Little Red House

Chapter 3 - Ricky

 Chapter Three       

        I groaned. It was already morning and time for work. I showered, dressed and  went downstairs. I never ate breakfast at this filthy place, memories haunted me too often. Besides it was depressing; eating alone in a dirty apartment with their drunken dad who passed out on the couch. I swear, that couch probably been through more than anything in this place. I grabbed my backpack and jeans, and walked out. The fresh breeze hit me in the face. I took a deep breath. Ah, freedom!

Soon enough I was at the Chevron gas station. The Mini Mart was opened and I could see Ricky's red hair through the glass door. He was like an older brother to me though sometimes he acted like a complete fool, but that's why I loved him. The bell jingled as I entered.

"Sup, Ricky!" I threw my backpack in the back room.

"You're early today," He leaned against the door frame as he spoke.

"Yeah? Well I couldn't sleep."

"Michael again?" I sighed and dropped in the cushion chair.

"No, he's his usual self."

"So.. Is there something you want to say?" Ricky glanced at me in concern.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"What-?" Ricky didn't finish, the front door bell jingled. After he served a customer, he returned.

"So what's up with the.. ghost?" Ricky raised an eyebrow and eyed me carefully.

"Never mind! Just a nightmare," I did my best to pull off an innocent smile. Fortunately, Ricky dropped it and the rest of my shift went smoothly like any other day.

At the end of my shift, I was cleaning up the public bathroom before. Ricky had just walked out the door to head home. I left the door open, humming I grabbed a paper towel and the glass cleaner in the cabinet above the sink. I sprayed the mirror and quickly whipped it in circular motions. As I was putting away the cleaning supplies I heard someone come up to the door. I reached for the air freshener,

"Ricky? I thought you left."

"Who's Ricky?" I could hear the loud thumping of my increased heart rate. I quickly spun around, spraying the air freshener in front of me but no one was there. I heard the voice, I heard him. It was the hooded man. My lip trembled and I screamed. Suddenly, Ricky ran in, dropping his backpack on the way.

"Emma! What happened?" Rick held me in a tight hug. He was wearing his coat and clutched his keys.

"I-I thought you left," I asked, squeezing my eyes.

"I did. But I came back, remembering that I had forgotten my cellphone. Just as I came in, I heard you scream. Emma, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Rick. I'm fine," I pushed him away and took in deep breaths. I couldn't believe  what I heard. It must of been the hooded man! No one else was in the mart.

"Hey, just got home, okay? Let's go get your stuff."

Ricky helped me get my stuff and into the car. Though I was shaken, I assured him I was perfectly fine with driving myself. I drove and thoughts rammed my head. I was sure the night at the red house was just a trick of the night but now, I wasn't so sure. The man, whoever he was, was at the Mini Mart. I couldn't of imagined it twice. My head pounded from all the fear and creepiness that I felt. I decided to head straight to Royal Theater.

****

I watched Ricky strum his old guitar. He sat on a stool up on the theater's stage, tapping his foot and bobbing his head. His hair looked more red in the dimmed stage light. He hummed the tune of our favorite song as he strum the chords. Ricky worked hard and long to earn enough to buy the beautiful instrument. Running the Mini Mart wasn't easy for him, so he had decided to higher someone. That's where I came in after noticing the "Hiring Now" sign at the gas station. Since then we've been close friends, like siblings. I slowly sat in the first row joining his soft humming. Startled, he looked up and then broke into a wide grin.

"You're here."

"Duh, I'm here. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You came to work early, you asked me if I believe in ghosts and you screamed when you were whipping the bathroom mirror," he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh…that. Just a little shaky after the nightmare, remember?"

"Are you sure it was the nightmare. You know, you can tell me if-"

"Hey! Shut up, 'kay? Everything is fine," I assured him.

"Promise?"

"Yeah, dude," I jumped on stage and sat in a stool next to him, "'Kay, let's go."

Ricky started the intro with a few chords and then I joined him in the verse. We had done this since I caught Ricky staring at the music shop across the street. He told me then, he had always dreamed of a guitar, of playing for hundreds of people. I promised him that as soon as he saves enough money and buys a guitar, we will 'preform' in the closed down theater in town. After Ricky purchased his life-long dream, we celebrated in the theater. Pizza, beer bottles and skittles covered the stage. We danced and sang until morning. I haven't had so much fun since Michael started drinking. Anyway, we meet up in this mysterious place each evening, or whenever we could. We sang, we dreamed, we talked, we drank, or we just lay on the couch backstage and watched whatever we found back there. It wasn't the fantastic pool parties with fancy champagne and dance floors. It was just me and Ricky. Stuck in our misfortune fate, enjoying what was left of the sunshine in our dark lives. I love it with Ricky. He was like an older brother; always there to understand, always there to hear me out, always there to punch the wall with me. I loved him for that.