H A U N T E D

t w e n t y - s i x

I pull at the sleeves of my sweater, staring over at the rushing gray waves that crash against the dark rocks, while a small fishermen's boat tries to take on the winter waters. The muddy sand of the beach are all clumped together, from the tide that must've come in during the night. Beneath our feet, the earth rotates and somewhere along the coastlines of our planet, maybe across many waves and beaches from here, another girl is staring out at the ocean, contemplating the way the ghosts on the shore wander about. Her ghosts, though, might be from a past she's trying to flee — while mine are those of souls whose lives came crashing down against the sharp rocks a bit out to the ocean. A child and a woman aimlessly walk along the border between land and water, retracing past steps, before they collectively look up and a moment of recognition pasts through their eyes. A few seconds later, this moment passes too, and they repeat the routine. They aren't really haunting the beach, they are more of residual spirits — those who don't know they are dead and will repeat their last steps, until the collapse of our sun. They don't bother me at all, and their presence is a comfort to me. Especially right now, in this moment, where my heart is filled with turmoil. 

"All the dead seems to know where I am", I say through the nicotine smoke that Nero blows out through their teeth, whistling as they press their tongue against their front teeth. A cigarette hangs carelessly between their index and middle finger, as they tap the growing ash off of it onto the wooden deck of the restaurant.

"Mm?", No questions, even though it was more a statement I made while thinking out loud. I shake my head, pulling the warm cup of hot chocolates that the waitress brought earlier. There are no floating marshmallows.

New turns their head to meet my eyes, and I've noticed that they've let their hair grow out a bit, with their curls starting to shape. In the two months since we've had an actual conversation, small changes to their appearance have taken place. They're sporting a septum nose piercing, that seemed to be all healed, so it must've been a while since it's been inserted. Although they still wear masculine clothes, their fingers are painted a dark shade of blue, like Hazel Grace's in The Fault In Our Stars. Not that nail polish does have a certain gender specification, it's just an observation.

"Ophelia, are you going to talk now? This is getting a bit comedic", Nero encourages me to open up, and extinguishes the cigarette in the ashtray on the table. I roll my bottom lip between my teeth, my hand automatically lifting to the gemstone pendant around my neck. My fingers toy with the stone, absent-mindlessly, while I think of a way to word my problem.

Neo must've taken my consideration as hesitation, and reaches their hand out to graze mine.

"Did Jack — did any of them hurt you?", they bashfully ask me, while subconsciously glancing down at my body. I frown slightly, confused by their words, before the meaning dawns on me. I rip my hand away, stunned into near silence by the suggestion of the question. I believe the Cullens to be many things, but I doubt any of them would do anything against another person's will. 

"No, never", I shake my head.

"What then, Lia? You sounded terrified on the phone, and that Alice-girl literally chased you out of the house."

I sigh and bite down hard on my bottom lip, considering what I can tell without giving away anyone's secrets.

"Is it some kind of witchcraft cult?", Neo guesses, lifting their hand up to rest their chin on the palm of their hand. My eyes brighten at the idea of the possible lie, and nod my head, letting my curls bounce against my skin.

"Yeah, something like that. So you understand why I'm so hesitant in speaking about it, right?"

"Won't you go to like, hell, for practicing witchcraft?", they wonder out loud. This is a common misconception, and I don't mind helping clear up the confusion.