Phantom [h.s]

Thirty Five

Harry pulls away from me so that he can see my face. "What's wrong?" He asks.

I sit up straight, unsure of what to say. I try to think of the best way to put all of this. I clear my throat slightly. "I...okay, so after you left earlier, I got really mad and had a total bitch fit in my room," I say, twisting a lock of hair around my finger nervously. "And I broke the mirror in my room. I threw something at it and it shattered. So...I was looking at it and...and..."

"What?"

"There was...blood on the baseboard of it. And I thought of your autopsy report, and how it said you had shards of glass on you, and you had blunt force trauma to your skull-"

"So I was backed against the mirror," he says slowly, frowning.

"Yeah, it seems that way," I say. "And I looked for a stamp on the back to see when the glass was replaced and it said June ninth at Clyde's Windows and More. So I went down there, and they remembered the mirror. And they told me who brought it in." My voice had lowered to a whisper involuntarily towards the end. I stare at Harry, waiting for his response.

"And whoever that person was is most likely my killer," he says slowly.

I look at my lap, nodding.

"Okay," Harry says. "I don't want you to tell me who it is unless you're absolutely positive it was them that killed me. Are you?"

"Well...no. Not positive."

"All right. Then don't tell me yet."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Down below us, I see my parents' car pull into the driveway. I stand up, and Harry does the same.

"I'm so close to figuring it out, Harry," I say, my voice low.

"I know." He half smiles.

And I know behind his smile he is conflicted-he wants to go to the afterlife, but he doesn't want to leave me. It would be selfish of me to cease helping him for that matter alone. I take a deep breath.

Harry's arm wraps around me and his lips press to mine in a short kiss. He pulls away and looks down at me.

"Be careful," he whispers. "I love you."

Color rises to my cheeks in an instant and I shut my eyes, nodding. "I love you too."

"Good. Now, get out of here before your parents begin to wonder about you." He smiles teasingly and gives me a light shove.

I watch him for a brief moment before turning and leaving.

-

I take a seat on the couch in the living room just as my parents walk through the door. They chatter amongst themselves as they set their bags of groceries on the kitchen counter.

"Hey," I say, standing and walking into the kitchen.

"Hi honey," my mother says. "We picked up pizza for dinner. Are you hungry?"

I nod and begin to unload the bag of food that my father pushed towards me, humming under my breath.

A few minutes later we're sitting at the dining room table, pizza on our plates. My father clears his throat, reaching for a napkin.

"So Jane," he says. "Next weekend your mother and I are going LARPing in Spokane. We'll leave Friday night and be back Sunday morning."

"LARPing?" I ask. "What the hell is LARPing?"