PARACIDE

Chapter 12: Ghosts of the Past

The walk to the store felt different this time. Sam’s head wasn’t pounding like it usually did, but there was a heaviness in his chest that hadn’t been there before. The streets seemed quieter, the world around him a little more distant. After everything that had happened with Jen, the awkward dinner, and his own breakdown, Sam needed some air—needed to clear his mind. So he decided to go to the store by himself.

He stepped inside the convenience store, the dull hum of the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing like a swarm of flies. Sam wandered down the aisles aimlessly, picking up a few things he didn’t really need, hoping that distracting himself with mundane tasks would help. But the weight in his chest didn’t go away.

As he moved toward the back of the store, reaching for a can of soda, he heard familiar voices—voices he hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. His body went rigid, the can slipping from his hand and rolling across the floor.

His parents.

They were just a few feet away, standing by the snacks. His mom was laughing at something his dad said, the sound of her voice sending a jolt through his system. They looked the same, maybe a little older, a little more tired, but still undeniably them. His dad’s hair had more gray than he remembered, and his mom had a slight limp in her step, but there they were.

Sam stood frozen in place, staring at them, his heart hammering in his chest. For a moment, he thought about going up to them. Thought about saying something, anything. But the words wouldn’t come.

He watched as they moved closer, oblivious to his presence. His mom reached for a bag of chips, his dad scanning the shelves like it was just another day.

They walked right past him.

Not a glance. Not a flicker of recognition.

They didn’t even see him.

Sam’s chest tightened, and for a brief moment, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He stood there, rooted to the spot, watching them as they headed toward the register. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. His parents—his own flesh and blood—had just walked past him like he was a stranger.

Like he didn’t exist.

A part of him had known this would happen. He hadn’t been home in so long, hadn’t called, hadn’t sent any word. He’d left everything behind, thinking it was for the best. But seeing them now, seeing how easily they had moved on without him, hurt more than he thought it would.

He couldn’t shake the thought—Maybe it’s better this way.

They reached the counter, chatting with the cashier, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. Sam felt like a ghost, invisible in plain sight. The throbbing in his head started again, slow at first but growing stronger with each passing second. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep it together, but the weight in his chest grew heavier.

When his parents finished paying, they walked out of the store together, hand in hand.

Sam stood there, watching them disappear into the distance. His hand trembled as he picked up the can he’d dropped earlier, staring blankly at the label.

He was alone.

And maybe that’s what he deserved.

After all, how could they recognize him? The boy they knew was long gone, replaced by someone he barely even recognized himself.

He took a deep breath and made his way to the counter, paying for his things in silence. The cashier handed him his change, but Sam barely registered it. He stepped outside, the cool evening air hitting him like a splash of cold water.

For a second, he glanced in the direction his parents had gone, but he didn’t follow. Instead, he turned and walked the other way, the pounding in his head keeping rhythm with each step he took.

The world felt emptier than ever.