Hatchetfield.

My Favourite Person's A Ghost

Grief is one hell of an emotion. No one expects their life to suddenly be flipped upside down in the matter of a heartbeat. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, in the form of the littlest things. An item of clothing the member of the deceased used to wear, listening to the dead's favourites song, meeting the people they cared so much about...it was a lot. It was so much for an average person to comprehend, let alone someone who wasn't quite able to fit into the category of "average."

Richard Lipschitz had been missing for the past two days. He went to the game between the Hatchetfield Nighthawks and the Clivesdale Chemists to do his cheering or whatever it was he did...and he never returned home. A missing person's report came in and the HFPD said they'd do their best to find him. Everyone knew it was a lie. The HFPD didn't care. This was Hatchetfield, after all, people went missing every day! But, there was still the part of Richie's uncle, the person who'd reported him missing, who tried to hold on to hope that he'd been found.

Monday morning came around. 6 AM, long before school was due to start. That didn't mean that the jobs of other people had to come to a sudden stand still, though. At least, not on a normal occasion, but when had anything ever been normal for that family, or for any living on the island?

6 AM and soon enough, Office William Bailey was standing on the doorstep of Richie's uncle's house just off of Main, hands clasped behind his back.

"Mr Matthews?" Officer Bailey started. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to have a talk. It's regarding Richard Lipschitz."

A gust of cold wind swept over the threshold and Paul felt his blood run cold. A knot formed in his throat, but he nodded nonetheless. "O-Of course, officer."

Bailey stepped in to Paul Matthews' home, looking at the taller man. "Get your hands outta your pockets."

"Sorry," he said at once, shutting the door. "I...uh...is Richie okay?"

He said nothing. "I think it's best you take a seat, sir."

Paul's suspicions were confirmed right then and there. No news was ever good if it had to be given when sat down. His words betrayed him, so he let his feet carry him through to the living room where he sat down on the couch. He watched as Officer Bailey followed.

"Mind if I take a seat?" He asked.

"Sure, go ahead."

Bailey did so, looking over at Paul. "You were the person to report Mr Lipschitz missing, correct?"

"Uh, yes I was...he was meant to come home after the Nighthawks game but never did, so I assumed he'd gone to sleepover with one of his friends and that his phone was dead but um...I messaged around...he was with none of 'em so...I put in the report."

"D'you know if there's anyone out there who'd want to hurt your nephew, Mr Matthews?"

Paul tilted his head. "You want names?"

"It could help us figure out exactly what went down."

"...what went down?" Paul glanced over to the cop. "Is...I uh, notoriously, Richie has been bullied by...Kyle Clauger, Jason Jepsen, Brad Callahan...Max Jagerman-"

"Mr Matthews." Officer Bailey said. "A body was found by the janitor of Hatchetfield High this morning."

"...like...a dead body?"

"We would like you to come down to the station. We have reason to believe it was your nephew."

Driving home after identifying the dead body of Richard Lipschitz had been the hardest thing Paul Matthews had had to do. He debated on pulling over to Hatchetfield High, to go and collect his other nephew, Richie's younger brother, but stopped. He'd wait until he was at home. Wait to tell him himself. So, he called into work, said there'd been a family emergency and he wouldn't be able to make it. For a while, he parked on the side of the street and waited. Waited to try to think of what he could possibly to say to the person who loved Richie the most. There was no separating the two Lipschitz brothers, and now, death had claimed one half of them. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Waited to calm down, to try to not make a fool out of himself.