Revenant Paul Lahote

Chapter 2

Waking up had always been the worst part. Caylee felt like she was choking, unable to breathe in any air. Chest tight and constricted, eyesight fuzzy and skin tingly.

Right away she could tell that Paul wasn't there. He had always been a light sleeper; whether it be something he developed over the years due to his home life or something he picked up in the many nights a week he spent at her house she wasn't quite sure.

Regardless, her best friend never failed to make an entrance after one of her so called night terrors. Bursting through her bedroom door on the nights he decided to sleep downstairs instead of in his usual spot - a makeshift bed on the floor beside her own. Sleep evident on his face and a scratchy, tired voice he'd use in an attempt to calm her back down.

This time his presence was missing. The blankets and pillows still folded and placed in the same spot they had been in the previous day. The lit up numbers of Caylee's clock blinked aggressively, indicating that at some point during the night the power went out. It wasn't surprising, the air in the small home was freezing and made her teeth chatter.

Downstairs Gran was once again arguing with the coffee maker. It was a daily occurrence in their home. The only person who seemed to get a decent cup of coffee out of the old machine was Paul, and the two women of the house always felt the lack of energy when he wasn't there to do it.

"Now I'll tell you, I have half a mind to just throw this damn thing out the window!" Gran's voice croaked out, her hands aggressively shaking the old machine as if to force it to work.

"I told you I can go look for a new one once my paycheck comes in," Caylee yawned, climbing on the counter to reach the medicine cabinet.

"It's not broke it's just misogynistic. I tell you it has it out for us girls."

Caylee hummed in response. She had never been a morning person, probably due to lack of sleep she got throughout the night. Pouring black coffee for her grandmother and a splash of creamer in her own, "Did you take your meds?"

"Did you?" The older woman sassed, eyes squinted at her over the brim of her coffee cup. "I heard you shuffling around all night, shaking the whole house like an earthquake. Screa-"

"Did you hear if Paul came in?" Caylee cut her off, looking behind her at the couch that looked untouched. She bit her lip, looking over at the fridge where she and Paul would leave notes for each other. "I'm going to call Theresa after work and see if she has any shifts I can take so I'll be out late."

Theresa was one of the few reasons they could stay afloat. Her shifts at the local bookstore didn't cover all of the expenses of the house. When Theresa met Caylee she was only 15, and the woman could tell that she was struggling. Immediately offering her a free meal and talking to her about how they needed a dishwasher. It didn't take long for her to discover Caylee's need to remain untouched, and slowly but surely began working her up to being a waitress on the days where there were less people in the diner.

Almost 3 years later and Theresa, who had never had children of her own, still had Caylee under her wing. Delivering leftover food when she knew their house was empty or simply asking her to come in and take up extra shifts despite not really needing her there.

She must have tuned out whatever sassy comment her grandmother replied with because she heard the creaky springs of Gran's recliner moan at the weight of her plopping down, and the familiar sound of the little TV switching on.

"You two better not have taped over my soaps!"