H A U N T E D

e l e v e n

e l e v e n

After school, I call my grandfather to let him know that I'll be walking home, stating my excuse as being that I desperately need to get to a library for school - which isn't a lie. The real reason is, I am not in the mood for the talk that awaits me at home.

I exit the school once I am sure the parking lot is empty, not ready to face the questions of Kofi and his friends. What do I say? Do I use my mother as another excuse? She's not even cold in her grave, and I am lying in her name left and right. The thought of my mother squeezes my insides tight and harshly, hurting me so much that I have to stand still and take a few breaths. I barely take note of my surroundings, but I think I am just wandering through the main street of Homer, hoping to find a bookstore or the town library. I hold onto a pole while I try to compose myself, blinking fast to let the tears in my eyes subside. A painful knot in my throat makes it difficult to breathe, so I try to take a few calculated breaths. It is hard not to think of the 'what-ifs'.

This time last month, I was in New Orleans with my mother and her friends, preparing for my senior year that was only a week away. Now, she's in the ground and I have to live with her estranged father. Gosh, what happened between then and now? We were laughing that last night, weren't we? We had pizza and wine with her friends, the power was off, so we had to make do with some candles. It was a Friday-night and I would have gone on a small trip with a few friends to the beach the next day.

My mother was an eccentric person who could charm the whole world. She would make you contemplate life with one glance, and make you happy with one smile. She'd always sing some Queen song to me and twirl me around as she serenaded me. At night, she'd wait for me to fall asleep before going to bed. Sometimes, neither of us could go to bed because of them. They were always mournful, begging for me to give a message to a loved one, or sometimes they'd just taunt me for the fun of it. Some of them would be raging, digging their nails into me and pulling at my skin, demanding I do them a favor. My mother would climb into bed with me, and hold me tight as I fell asleep. Frequently there were times when she'd stay awake to keep them away, not that she could see them. I guess she felt guilty and was ready to give up her own rest to protect me.

I read somewhere that sleep deprivation could be a factor in why she died. I forced myself to stay awake that night, to feel what she must've felt.

"Are you okay?"

I jump in surprise as a withered face comes into view, staring at me with concern. The elderly woman's eyes are small and gray, her skin crumbled and folded as her age has become obvious to the world. I raise my eyebrows and realize that a few tears were able to escape my eyes. For a moment, I am not sure whether this woman is the living or the dead. I take a deep breath, inhaling the surrounding scents and aromas around me, before realizing with relief that she is not dead. I allow myself to wipe away the tears and give the old woman a smile, feeling embarrassed that I let my emotions take a hold of me. 

"Oh, yes, thank you! I just get severe allergies", I lie and know the woman doesn't believe me, when she narrows her eyes and tilts her head to analyze me. I take the moment to look around me, trying to figure out where I am, and notice I am standing in front of a crystals and alchemy store. My mood lightens significantly, and I smile when I see they're open.

"Do you like crystals?," the old woman asks with new-found excitement in her voice. I turn back to her, and notice her attire. She is dressed in the typical attire one would expect of a crystal shop owner. Her gray hair is tied back with a colorful scarf, with a few beads braided into her hair. She reminds me of the Oracle of Delphi, her eyes full of wisdom and knowledge, her mind holding secrets the world does not know.