Catharsis

SIX

With more effort than should be necessary, I sneak quietly downstairs for some mindless entertainment away from Sammy and her question that I don't have an answer for. Am I okay?

Cool musty air strikes me upside the head as I descend and duck beneath the low clearance. There's probably mold in the walls because my nose starts to itch the second I situate myself on the scratchy wool couch in front of the dinosaur. Also known as the TV straight out of the 80's that could play stunt double to a microwave.

As always, the only thing on is nonsensical news programs and infomercials. It's oddly comforting on dark nights like this when Sammy has to go to work for the graveyard shift and I'm left alone to my thoughts. Something about TV makes me feel less lonely; a reminder that someone else is on the other side of the TV right now watching this same stupid show, the same stupid commercial. Jonah hasn't called me yet, surprisingly. I could call him since I owe him a pizza, but he is probably busy playing guitar for a beautiful woman he found at the pub. Besides, he would just groan and tell me to get my ass to bed.

Lying on my right side, head against the flat throw pillow, I space out. It's a slow hypnosis induced by the flashing blue light of the TV. My eyes are open. I'm watching. But I'm slipping away to a Minocqua Mattress Factory commercial flashing images of smiling people settling on bare mattresses in blue-dark rooms.

"Close your eyes, it's time for sleep!" The catchy jingle goes.

Isn't that the truth. But it's the image of that smokey creature keeping me up. The mere thought of it has the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. I can't seem to peel my thoughts away from it. The darkness. Red armband. A hand that looked exactly like the one in my hallucination. Unnerving.

Maybe I should go to the cemetery and visit Dad tonight. If I can get over his death, this creepy thing might stop haunting me.

Sammy's footsteps clomp down the creaky, wooden stairs. She slinks behind the couch and massages my shoulders as I lie here. Her thumbs dig deep into my sore muscles. It hurts a little, but I remind myself that this is a good pain and let myself relax under the spell of her touch. It doesn't work very well because my jaw is still tightly clenched and my body still aches from the seizure, my mind still aches from the nightmares.

"I love you," she whispers seductively. Leaning down, she buries her nose in my hair and inhales deeply. Then, moving like a graceful dancer, she comes around to the front of the couch, stepping lightly on her tiptoes. She stops in the space between me and the TV.

Her face is wearing a beaming smile between her blushing cheeks. There isn't as much pity in her expression as there has been lately. She looks satisfied. Maybe even happy. And she's beautiful when she takes her index finger and props up the nosepiece of her plastic square-framed reading glasses.

"What are you thinking?" She tilts her head curiously.

"I was just thinking that I'd really like to visit the cemetery. I really need to go visit the cemetery," I correct. "Tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Some things are bothering me."

"Anything I can help with?"

"No," I shake my head as much as I can with it against the pillow. "No, I just need to face this."

"Okay, honey." She hunches down to kiss my five o'clock shadow. "I'm glad that you are ready. That's a big step. I leave at nine, though, so if you want to say goodbye be back before then." Floorboards creak under her light steps as she heads back upstairs.

Taking a deep breath, I push myself off the couch and brush my sweaty palms on my white t-shirt. I rub my eyes and bury a hand in my messy hair. I'm not exactly a picture of sanity right now. Hopefully the ghosts won't judge me.