Harsh Realm

Part 2

"You must be haunting me." -Haunted, Beyonce

Part 2

        I put my hand to my forehead and closed my eyes. This was not helping my nausea whatsoever. I didn’t know who this girl was, or why she was in my house. And now she was playing mind games with me. It couldn’t hurt to play along, so that’s what I did. I looked behind me over both of my shoulders, pretending like I was looking for something.

        “What are you doing?” She asked, exasperated. I turned toward her, raising both of my eyebrows.

        “Me?” I asked, pointing my thumb at myself. “I’m looking for Casper, when should I expect him to be showing up?”

        She glared at me as I laughed at my own joke. Her glare intensified, if that was even possible, so I contained my laughter, settling for a smirk.

        “That is quite possibly the lamest joke I’ve ever heard. Ever.”

        “I thought it was funny,” I defended, “but no seriously, who should I call?”

        “Call for what?!” Sage asked, agitation getting the best of her.

        “I need to call which ever mental institution you escaped from,” I explained. And oh man, if looks could kill.

        “Are you joking? I should be calling the mental institution for you. You’re the one who can see a dead girl!”

        I remember thinking that if she was actually dead, and not just crazy, that would have been an excellent comeback. Sage’s hands flew to her temples and she started to massage them, as if the entire situation was giving her a headache too.

        “Listen,” I started, “I can call someone to come get you if you wan—” I halted as she talked over me.

     “Don’t you get it?” She blurted. “I can’t leave this house. But believe me,” She uttered menacingly, “if I could, I would.”

        It wasn’t making any sense to me. I was confused, tired, and felt like I was going to vomit at any minute. Not even one night in the new house, and I was already being tortured by some psycho who had herself convinced that she was dead.

        “Why can’t you leave?”

        “I already told you. I’m dead.”

        “Oh right, and I’m Santa Claus,” I teased, earning myself another glare. 

        She seemed irritated as she fell backwards onto my bed, throwing her arm over her eyes to block the light radiating from the ceiling. I slowly started inching my way toward the door with the hope of making it downstairs fast enough to call the cops on her. I had to be quiet though, she was a mental patient after all. Her looks were vicious enough, I didn’t want to know what else she was capable of.

        As leisurely as possible, I tiptoed toward the bedroom door, looking over at Sage every couple of seconds to make sure she didn’t see me.

        “You do realize I can hear you, yes?” She inquired rhetorically.

        I just stopped in place, feeling stupid for thinking I could transform into some sort of ninja. I turned my attention to Sage who uncovered her eyes and used her elbows to prop herself up.