The Spirit of Ravenshom House

Chapter 8: Haunted Beyond Recovery

Daphne flew her Corolla back to the motel. Cleaning out her desk, walking past her office mates, their eyes burning holes on the back of her head, all she wanted was to get back to Jerry and recount everything to him. He would understand. Jerry was the only one who would understand. The embarrassed faces of her colleagues replayed in her head as she sped her car up leaving the city behind.

When she deposited the box in the corner of the undersized motel room, Jerry was, of all things, cleaning the hoary bathroom of their antediluvian room. Daphne put her hands to her head. That only meant his writers block was domineeringly ongoing.

She pondered if she had to hide her office stuff in the trunk of her car. Telling Jerry that she had lost her job would only add to his stress. And she knew she was giving him enough of that already, if not more without adding being sacked to the list. Then again she didn't want to keep anything from him. She had hidden her visit with the therapist and she was shamefully aware how well that had worked ot.

She prepared herself to unload on him and tapped at the bathroom door. "Sweety," she called out.

"In a second honey," he hollered back. He sat on the bed, bathed and clothed 90 seconds later, which Daphne thought was applaudable.

She didn't know how to start. Jerry was eyeing her fondly, nestling a cup of ink black coffee. He had offered to make one for her too, but she had declined. She had plenty of emotional stimulants to keep her awake and didn't need the caffeine boost. She decided that it was best to start with the worst. "I quit my job," she ventured in.

Jerry's face fell, like tumbling blocks of jenga. "What happened?" he set aside the mug and sat erect, his body forewarn.

"Someone kept prank calling me at the office. On and on and on, it was a nightmare," she didn't dare take her eyes of Jerry's keyed-up face. "Kept calling, but wouldn't talk. All I could hear was this creepy screech at the back like it was coming from somewhere far off. And it just kept going." The frustration in her voice was like a wounded wolf caught in a trap who had tried to escape time and again but failed only wounding itself further. Jerry nodded to her each word, the worry in his eyes growing steadily. His one hand held hers firmly, rubbing at the soft skin below her thumb.

"It wouldn't stop Jerry. It was driving me crazy and I lost it. I went ballistic over the prankster after a few calls, but in all the craziness I didn't check the caller ID and I mistakenly told off one of our clients instead."

Jerry's brows shot up in shock and an unpleasantness washed over Daphne. "I know. I couldn't think straight and then I was really really angry. So I shouted at the whole office and threw my phone away and it hit one of my colleagues."

"You threw a phone at your colleague," Jerry sounded incredulous.

"No, no, I threw the phone to the ground and it bounced and hit the HR on the knee."

"Is he okay? Is he going to sue you?" Jerry's fear now began transferring to her as if a pipe was attached between them her end sucking the angst into her.

"What, no, uh, I don't think so." She faltered. He wouldn't. Would he? Had he been actually hurt? The phone hadn't hit him that bad, had it? The HR had flinched away from her when she had bent to retrieve the phone, but she had thought that it was because of shock not because he had been injured. It couldn't be.

She gulped nervously her eyes landing on her phone, almost expecting a call from a lawyer telling her that they were lodging a complaint against her for physical harassment.

"Its all because of that prankster. It was like he knew how to flip me off. I swear he was watching me, watching my every move. It had to be someone from the office."