Ghost Kiss

Deacon

      When you join the army you expect one of two things, you diein combat, or you live through it all and come back to pick yourlife back up where you left off. Neither happened to me. My lifewas stolen from me. One night, that's all it took. I was at homeand got a call from a buddy of mine. He was drunk and wanteda ride home. Of course, I went to pick him up, how was I goingto say no? I appreciated that he was being responsible. I justwish everyone that night was responsible. Otherwise, I'd stillbe alive. 

      I've had a lot of time to think since then. It's easy to thinkwhen you're trapped from leaving the same house you livedin. The same house you watched your grandmother mourn youand then spent 7 lonely years before dying herself. I wonder ifshe ever even knew I was here with her that whole time. I triedshowing her, I would move things. But I don't know if she everthought it was me or if she just figured in her old age she was mistaken about where she left things. She got to "move on" Iguess you'd call it. I don't.

      So I spend my days looking out the windows and thinking.Thinking about everything and anything to pass the time. I'velost track of how long it's been. The days bleed together. I don'teven know what year it is. I do know that it's been long enoughfor dust to collect on the few pieces of furniture that were lefthere. Vultures showed up and took almost everything.

      Doesn't really matter I suppose. I don't want anyone here.The last person to walk through the door, and I screamed atthem. They ran back out and I haven't seen anyone since. "Goodriddance," I say to no one but myself. I prefer it this way. Themonotony doesn't bother me anymore.

      I stand at my usual window, the one that is in what once wasmy room. I watch the cars go by wondering to myself if theperson responsible for that night's events ever drove by evenonce. Even if they did I wouldn't know. 

      "What the hell?" Two vehicles have pulled up. One person Irecognize as my grandmother's old neighbor, Earl. He movedaway some time after my grandmother passed. The other is awoman I've never seen before. She's beautiful. But what arethey doing here? And why are they walking towards the door? Idon't like this. 

      They enter the house just as I'm coming down the stairs.Neither react, nor should they I suppose. I'm invisible to theworld. "The house has been empty for quite some time now,no one has really been interested in it. A lady used to live herewith her grandson, sad story that is. He died and I don't thinkshe ever recovered from it. She passed away about 10 years agonow." 

      So it's been 10 years. A full decade I've been stuck here  alone. I can't believe it's been that long. What could I haveaccomplished in that time? A full military career? WouldI be happily married with children of my own? Would mygrandmother have lived longer without having a broken heartand met her great-grandchildren?

      "Oh, that's so sad. I couldn't imagine the pain that poorwoman must have felt and the loneliness. It must've beenhorrible." This woman has some nerve. She didn't even knowmy grandmother. She doesn't need this woman's pity, nor doI. And my grandmother wasn't alone. "I was here dammit!" Iscream at them both. They both stop talking and look around. Ihave no idea how I sound to them, it's been a while since I'vehad to use that much energy at once. But I know they heardsomething."What was that?" the woman asks. "I'm not sure. Probablyjust the house settling, she's an old one and could use somecleaning, but she's strong and still has a great foundation, andall her pipes and wires work. I'm sure some TLC is all she needsand she'll sparkle like she once did all those years ago." Earlsounds like some infomercial and I hate it.

      I can't find it in me to scream again. I want to so badly. I wantthese people to leave, now! But there's nothing I can do until Ibuild my essence back up. All I can do is watch in horror as hehands her the keys to my grandmother's house and wishes hergood luck.

      This is definitely not good.