karma → 5sos au

1.4

"Michael!"

It took him a little while to recognise her, probably because he had never seen her so dressed up.

"Bryana?"

"How are you? I mean, what are you doing here?" she sputtered. He looked exactly the same, same bad skin, same spiky hair.

"I'm . . . uh . . . parking cars," he said, somewhat defensively. "The pay is really good. And I get overtime for Saturday nights."

"Hey, that's great," she said with false enthusiasm. They stared at each other. She still had the parking ticket in her hand.

"So how've you been? I haven't seen you in so long," she said, wishing she could get to her car and get out of there without having to make small talk with Michael.

"Yeah. It's been a while," he said, slapping his hands together, probably to keep them warm. He frowned.

"Listen, I've been seeing Luke," Bryana said, fumbling for something to say. "I'm surprised he hasn't mentioned you. He - "

Michael's face filled with confusion. "You what?"

"I've been seeing Luke. Something's wrong with him, don't you think? He looks so - "

"Bryana - what are you talking about? You're putting me on, right?"

"Putting you on?"

"Yeah. That's a real bad joke, you know." He kicked at the curb.

"Mikey, what - I saw Luke last week and - "

"Have you lost your shit? Luke is dead. He's dead, Bryana."

"Michael, stop. He isn't dead. Why do you keep telling me that? I saw him last week. I touched him. I danced with him. He's not dead. Why do you insist on - "

"I don't get what you're trying to pull. Are you crazy, or what?" Michael glared at her angrily, searching her eyes as if trying to discover whether or not she was serious. "I only know one thing, Bryana," he said in a low voice that she had to struggle to hear. "Luke is dead."

"But - "

"I went to his funeral. I saw him in the box. He was dead. Stone-cold dead."

"Mike - "

"Maybe you think you see Luke," Michael continued heatedly. "Maybe you imagine it out of guilt or something. I know, you should feel guilty, you know. You left him there to die."

"I did not! I -" Oh, what's the use of trying to explain? she thought.

"Maybe you need some kind of help or something. I'm no shrink. Like I said, I only know one thing. Luke is dead. He's dead, Bryana. I saw him die. And I saw him at his funeral. He's dead. Forever. And that's the truth."

Bryana drove home slowly, carefully, her mind spinning from her conversation with Michael. She gripped the wheel to stop from shaking. Even though she turned the heater on to full force, she couldn't get warm.

She was still trembling when she climbed out of the car and entered the house through the garage. She changed into warm, comfortable clothes, a heavy white sweater and black leggings. Then she made herself a cup of chamomile tea. But she still couldn't get calm, couldn't stop hearing Michael's frightening words.

I believe Michael, she decided.

But how could she believe Michael?

What did that mean? If she believed Mike, that meant she'd been dating a ghost.

And Luke was no ghost. She was sure of that.

"It doesn't make sense!" she screamed aloud, immediately regretting it because she didn't want to wake the maid.

She carried her tea from the kitchen into the living room, and turned on all the lights. The tea warmed her a bit. The trembling stopped.

There has to be a logical explanation for this.

There's a logical explanation for everything, right?

She sat down on the big, overstuffed armchair, curled her feet under her, and placed the mug of tea in her lap.

Let's just think about this. . .

But there was no way to think about it logically.

Luke was dead. Michael had told her that back in October at the hospital. Then in December, just a few weeks ago, Luke reappeared. He had been hurt, he said. And he looked as if he had been hurt. But her was alive. Definitely alive.

Except for the fact that Michael insisted he was dead. And Michael had been at the funeral.

So that meant. . .

That meant. . .

What?

When Mrs. Holly returned home shortly after one, Bryana was still sitting in the armchair in the living room, still staring at the wall, the now empty tea mug in her hand.

"Good heavens, Bryana. I thought you'd be asleep."

"Well, no, I - "

"What a night!" her mother gushed. "And what a smashing success. Do you know how much money we raised for the charity fund?"

"No." Bryana didn't even try to be interested.

"It was a lot. Do you know what Mrs. Collier said to me? She said. . ."

Her mother rattle on. Bryana tuned her out. He voice became a quiet hum in the background of Bryana's thoughts. She nodded occasionally and said "Uh-huh" to make her mother think she was listening. She could go on like this for half an hour without taking a breath, Bryana thought. Well, let her. This is the highlight of her year, after all. Poor thing.

Bryana thought about Luke, trying to arrange the puzzle pieces of this mystery together. But the pieces just wouldn't fit.

Luke, even though he seemed different, was definitely Luke.

She thought about how he had changed. The green tinge of his skin. The stiff, straight-legged walk, the musty, stale odor, the loose teeth, the skin that peeled off like . . . like a zombie.

Maybe I'm dating a 'Walker' off of the Walking Dead, she thought. She almost chuckled, but then stopped herself. Her mother would surely notice she wasn't listening if she did that.

She scolded herself for getting carried away. Now think logically.

Zombies aren't logical.

"I don't think you've heard a word I said." Her mother stood up and headed to the front stairway.

"Of course I did. I heard every word," Bryana lied. "Listen, Mum. I've got to go out."

Mrs. Holly looked at her diamond-encrusted watch. "At this hour? Are you crazy?"

I hope I'm not crazy, Bryana thought.

"Uh . . . I'm just so wound up. From the party and all. You know. All the excitement. I can't seem to relax. I'm just going to take a short drive, just to get some fresh air."

"A drive? No, Bry. Don't go driving late at night," her mother pleaded, wetting her finger and wiping something off the watch crystal. "Last time you went for a drive late at night, you - "

"I'll be careful, Mum." Thanks for pretending you care. "And I'll be back real soon. Promise."

Bryana hurried past her mother at the stairway, pulled down her coat from the coat closet, and headed to the garage. "Be careful!" her mother called after her. "I really don't approve of this!"

I don't approve either, Bryana thought, backing the BMW down the drive. I'd much rather be tucked safely into my nice, warm bed.

But I've got to know the truth. I've got to know what's going on here.

As she turned onto Fairview, the street that would take her across town to Luke's house, a feeling of dread began to form in her stomach.

She suddenly had the feeling that knowing the truth might be even more frightening than not knowing.