put to rest, and I needed to have a serious talk with my inner self and why she suddenly felt attracted to two different men.

I pushed the start buttons and turned the faucet on for a final rinse of my hands.

Of course, that was the moment my phone started to chime. Doing a quick dry on my pants, I pulled my cell from my back jean pocket.

Late, but predictable.

“Hi, Mo—”

“Bexley Renee!” She cut me off using my whole name, which was never a good sign.

“Yes, ma’am?” I never knew how to be a daughter to my mother. Likewise, I doubted she felt confident in how to be a mother to me. I knew there was nothing I was at fault for, and I had residual feelings of being not enough. Whether that was a lack of communication or missing the mark on arbitrary expectations varied.

“You didn’t call us!”

“I’m sorry.”No, I’m not.“I was driving, and I just walked in.” A little stretch of the truth only made you more limber, right?

“We saw the email. What kind of school have you decided to go to? Your father is not going to stand for careless actions.” Her tendency to say inflammatory statements wasn’t new. No, Cordelia Laughtery had been known to place blame on those not culpable long before I was even a consideration. The school wasn’t responsible for either murder, but all the same, reason evaded Cordelia each time.

Not to mention, it wasn’t a slight against my school, but it was intended to hurt me, as though I made poor choices.Whatever.

“Mama, the student is from here. The murder wasn’t done here. I hardly believe the president is holding school-sanctioned murders.”

“Tone, miss.” Her voice was stern but shrill.

“I apologize, Mama. Just know that I’m okay. I keep to myself, you know that. I hardly have the time to go out and socialize.”Well, there is our mystery masked sexual hookup arrangement. That’s definitely safe.

“That’s not very comforting,” she snarked. Then she moved away from the receiver and fussed at my father. “No, Gregory, it’s the same excuses as last time. Your father will be more than happy to remind them who’s funding the tuition and boosters.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and quietly inhaled. My father wanted me to follow the Ivy League law school path. I chose criminal psychology.

“Oh, hey, Mari just walked in, and we have to catch up for our midterm on Thursday.”Doing those stretches again.“I gotta go, but I’ll call you guys later on. Love you, bye.” I didn’t wait to hear her acceptance or denial and tossed my phone onto the counter.

My mother had the brilliant talent of making you feel like you needed to clear out the anti-anxiety shelf behind the pharmacy. I rolled my shoulders back, effectively rolling my mother away. It took more these days to completely ruin me, but I had a daily limit of what I’d tolerate.

I collected the dirty dishes from the counter and placed them in the sink. I moved through the dining space and open living room, doing the same before I headed upstairs.

My bedroom door was open when I reached the top. I walked in to gather the few midnight snack plates and cups I had, but I stopped when I saw Mari brought my costume in here. My fingers trailed over the shiny leather. It was cold to the touch, but I knew just how hot it was trapped in there.

And when I’m trapped and zipped in, there was only one way I wanted to be freed. As I ran my hand over the rough zipper, I felt the ghosting ofhistouch down my spine.

October 21, 2020




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