In the Name of Victims

Reads: 101  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
Millions of people have seen odd occurrences that happen in their homes. They see inanimate objects moved from one place to another. They see that their car keys are not in the same place where they put them the night before. They notice that something is whispering to them across the room when they look around and see no one is there. They can feel the cold when no window is open when they wonder about the home that they live in and the past that resides in that home that they never knew before. This is a story that is similar to that.

Submitted: July 10, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 10, 2019

A A A

A A A


The fault is not her own. When she was a kid, she had a hard time fitting in. All the children like to put the nasty worms in her hair and call her names right into her face. Elementary school was a bad time for her when she started to see that the world is nothing but ugly to her, looking down at the sidewalk every morning to meet the people that will give her more of the negative energy that she does not desire. The ugly worms in her hair wiggled from time to time when she screamed, pulling them out with her spindly fingers doing all the work. The people that she grew up alongside laughed at her when she got older and her drive to middle school is like a stake in the center of her heart that she cannot pull out, meeting her first friend that is not a student at all but her teacher.

The teacher’s name is Mr. Kuller and he taught English Composition at a level that is comfortable for her to understand. She worked on the other subjects – along with math and science with these subjects being the best in her qualities, burning the night oil to the point that it is almost midnight when she looked at the clock, being amazed at the homework that she has done when she closed the book and laid the pencil upon it with all the dent lines of former students that used the book for the past couple of years. The night is cloudy outside, hoping for rain when Jasmine turned off the light and then scooted to bed with her mind not tired at all.

Her head hit the pillow before she even realized it. By the time she woke up in the morning she felt something that crawled on the top of her hand when she raised her hand up from the ground of where it lied to see a big black ant that crawled along her skin. She groaned in disgust and waved the ant off of her hand when the alarm clock turn on and scared the living hell out of her. She groaned again, not getting enough sleep when she rubbed the crust out of her eyes. She got up from the bed with her feet touching the carpet, feeling cool to turn off the alarm clock when she swore she didn’t leave the window open a crack. She closed the window and then looked at the book that is on the desk when the book is open to the page where she left off the night before when she cocked her head and then looked around the room for any signs of someone being in her room. Jasmine called for mother when she realized that mom is already at work when she looked at the book and then wondered who is messing in her room as of late?

She touched the book and then closed it when a loud motorcycle roared down the road, making her look at the window that is still closed, still hearing the sound of the motorcycle that crawled up to the intersection that is just down the road. The sun came up in the east when she knew that she only had thirty minutes left to get to school as she left her room to go to the kitchen to get a bottle of fruit smoothie from the bottom shelf of the fridge, shaking it and drinking it with delight when she didn’t eat in the morning. She looked at the picture frames that are in the hallway when she kept the drink in her hand, wondering who moved the picture frames upon the wall when she corrected them with her one hand, touching the last frame in her stride as the corner jabbed her in the thumb when she winced at the sight of blood from the wound.

“Ow.” She looked at the wound that is on her finger with the blood that is overfilling when she squeezed her index finger with the thumb, creating blood seal that is between the points with no measure of space between those fingers when she hurried to the bathroom to take care of it.

While she is gone, the pictures on the frame moved a little with no one touching them. Jasmine bandaged up the wound when she felt the chill in the air, seeing her breath come out of her mouth when she wondered where the cold is coming from. She shivered when the book in her room opened up with the spine crinkling on the page where she left off. The pages flipped in silence when the window in her room opened up again in a slow and steady roll.

Later in the day after she went to school she came home, not seeing what happened this morning when the pictures on the wall are readjusted and the book is closed along with the window that is closed when Jasmine got her possessions for school. She came in from the backdoor, locking it behind her when she dropped her bag on the living room couch and then scurried to the kitchen to get something to eat. For a moment when she entered the kitchen she saw something for a split second. What the split second was is a boy that sat in the middle of the kitchen with his head buried along his knee, looking at the wall with a blank stare upon him. She saw this before the floor became apparent to her senses again when she wondered how much sleep has she been getting for the past few months now.

For sleep it has been hard for her as of late. She has known to sleepwalk from time to time when she can remember the images of dreams that she had never lived before, seeing a wooden box in the frame of this space when the cries are not her own and the light is not where it is met to be in the first place. There is something in the hand when it is lit, casting shadows in the box when the lighter felt hot in the hand – actually felt hot with the glow when the lighter is snuffed out, hearing the sound of the gentle breathing in the length of the box. When Jasmine woke up, she is upon the floor of her room, lying on her back with her eyes staring at the baby blue that colored the ceiling. She wiped the crust from her eyes when she was lying there for god knows how long? What was she doing, hoping that the latches upon her window are locked when she looked at the locked latches and noticed that the knob ends are pointing to the right. Jasmine breathed the sigh of relief when she got up from the floor in her night clothes, hoping that mother did not find her when she knew that she didn’t as she changed her clothes to hide the secret.

She walked in her sleep but she has not done that in over two years. Now she is doing it again. There has to be a reason to it when she started to find something to eat in the kitchen. She is parched with all the bad blood and is thrown upon her as she found a can of Spaghettios in the back of the pantry, closing the pantry door when something landed on her hand, looking at it and seeing a spider when she wailed, smacking the spider off of her hand as the can of Spaghettios tumbled and rolled upon the floor. She hates creepy, crawly things when she breathed in and out for a few seconds, coming down to retrieve the can of Spaghettios that is upon the floor when she arrived to the counter to find the can opener there. She opened it and then felt something tingle on the back of her neck. She hoped it was not another spider when she soothed it, finding nothing when she sighed as the world outside became a little darker one minute at a time.

When mother came home, Jasmine was doing her studies in her room with the pencil and cell phone in both of her hands. Mother opened the door to her room when Jasmine turned her head to see mother in a disheveled state. Mom didn’t say anything when she closed the door. Jasmine knows what is going on in Mother’s world in a slight level and it is to the point that it is almost killing her. Mother has been working hard for the past four months now with no day off when Jasmine knew that there is a lot of bad news that is going down the chain at work. Jasmine didn’t want to say anything when Jasmine came back to work with the phone in her hand, doing calculation on her phone when the cold in the room came up in a roaring force.

She can see her breath come out of her mouth when something made an imprint upon the bed. She didn’t see this when the window rolled slightly open under no power but the power of the air. She felt the air upon her when she looked up and saw that the window is open a crack when she set her phone and pencil down to close the window with no thought. When she grabbed the window and rolled it closed is when the window blew in and the face of a small child appeared through the shards of broken glass.

“No pleasure and pain.” The child barked at her when she woke up from the dream with the phone dropping to the floor and the pencil broke in half in one hand. In is night outside when she felt the coolness of the window that she did open when she looked at the page that she is looking at in her book before she fell asleep. What she found on the top of the page that is scrawled there ran her blood cold. What is written there is “No Pleasure and Pain” in thick pencil lead when she noticed that the first half of the pencil that is broke has no point upon it. The light is dim in her room when mother opened the door after her nap and looked at her with growing worry set upon her eyes.

“You are going to wreck your eyesight, girl.” Her mother scolded her when she came across the room to turn on the lamp that is upon her desk. She looked at the book and then closed it before mother had a chance to look at it. She didn’t want to freak her out when Mother looked at that pencil that is broke in half and is still in her hand.

“Did you get too stressed out, dear?” Her mother yawned when Jasmine looked at the pencil and then looked at her with bleakness of a person that didn’t know what is going on in the measure of space and time that lasted for more than an hour and a half.

“No.”

“Do you have a test that is coming up?” Her mother asked of her when Jasmine shook her head, smiling when she did it.

“Okay.” Her mother looked concern before she corked her thumb towards the open door of her room, casting dim light from the hallway where there is only one light in the hallway to begin with. The lights in the hallway are burning out one by one for the past three weeks now. Jasmine’s mother knew about this when she changed the bulbs out again and again and the lights kept burning out. She had mere understanding on the odd deal as well. Jasmine knew of this when the cold bit her again and again when she didn’t understand what is going on in her room as of late. She kept this happening from her mother when she moved in the seat, thinking about this when she sighed.

“We are going to have some homemade subs in a little bit. Do you want a fruit smoothie?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Her mother smiled.

“Don’t be too long, okay?” Her mother kissed her on her forehead as she left the room.

“Did you notice what happened to the television?” Her mother turned and touched the trimming on the door. Jasmine looked at the lamp and did not make eye contact with her.

“No.” Jasmine shook her head.

“What do you mean?”

“Well it looks like someone scratched the screen with nails.”

Jasmine looked at the lamp on her desk and then shook her head.

“No. I don’t know what happened to the television.”

Mother stared at her for a couple of seconds before she nodded her head and left her room when Jasmine sighed, feeling the cold flow into the room when she looked at the window in her room and realized that it is closed. She can see her breath when something sat on the bed, making an imprint upon the mattress when Jasmine looked at the window before something fell from the nook of her trophy collection and shattered millions of glass fragments everywhere. She cried and then placed her hand over her heart when mother yelped up from the kitchen, asking her what is going on up there?

“Nothing,” Jasmine replied.

“It was just a picture frame. I will clean it up.” Jasmine got up and looked at the broken image in the glass, noticing that it is her debate club trophy that she won two years ago at a state debate convention with people from a town that she cannot name off the top of her head. How in the hell did it land on the floor? She didn’t know when she left the room to get the hand broom and the dust pan from the kiddie closet that is across her room. When she came back she noticed the imprint that is on the bed, being a little too wide with her bottom when she went to clean the glass up that is on the floor. She did this with ease and she did this with the grace of feeling bad that one of her trophies is broke. This made her heartfelt sad indeed.

In the time that is later she is sitting at the dinner table with her mother discussing about the shed behind the house. For what reasons that it makes with Jasmine it is not of interest to her at all.

“You know that it is rotting on the sides and we have all of Grandma’s things in there.” Her mother is looking at the sub that is on the plate with no appetite in her belly. She needed to eat. She has not eaten all day.

“I know that but my trip to Washington is next month.” Jasmine didn’t get the relevant conservatism of being an adult in the eyes of her mother. Mother is fighting with two possible facts with that theory as well with one being a lifetime of bad news and the other being a mistake if it is not resolved soon. She is torn on the subject that always comes down to money, money, money. Her mother closed her eyes and began rubbing her forehead a little so the point doesn’t attract to her daughter. She looked out the window and then to her daughter.

“I know but the property and insurance bills are coming in on the 5th. I don’t know if I have the money to squeeze three hundred into the mix. I’m really sorry but you can’t go.” She sounded hurt when she said it. Jasmine looked at the sub that is on the plate when her rage went along with her body before she even realized it. She grabbed the sub from the plate and threw it across the room, bouncing off the wall like a dried up sponge.

“Every time I…” Jasmine started up and stopped, touching the top of the table with her palms face down upon it.

“Every time I wanted to do something it doesn’t happen. People laugh at me that I have to wear the same book bag from three years ago, again and again!” Jasmine came up from the table as mother didn’t look at her. She only looked out the window in bitter disgust for herself now.

“I have on one to cry a shoulder on and that is all I want to do right now! Why does it have to be me? Why?” Jasmine started to cry when she stormed up the steps and slammed the door of her room closed in complete anguish.

Her mother’s tears rolled down her eyes when she started to curse herself. She looked at the sub on the plate and then rolled her arm across the table, smashing the plate and the sub upon the wall when she started to throttle, getting up to fetch the whiskey bottle that is in the freezer. She took four gulps before she winced, doing a dance with the fire and cold of it all hitting the tips of her toes. The music started to turn up in her daughter’s room when she snapped a finger at the ceiling and then started to cry harder. She put the bottle on the counter and then took a paper towel to wipe away her tears. There is nothing more to be said upon the night. On this night with Jasmine scowling in the room, something sat upon her bed again with Jasmine’s face over the clean cut polish of the desktop, scowling to the point that she didn’t even want to do her homework. She scribbled the pencil on the paper when the cold embraced her again, making her look at her window that is still closed when the bulb for the lamp fluttered in its filament a little, making her look at the lamp when she wondered how long it is going to be before she fixed that bulb in the lamp. She looked at the lamp before it stopped fluttering when she got back to work with the paper getting a little less space and her mind getting to the point that she is so tired that she cannot even see anymore.

The shape of many forms invoked from the shadows when Jasmine looked at the odd form that is happening upon her bed when she dropped the pencil and looked at it that swirled in the air, forming the soul of a boy that sat upon her bed with some infliction of confusion that is set upon his expression. He looked around the room, talking to himself when he looked at Jasmine when Jasmine looked at him with eyes that are as big as frisbees.

“What?” She whispered when she came out of her chair when the boy also looked at her with the same course of someone seeing him in this endless course of being in the prison of this house. He looked at the girl when the girl looked at the boy when the boy croaked, pointing his finger out the window when he spoke to a person the first time in time that he had forgotten in calculation.

“I can’t leave this place.” The boy didn’t make eye contact with the girl when Jasmine started to back up towards the door that is closed, moving closer and closer to the knob of the door with her mind running three hundred miles an hour.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” The boy stuttered a little.

“I just want to leave before she comes back.” The boy implored her when Jasmine opened the door when the form of the boy disappeared in the light like a whip, There is no one that sat upon the side of the bed when Jasmine breathed in the room, wondering what in the hell happened when she couldn’t touch or see the sight of her bed when she left her room in a calm and complacent manner. She sauntered down the hallway, looking at the door that is partially open behind her when she thought about the house, wondering if it is haunted when she found the top of the stairs and traveled down the steps, seeing the darkness of the hallway below her when she swore she heard the sounds of water dripping from the kitchen faucet.

The darkness is around the room, not a light casting on any part of it when Jasmine entered the hallway with her mother’s snoring coming from the room above as she heard the sound of the water dripping in the kitchen. She had to get something to eat, wrapping her head around what she had seen when she entered the kitchen and flipped the light on. The countertop is clean with not a single dirty dish on the wooden top. The microwave that is big and bulky is sitting with the door partially open and the plug pulled out of the wall so it will not draw electricity. The knives are all set in their place when Jasmine looked at the water that is forming in a heavy drop that came from the faucet when the drop could not sustain anymore, coming off of the faucet and pattering into the sink when Jasmine went to the fridge to make herself a baloney sandwich. She did this with slowness as her mind tried to contemplate of what she had seen when the plate of the sandwich is set out in front of her upon the table that is in the dining area. The lights burned over the table when she knew that the darkness enfolded in the rooms next door as she felt like she will not eat when she wondered what is happening in this house. Is this house haunted? Is this house holding a secret that she doesn’t know? Jasmine sat there when out of nowhere there is something that is sitting on the other side of the table in the shape of a woman that is in nasty sort indeed. She looked at Jasmine with eyes that are as dark as coal and her hands that are blacker than the dirt that is underneath the surface when Jasmine looked over the table and jumped back to the sight of the woman that showed up in an instant out of nowhere.

“Where is that little runt?” The woman asked of Jasmine in a demeaning manner.

“Where is that little bastard?”

Jasmine looked at the woman with her heart beating in her chest. Her inclination is confirmed. This house is haunted. That is the truth on the matter when Jasmine didn’t touch the table as she looked at the woman in the torn and tattered dress with her face all black like the worker from a coal mine.

“Why do you want to know?” Jasmine shuttered when she is crazy to be thinking about it. For a normal person, she would be calling the priest right now on what is happening when she didn’t move a muscle as she sat there. What is wrong with her when she thought about that in her own mind?

“I have something for him then I can be back with my lover again.” The woman sneered when she came closer to the table with her body creaking and cracking like a pretzel stick that broke in three places.

“He is keeping me here from my lover.” The woman barked when out of nowhere appeared a bottle that is upon the table. From the looks of the bottle, it is the shape of an old mason jar that is green in color with a glass lid with a thick wire around the lid above the seal to keep whatever is inside closed tight. There is nothing in the jar when the woman continued to look at Jasmine like a person that should not be here to begin with.

“I have to send him back to his room to think about what he has done.” The woman smiled rather crazily. Jasmine didn’t know but she had an assumption of what is happening when Jasmine couldn’t do anything but sit there. What is she to do?

“He has been a dirty little bastard indeed to put me here along with him. He is a dirty, selfish boy. He needs to be punished. He needs a whooping.” The woman grabbed the jar and held it in both of her hands. She was not smiling anymore when she brought forth the bottle to Jasmine. Jasmine looked at the bottle before backing up, shaking her head when the woman brought forth the bottle further as Jasmine jumped up from the table and then backed away.

“Why are you so hesitant?” The woman looked at her with those cold, dead set eyes.

“Why won’t you let me go back to my lover?” The woman jumped up from the table, coming around the table to meet Jasmine on the other side.

“Take it and send him back to his prison. That is all I want.” The woman pleaded with Jasmine when Jasmine shook her head. The woman started to get violent when the woman pushed the bottle into Jasmine’s chest when Jasmine can feel the bottle – actually feel it when Jasmine looked at the woman when the woman started to scowl with her teeth clenching.

“Do what you are told!” The woman barked when Jasmine woke up at her desk with the pencil in her right hand. The light from the lamp is burning when Jasmine looked at the wall that is across from the desk, yawning when she looked down at the book with no mark in it when she closed the book and then got ready for bed. She kept the light on in her room upon this night, making her feel comfortable when she fell asleep before she even realized it.

By dawn with all the clouds in the sky, she woke up to one eye open and the other eye tucked into the pillow. She looked at the clock that is beside her bed when she noticed that she woke up five minutes before the alarm clock went off when she groaned and turned off the alarm clock and then got up with her imprint upon the bed. She moseyed to the bathroom and started to brush her teeth when she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing something out of place when she looked at the color of her eyes with one being hazel and the other being green. She looked at her eyes and then blinked a few times before her eyes are just green again, both of them when he started to wonder what she just saw when she spat out of the foam and then cleaned off the toothbrush. She got ready for school when she did this in less than ten minutes. By the time she showed up for the bus stop, she kept to herself, messing with her fingernails when someone bumped up against her when she looked, seeing no one there when she wondered in odd stance of what bumped up against her when she looked around for that person that did this?

Jasmine didn’t find anything when the clouds brightened up just a little, making a dim glow in the world around her when the bus is sounding off before the physical form of the bus arrived. Jasmine moved her backpack on her shoulders and then waited for the bus to stop. When it stopped is when the doors opened, revealing the fat and repulsive face of Ollie Waters with the stench of something foul that he rolled into the night before. Ollie Waters, a man that does not stand too tall (height: 5 feet; 4 inches) but has the anger that is slight as a Lion with a bad stinger in its paw and a temper that is shorter than the wick of one firecracker. He looked at the children like little ants when Jasmine stood in the back of the group with the smaller sects of groups talking with each other. Jasmine felt left out of the conversation when she started to feel bad, almost bad enough to cry when she started to hang her head down to the ground.

Her feet started to move with her mind deep in depression when she met the steps that led up to the aisles of where the bus seats are. The seats are almost full, being that of being the last stop on the route when Ollie Waters looked at the big reflector mirror that is bolted up over his head. His eyes are not cheery at all when he sat in his seat, thinking of something that is not meant for the sight or hearing of children when he looked at Jasmine, being the last one on the bus when Ollie’s face turned into some of feeling of deep regret of something he felt in a past that is long ago when Jasmine drove further into the back of the bus and sat down, dropping the bag between her legs when she looked up and did not look around her. Ollie felt bad for the one girl that always comes in last when he sees one of his prized passengers hold up a straw in one hand when Ollie Waters thrummed his voice up above room level. The passenger of his little voyage stopped when Ollie Waters stared in blank protest in his eyes like his eyes are breathing fire, giving him a clear warning in his eyes that have not seen happiness in over the many years of the pain and suffering that he has seen when the kid lowered the plastic tubing and then faced out the window with a darken secret of his own that wished his father would not find out.

Ollie Waters closed the door to his bus and engaged the transmission into D when he drove out of the dirt siding of the street, picking up more students on the way. Ollie felt the rush of the headache come on in his brain when he breathed in and breathed out. He drunk a whole pint of whiskey the night before, wondering how in the hell he is doing it when he continued to drive with his brain beating out the anvil chorus. He kept both hands on the rig when he never felt so tired in his life before. Jasmine looked out the window to the sun that is rising in the sky when she felt her body bounce in limpness to the failed shocks that are on the bus. Her mind has been split over the course of the past few days with her dreams being in the mix of entireties that she had never lived before. She remembered being in the house that she had lived most of her life in the dream when she looked down and saw the hands of another child. She couldn’t move those hands as she couldn’t move the head that is playing out a show that she cannot understand with the television on, tuned to a showed called “Zoom” which she never heard before when someone came into the room, feeling what this child is thinking when she knew that the child knew that it is mother with her hair disheveled and her mind to the point that is past the instance of all sanity.

The woman looked at the child when she asked the child about something that she cannot mouth out the words when the scene changed into a basement with cobwebs, old board games, and wooden boxes that are stuck in various corners in the dank space. The lights are on in the basement with something metallic and boxy in the room when the man and the woman stood there in portrait stance, looking at her when she realized what it is when she tried to run away and couldn’t when she woke up before the alarm clock went off on the end table beside her. She turned it off when this scene happened in various complacencies when she dreamed. She dreamed, not remembering half of it when she woke up in the few mornings with tears down her face. She sat on the bus now, looking out the window to the sunrise when Jasmine wondered if the child had ever seen the sunrise before. She didn’t know what happened when she knew she did her homework the night before and then remembered that she didn’t sleep in between of her homework sessions.

The dreams though are what are haunting her the most when she looked at the mirror that is over the front of the bus driver’s windshield that is bolted to a metal rod that is fastened to the frame of the bus. Ollie looked at the mirror than looked out the windshield from time to time with that same look of dead upon his face when he met Jasmine and then looked out through the windshield some more. Jasmine looked around the bus to see the conversations dwell about in the metal haul that drove to school every week morning. She is lost in her mind when she thought about talking to mother when she felt the slight measure of not feeling this before but knowing what is going on when she thought about this for a quick second.

I am afraid to stay in that house. Jasmine knew that is pure nonsense when she brushed that aside until the night again when something that got moved out of place that made her mother pissed something awful. As they sat at dinner with Jasmine’s homework halfway done, mother didn’t talk on the other side of the table. She looked at her plate before she opened her mouth and then closed it when mother looked up at Jasmine and started in what is eating her mind for so long.

“I have to ask you something about your father’s ring.” She felt a little hurt by accusing her only daughter when she corrected her throat, grunting to clear the gunk out of it when she gulped.

“I came into my bedroom today and I couldn’t find it on the bedside table next to the ceramic cow. You know the one with the inscription on the inside that marked the date when we were married? Do you know anything about that?”

Jasmine looked at the homemade beef stew that is in front of her. She shook her head when she took a sliced carrot on the table spoon and fed it into her mouth when Mother looked down at the bowl and continued to play with the beef chuck in the beef broth. The lights in the room are casting shadows on the wall like little plays when Jasmine started to feel the slight tension between each other when she felt like she didn’t want to eat anymore. She lowered the spoon into the bowl when mother didn’t want to look at her as she continued to fiddle the spoon that is in the bowl. She started to look troubled when her brow flared up and down.

“I held his hand at the end. When it was done I took the ring off of his finger and set it on my bedside, never moved it as I looked at it before I went to bed every night. I woke up this morning with the light coming in and I didn’t see one glint of that ring that is there. I searched all over the room for it and I couldn’t figure out how it moved from the bedside to god knows where. There are only two people in the house and you are prone to sleep walk from time to time. So I am wondering if you walked in your sleep and did something that you don’t know that you did.”

Jasmine looked at her and then looked at the bowl with her mind a little bewildered at the fact that could be the probable. She scoffed with intention being quaint and true on that matter. Sleepwalkers though are fueled by the prospect of something that is stitched to into their subconscious and something about that ring is not even any problem that she can fathom. That is the line that didn’t make any sense to Jasmine when father died when Jasmine was under a year old.

“If you are saying that in my patterns of late night walks, you are saying that I somehow took the ring in my sleep and set it somewhere where you can never find it? Why would I do that, mom? What possible idea would I do that even if I was awake?”

“To get me back for Washington which what it is what?” she detested, folding her hands together over the bowl when Jasmine knew that is not the issue here. Mother is hurt on losing that ring and she cannot find it and she is lashing out on grief.

“You think that probability of something so minor is what I can do to you for something that is so great of harm? I never even thought of that ring. We talked about dad which I never have one memory of him in my entire life. He died mom; falling off of the top of a ladder rung of where he was not supposed to have been there in the first place cleaning out gutter leaves.”

“I am not going to go through this.” Her mother jumped up from the chair and then hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind her to the kitchen of where her bottle of booze is. Jasmine looked at the door and then placed her hand on her forehead. She grabbed the spoon from the bowl and then gritted her teeth when she moved the vegetables around in the broth before she slammed the spoon back down on the bowl and then jumped up from the chair, running to her room and shutting the door. She started to cry when she wondered what in the hell is happening between us when she thought about turning on the stereo but didn’t. She looked at her hands when she remembered some of the dreams when she looked at the door to her room and then looked at her hands again. She thought about something when she left the room and bumped down the stairs, leading to the kitchen and then looking at the door to where she needs to go when she has not gone down to the bowels of the house in the past two years.

She breathed in, collecting the broom that is stuck in the corner of the kitchen and looking at the cracks that are in the corner when she started to feel the shakes that are within her hands. She looked at the closed door of the kitchen, knowing that mother grabbed the bottle and walked outside to drink in silence when Jasmine hated the basement with her claustrophobia settling in. It took all of her energy to go to that door with the knob feeling hot in her hand and her goosebumps appearing on her arms when she opened the door and saw nothing but black that is beyond the stairs that looks never ending to her. That is when she turned on the light when the little boy appeared at the bottom of the steps that jumped her out of the place of where she stood. The entire body is coaxed in silhouette with no light upon his face when he stared up at the top of the steps to the girl that is standing there with the broom that is shaking in her hands.

The boy didn’t move when he looked past the banister at the corner of the basement below when he looked up at the stairs again.

“Come.” The boy said before he turned his feet towards the further spaces of the basement and left the eyes of Jasmine that is shaking to the core. Jasmine kept the broomstick in his hands when she looked around the kitchen, feeling the lights of the room getting darker by the second before Jasmine looked down, wondering and thinking about the dreams that she is having when she started with her leg coming down the steps, hitting the top of the step before she rebounded and then came up from the steps with the broomstick still in her hands.

“Are you going to come down or am I going to come and get you?” The boy spoke from the darkness of the basement when Jasmine flinched. That is when she gulped with sweat coming down their face before she started to walked down the stairs a second time, leading into the dark dankness of the basement when the boy in shadows stood against the wall. The old artifacts from the past are cobwebbed and caked in dust when Jasmine turned and looked at all of it, trying to be calm if possible.

The boy in the shadows stood there with no image upon his face when he pointed over to the corner where something colorful and lavish that is folded up against the plastic bins that are stacked three high.

“Grab that chair and let’s begin.”

“Begin what?” Jasmine heard the shudder in her voice when the boy continued to point at the chair that is stuck up. Jasmine then collected the chair, unfolded it, and then sat it down in the center of the basement with the boy standing in front of him.

“Do you know what day it is?” The boy asked of Jasmine.

“Today – is the day of my birthday. I would have turned 25 today if something bad didn’t happen to me.” The boy told Jasmine when Jasmine didn’t say anything, just moved in her chair a little when the boy smiled as he looked down at his clothes and then looked back up at Jasmine with no other thought of what he wanted to say. Then he started to begin with the simplicity of what was his existence.

“When I was born the next door neighbor didn’t know I existed. I never even left the house when mother kept me in the basement in secret. The reasons I couldn’t understand but I knew when I got older that my mother was crazy and my father was even more crazy but whatever. They taught me my ABC’s and ran me through American History like clockwork. I learn to read when I was three years old. My father was one of those, “End of the World” chums that kept me from the world as he drunk every night with a gun in his hand, talking about the evils of the world that are hiding in secret.

“’The world is dirty, sucked from the goodness like the yoke from an egg’, he said when he continued to drink that hard whiskey. He took the gun out of the front of his pants and then waved it around like it is a swizzle stick that is performing the orchestra in his mind of inner sanity, holding the reigns while the demons in his head are grabbing it and trying to take it from him. My father was sick and I knew it but that was the life I led and my mother went along with it. She did for the sake that she came from an abusive household with a father that molested her and her mother never said a word either. If she ever did then her father would snatch the life out of her. So this whole prison went on for years, never leaving the house, never knowing a tree until I saw one out the window when I was six years old from that very same window that is right there.” The boy pointed to the window that is past Jasmine’s head when she didn’t look. She is almost traumatized by the look of the boy when she kept her hands folded on her lap with the broomstick tilted up against the chair.

“One night when I was eight I was stuck in this metal kennel that dad welded together in his garage overnight and placed it in the same spot where you are sitting right now, my mother locked me in with a Keymaster Lock and told me not to worry and it is only for the best of me. She kept the lights on when I had nothing to read in my kennel when I don’t know how long time passed for me. I can only hear the patter of footsteps coming from the ceiling. I had to go to the bathroom in a ten gallon bucket they placed in the room with toilet paper. My mother hoped to make sure that I had done my business before I was locked in the kennel for the night. Then again my entire neighborhood didn’t know that I existed when mom kept her pregnancy a secret and my father got all of my needs from a grocery store thirty miles west from the house so no locals will identify him if seen. But this night upon the last night that I was alive my father was really loaded and he did have a mean streak about him. He came down the steps, almost falling down the steps with that same gun in his hand, reciting the whole scripture from the Bible which for me I didn’t think it is in the Bible in the first place when he spoke like it was in there.

“He hit the bottom of the steps, bounced off the wall with his back against it and continued to nurse on a bottle of Kentucky Bourbon that is almost dry. He laughed when he continued to site scripture before he stumbled forward, wanting to talk more jargon to me with a world I never understand for I never left the house. He kept the gun in his hand loose when he came nearer and nearer. The gun was loaded when he dropped it and it hit the hammer right and that was that for me. I didn’t feel the pain of it.” The boy stopped when his face came into the light, the face of the boy that looked anemic when Jasmine didn’t move. She does not believe that this is happening when she didn’t move in the seat at all. There is nothing odd about his face at all. The boy is just dead, ceased from this existence as she wanted to know something that stuck in her head.

“Why are you here haunting me?” Jasmine asked of him when the boy looked down and then looked up in her eyes.

“I see the world past these walls and I am starting to believe the truth of what my father was working in my head.” The boy looked past her, against the wall when he smiled with no life in his eyes before he looked down at the girl that is sitting in the center of the room.

“I see all the pain and suffering, all the theft and abuse in this world. My father was part of the sickness and the sickness is within these walls that I can never leave. The afterlife is a lie as well. I am stuck in the void between heaven and hell, stuck in this house and I have never done anything in my life. I learned after my death more about life when I know that this world is filled with a sickness that is all around us, even through the windows that keep us from it.”

“But there is still good within people.” Jasmine told the boy when the boy shook his head.

“There is no goodness.” He smiled while shaking his head.

“It is all a lie. This is a lie and I am stuck here for the consequences that my mother and father had done. They are not here! Why does the innocence suffer! I am stuck in this prison forever and I have seen the world outside these walls and I have grown sick with pain on what it needs to be done with it! The world needs to be corrected! That is what it needs to be done with it! The world needs to be punished and you are the vessel I need!” He started to chuckle when Jasmine jumped up from the chair when the boy flashed across the room, not moving his feet but his soul when he stood at the top of the stairs.

“You cannot leave. You’re going to be here with me!” The boy sounded crazy when Jasmine thought of something that is past the point of her mind that is pointing the fear that is in the center of her brain.

She ran up the steps with the broom no longer up at the ready when the boy told her to come. Jasmine ran through the spirit of the boy when the boy scoffed and then turned towards the door that is still open.

“No,” the boy raged.

“No!” The boy screamed when Jasmine slammed the door of the basement shut when the boy started to throw a temper tantrum behind the door of the basement.

“No, you can’t do this. I am the instrument! I am the instrument of your punishment! I will do thy bidding for your foolishness! I will do this! I will do this!” He couldn’t bang on the door of the basement for which she knew that it is the prison for the boy that is in the basement. She left that door and placed the broom back in the corner of the room as she left the raging dead child to stew in his rage. She started to smile when she walked through the hallway and up the stairs, going to her room when she stepped on something that is in the center of the room when she jumped back to look at the ring that is upon her own floor. She knelt down and collected the ring, setting down on the end table in her mother’s room when she went back into the room to go to bed, not having any dreams on this night when she never went into that basement again, almost feeling bad for the boy. She wondered for a while about people and civilization when she started to come out of her shell, meeting the first friend in school by the name of Mindy Burles as she thought about civilization for the years after when she graduated high school in high honors.

Her mother died of a heart attack in college when she left the duties of selling most of her possessions and the house where the little boy is still haunting it. She wondered as before she filed the paperwork to sell the house about calling the father and telling her story to him in belief to put the longing soul to rest. It is for the better when she dialed the number for the Church of St. John and got him on the fourth ring.


© Copyright 2019 Adam Steele. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments: