Haunted By A Memory

Five Years Old

"I am able to sense if you are in the same room as me, but being able to see you is nice. Especially when we talk." Vincent stated, looking forward to seeing Nikolai majority of the time they spent together.

"Right, the attraction to warmth. Logical considering your apparition essence; despite the ability to appear and feel physical. Pardon my lapse in recollection on that detail. It's easy for me to forget especially now that you are more tangible than before little details such as that." Vincent reiterated, making the bedroom possibility a mute offer, when Nikolai would prefer to be near him. Hmm...that thought didn't do Vincent any favors. An ember of desire reminding him of his attraction towards the ghost ignited in the pit of his stomach at such thoughts. Even though logic dictated to him that just because Nikolai wanted him for warmth, that didn't mean the ghost held attraction towards Vincent in other ways. At these rush of thoughts and feelings Vincent carefully glanced over Nikolai's figure. That too didn't do the man any favors as his mind processed Nikolai's position now not to be one of comfort. But rather one of what a guy does when trying to be subtle when it came to making physiological occurrences less noticeable. Trying did not ensure success. In Nikolai's case less successful when in the company of a knowledgeable man. "No need to worry about me feeling self conscious when you are present Nikolai. Prior to living here, I lived with roommates for enough years that I am no longer self conscious around others."

Vincent felt the topic come to a close and having just heard Niko say he preferred warmth; Vincent was relieved that the ghost wouldn't excuse himself to leave. There was so much they could talk about Vincent pondered what he should discuss first when Nikolai kindly broke the silence and asked a few questions of him.

"Last time I kissed a man would be when I was last intimate...so a one night stand about a year ago. Hmm...maybe two actually. Damn, I hadn't realized that much time had passed." Vincent voiced more to himself then entirely necessary for answering the question.

"The first time I kissed, I was five years old. There was a boy in my kindergarten class. We got along well, liked the same cartoons, we were kind of inseparable. As our friendship grew I looked at him I could easily imagine myself loving him as I saw my parents love each other. So, on Valentine's Day I gave out generic valentine's cards to the other kids of my class as required by all students. But him I made his myself so it would be extra special. It had a drawing of our favorite cartoon characters holding hands and said "I love you. Will you be my Valentine even after Valentine's day is over?" He said yes. Slowly over the course of many minutes spend that we were supposed to be playing on a playground during recess we would find places to hide so we could be together. At first it was just giving hugs in greetings and farewell. Then we started holding hands during recess. Then one day we kissed..." Vincent's eyes grew dazed and a gentle smile of happy memory peeked out of the corner of his lips. "...it was a moment of two kindred hearts expressing love for one another. Beautiful, wonderful, and pure."

Vincent's eyes gained a somber look as he continued his tale, "We had been so long in the moment that we hadn't heard the teacher call everyone to line up. When we weren't seen she went to search the more hidden areas of the playground and saw us. Parents were called. We were asked why and said we loved each other and that's what you do when you love someone. The last time I saw him was that day when all six of us and the teacher walked out of the classroom. My parents were irate at the teacher to have let such inappropriate behavior occur. They said I would be transferred me to a new school and would never have contact with the boy ever again. In a fit of rage and sadness I yanked my hand out of my mom's as she and my father walked me out in the opposite direction. I ran to him. Embracing him fiercely as tears and cries from us both muffled our ability to say anything understandable to one another. My father pried me off and hauled me out. It was the best and worst day of my life. A life from that point on would be spent in many hours of forced therapy, prayer, church attendance, scripture reading, etc. All in effort to try and change something that is immutable: my soul and its attraction to my own gender."

Vincent hadn't recalled that memory so clearly in a long time. He was certain his eyes were glazed over with moisture that threatened to make him look pathetic about something that happened over two decades ago. He gave a faux cough that allowed him to somewhat keep his dignity as he focused on Nikolai's statement to avoid feeling overwhelmed.

When Nikolai voiced he wished to remember all doubts about what Vincent had found out before ceased. "I think you did love someone Nikolai, when you were alive. Here let me show you what I found. Perhaps it will provide you with what you wish to remember." Vincent said and got up long enough to grab his laptop and scooted closer so they both could see the screen with ease. This allowed Vincent's bare shoulder to rest against Nikolai's cloth covered shoulder.

"After reading your article, particularly the part of the confirmation of death threats to you out of allegations in regards to the name Anthony Cadwell. I did some digging into public records and found this. Public record of two crimes Anthony Cadwell committed and was sentenced to death for earlier in the week that your house fire occurred. However it was recorded that Anthony never revealed his accomplice even under extensive questioning in regards to one of his crimes." Vincent clicked on another link and it brought up a picture of Anthony. It was a black and white picture as they didn't have color photos back then. It was taken behind a brick wall with his name and legal inmate number upon a sign he held. A picture taken for records upon his arrest before questioning would begin.