The Haunting

The New Kid

For as long as I can remember, I used to have a dream - the same dream. It wasn't every night, but it was frequent.

In the dream I was around five or six, and there was a boy, whom I called Ebee, who was around the same age. We were in a beautiful garden with a pond. We would sit around the pond and talk for hours, and run and chase each other.

But then the sky would turn dark and I could hear a woman screaming for us as the sky would rip apart with lightening and loud clashes of thunder. When I would look back, Ebee was being picked up by a man riding a horse and I was then being chased.

Then, I'd find Ebee floating in the pond, face down. He died for me, I don't know how I knew that, but somehow I knew he died protecting me. Suddenly, in the dream, I was at a funeral. His funeral.

That's when I would wake up.

Every time.

Almost always the same.

Then, one day in eighth grade, when I was in my pre-Algebra class I heard the teacher talking about a new student coming to our class and she asked him to introduce himself in the class, and I swear, she called him Ebee!

My head shot up from the paper I was doodling on, my eyes wide in surprise.

This couldn't be him, I thought as my chest tightened.

It was just a dream. Wasn't it?

My brows knitted together in confusion. This couldn't be Ebee, not my Ebee, as in my dream he was dead. I relived his funeral over and over, starting from before I had even attended my first funeral to know what one really was.

Yet, here he stood before me. Tall, with long light brown hair and soft brown eyes.

When the bell finally rang, I grabbed my stuff and raced to the cafeteria. I had to tell my best friend about what had just happened.

But my confusion grew as I talked to her. She had a class with him too, but swore his name wasn't Ebee. She said his name was Eric Blankenship (A/N: Again, name changed for privacy reasons.) but I shook my head, knowing that wasn't right. I knew him, I saw him! Not to mention, I know I heard my teacher call him Ebee.

Yet, she insisted I had to have heard wrong.

That's when it hit me. I wasn't calling him Ebee, I was calling him E.B., as in his initials!

I never did get the courage to say anything to him, not that I would have ever even known what to say!

The next year, we sat next to each other in English. We got to pick our seats, and he sat next to me. I told myself it was a coincidence, but all year I sat there getting side-eyed by him. Maybe he was still protecting me, but I don't know from what.

The next year we became sort-of friends, as we had another class together. It was an easy friendship, but not a deep meaningful one. It was causal where we would just say hi and ask how each other was when we'd see each other.

My junior year of high school, he moved again and he's been gone ever since.

But I can't help feeling like there was supposed to be some reason he came into my life, and I was never able to figure it out.

That's a puzzle that will probably always bother me. I didn't want to be the weird crazy girl that scared him, but maybe he felt the same way and thought I'd think he was crazy if he ever said anything to me.

I can't remember specifics anymore, as so much time has passed since it's really happened, but when I was growing up I'd have dreams all the time where something in them would spark me knowing something before anyone had ever said anything, or even leading to me knowing things I should have never known.

I chalked the Eric experience up to something like that. But it still doesn't make sense as it wasn't anything that really had any impact on me.

Why did I need to know Eric would one day come in my life?

I've thought about seeing if I could track him down on social media. But what's the point now, after so many years have passed?

I'm sure, even if there was something back then, he wouldn't even remember now.

Sigh.

I should've taken the opportunity when I was younger to get to know him better and maybe I would have eventually been able to solve the puzzle that is E.B.

_______
A/N: I know this isn't exactly paranormal or even creepy in the traditional sense. But it was something unsettling that Charlie went through. For her, it was just another brick piled up on a wall that was slowly suffocating her. Ever since she moved into that house.

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