Sins of the Father

13 | Peace

Mike and Annie didn't leave me on the floor because they were sure I was too weak to try and escape.

They left me on the floor because I'm dead.

I stare down at my body. My eyes are open and shiny, still full of tears. My lips have gone blue. There's a dark purple bruise on my neck in the shape of palms and fingers. Mike's blood is splattered over my clothes, the dark red a stark contrast to my paling skin.

I'm a ghost.

"Police!"

I turn around and watch as dozens of police swarm inside. Three of them walk right through me, and the rest pay me no attention. One of them, with a name tag that reads James, pauses over my dead body and lets out a curse.

He crouches as a fellow officer joins him. "Is that him?" the other officer asks. "The Kennedy kid?"

James's jaw sets. "Yeah," he says quietly. "It's him."

"Jesus Christ," the other officer whispers. "Looks like they throttled him to death." He looks around. "There's still a girl missing. She might be here, too."

He goes off to join the others in their search of the house. James keeps staring at me, his expression unreadable. Then he reaches out with two fingers and gently closes my eyes.

I hear a loud bang; the officers have broken down the basement door. Only seconds later, they're walking out with Charlie. She freezes when she sees my body and almost falls over; an officer has to hold her upright.

She inhales a shallow, shaky breath, and then she lets out an awful wail. She breaks down sobbing, but right before the officers lead her into the dining room to sit her down, she looks at me.

Not at my body.

At me.

I follow the group into the dining room and stand in the corner. An older officer with a kind face and even kinder voice gently asks Charlie what happened, and as she tells the story between sobs, she keeps looking at me, directly into my eyes.

"Thank you, Charlotte," the officer says. "Martinez, wait with her, okay? I'll be right back."

Martinez sits down next to Charlie and wraps a blanket around her shoulders. I take one step forward, then another, and Charlie reaches out for me.

"You're fading," she whispers.

I look down at my hands. I've gone translucent.

"We were both supposed to get out," she sobs. "You were supposed to go home and see your Mom!"

Martinez's eyes grow wide in alarm. "Ah, sir?" he says. "I think she's hallucinating."

James comes in from the hallway and shakes his head. "It's alright, let her talk. We'll mention it to the doctors." He glances at a phone. "The house belongs to a Michael and Anne Jones. The 44th precinct found them at a corner store and has just arrested them." He looks at Charlie, and his face softens. "They'll be punished, Charlotte. I promise."

When James leaves and Martinez has looked away, I carefully reach out to cup Charlie's face in my hands. Her skin is warm in my fading fingers, but I can't tell if she feels me.

"It's alright," I murmur. "Remember what you promised me, okay? You have to fill Jenna's backpack with bouncy balls."

She manages to smile through the tears. "I will," she says. "Thank you."

"I have to go now," I whisper.

Her face crumples, but she nods. "Okay." She quickly wipes all the tears and snot off her face so I can see her clearly. "Goodbye, Andy."

"Goodbye, Charlie."

I leave her in the care of the police and walk outside right as they're wheeling my body out on a stretcher. The face goes uncovered for several seconds, and then James pulls the sheet over my head as the stretcher is lowered next to a body bag. I watch them zip me up, and then I look out at the street.

Jake is standing there, staring at the body bag, his dog in his hands. After the bag is put in a car, his eyes move to me.

He doesn't move as I approach. With each step, I can feel myself fading. My throat no longer hurts. My bones no longer ache. I can't feel the ground underneath my feet.

"Jake," I say. "Can you still see me?"

He's pale and frozen, but he gives me the slightest nod.

I smile. "Will you tell my mother that I love her?"

Jake's face contorts into an expression I can't place, but when his eyes well up with tears, I recognize it as sorrow. "Okay," he chokes out. "I will. I promise."

"Thank you."

And with that, I start walking down the sidewalk. My feelings, my awareness of myself continues to fade until there's nothing left. And at the last moment, just before I'm gone, I allow myself a deep inhale of the fresh air, finally at peace.