Phantom [h.s]

Twenty Six

I try to shut my eyes and fall asleep but I am unable to silence my thoughts for the night. Too much has happened today and is still happening. Tomorrow is the press conference that will release the autopsy report, and the case will be officially reopened. I'm supposed to meet Harry at the cemetery before school, but I don't see how I can possibly go to school. There is far too much going on.

I sit up in bed and look out my window. Above the tops of the trees where I know the clearing to be is the faint glow of light. The police are still surveying the clearing and trying to clean up some of the mess made by digging up the body. I don't like that the small clearing that was previously only accessed by Harry and me is now public. Photojournalists are no doubt taking pictures of it for the paper and the news, and reporters are scribbling observations of it for tomorrow's news.

I'm sure by tomorrow there will be tons of stories on local news stations and papers, and maybe even the national news. I can see it now: Harry Styles Murder Case Reopened After Body Recovered.

His picture will be on the front, maybe the same one that I have of him. There will be quotes from his parents perhaps, or maybe Detective Whitmore. Maybe my father will read the story over breakfast, furrowing his brow, wondering how the body of this person wound up in a clearing behind our house. And I would sit across from him at the table, wondering the same thing.

I lean over towards my bedside table, reaching for the necklace. My fingers brush the chain and I take it into my hand, the silver smooth and cool. I trace the Latin lettering with my fingertips, hearing the phrase spoken in my mind with Harry's voice.

Mors non est finis.

Death is not the end.

I imagine Harry holding this necklace in his hand after hearing news of his grandmother's death, staring down at the same words inscribed into the tiny silver bones and wondering if the phrase was true.

I am different. Because of Harry, I don't have to wonder.

I can't decide if I am thankful for that or not.

I fall asleep with the necklace tangled around my fingers, the skull pendant pressed to my palm.

-

"I'm off to work. Are you sure you're alright here for the day?"

I nod to my father from the kitchen table as I pour myself a heaping bowl of Lucky Charms. My mother has already left for work, and my father is currently taking his oatmeal out of the microwave. They have decided to let me stay home today after I woke up at four in the morning and pestered them about it until they consented. With everything that happened yesterday, there was no way in hell I was going to go to school.

So, reluctantly, they are letting me stay home.

Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, my father picks up his jacket and oatmeal before kissing my forehead and walking out the back door.

I finish eating my cereal and put away my dishes, moving to the living room and turning on the TV. I flip through the channels until I find the local news station.

The press conference should start soon. Nerves build up within me and I pick at my nails anxiously, wondering whether I have enough time to meet Harry at the graveyard before the broadcast of the press conference starts.

My wonderings are erased as I look over to see Harry stepping through the living room wall. He wears the same troubled expression that he had last night.

"I thought you might be watching the press conference," he says, taking a seat beside me on the couch.

I nod, moving over to make more room for him. A weatherman talks about next week's forecasts on the television.