Anabelle
A short story for Writing Prompt #001 There's a teenage boy covered in blood, living in my closet. He’s kinda shy, but he’s okay, for a ghost.
I sighed as my backpack slipped off my shoulders and landed on the floor with a soft bump. The pain of 4 textbooks reminded me that I had homework tonight, and it was all due as soon as I walk into class tomorrow morning. I stared down at the bag and shrugged, convincing myself I would do it later, which probably meant eleven o'clock tonight. I looked up at my walls and sighed. I never understood the color blue and I hated it, but I never had the time to repaint.
I checked my phone before putting it on charge and walking into the kitchen to grab a glass of juice from the fridge. I frowned when I noticed that all of the fridge's contents were alcohol-related, so I closed the fridge and just decided to grab a glass of water from the sink. I'll definitely have to gather up some money to go grocery shopping later in the week. I brushed my blonde hair out of my eyes and blew a breath of air out as I read the note on the fridge.
Gone shopping. Be back later. Have supper ready by 6. Love you. -Dad
I smiled at the last part and pulled the note off the fridge. He hasn't said that in a while...maybe he's going grocery shopping? I tried over and over again to try and convince myself that that was what he was doing, but there was always a part of me that knew EXACTLY what he was doing, and he wasn't shopping for food. That little bit of happiness extinguished in my heart as I packed the note with me to my room, along with the glass of water. I sipped carefully from the glass as my feet padded against the wooden floors. As I neared the end of the hallway, I stared at the red splotches beside my door and noticed how they stained the wood. I had asked my dad about the mysterious red splotch once before and he shrugged it off and told me I had spilled kool-aid once and didn't tell him so it stained. Even at a younger age, I had not believed him one hundred percent. The stain was even now too dark to be a kool-aid stain and I always wonder what it might've been every time I go into my room.
Sighing, I stepped silently into my blue room but nearly dropped my glass as I noticed the boy sitting on my bed with my textbooks in hand. I watched in curiosity as he turned each page and ran his pale fingers across the words. His mouth opened and closed as he silently read the words and I smiled. I'm glad someone could find interest in that garbage. While in this daze of watching the boy, I forgot that I was holding my glass and I froze as it slipped from my fingers and shattered against the floor. The boy shot up quickly and spun around to face me, his hair covering most of his face. His clothes were once a nice blue sweater and black skinny jeans, but they were now stained crimson, along with his face. But his face was a different, burning crimson as he stared at me in shock, and then vanished. My books lie open on my bed and the glass still lay broken on the floor as I groan and hit my forehead. This is the closest I've ever gotten to the boy. I quickly bent over and picked up the shards of glass, but I apparently didn't pick up the glass carefully enough. I hissed and dropped the shard as the freshly made wound flooded with red. As I stood up to grab a band-aid, I saw my closet door slide open and the boy peeked through cautiously. He stared at the cut on my finger with wide eyes and opened his mouth, but he couldn't force the words out of his throat. His eyes glazed over and he looked down at the floor and gulped.
"Hey...it's not your fault, okay? I'm easily scared, and it's just a scratch. See?" I held up the cut for him to see but he wouldn't meet my eyes. He stared at the cut with the saddest expression before slipping back into the closet. I quickly ran to the bathroom and treated the wound before cleaning the rest of the glass cautiously. After I had dumped the glass in the trashcan, I returned to my room and noticed a slip of paper on my floor in front of my closet that had not been there earlier. Out of curiosity, I picked up the little slip of paper and turned it over.
'I'm sorry I scared you. ' was neatly written in red and I grimaced when I realized that it was written in blood. I wrinkled the paper up and smiled at the door. Although it was written in blood- I'm not sure what or whose- it was the thought that counted.
"It's okay. Do you want to come out? I won't bite..." I trailed and waited for a response. Silence. Finally, a lightbulb lit up in my head. I ran over to my already open backpack and sifted through its contents. I sat on the floor in front of my closet and slid the notebook and pen under the closet. I heard a scribbling noise come from the other side and I grinned as the notebook was pushed back to my side. As he wrote his reply, I jumped up and snatched my phone from the dresser so I could keep track of the time. Dad would be home soon, and I needed to be prepared when that happens. Who knows what condition he'll come home in. The sound of the notebook sliding back to my side of the door awoke me from my daze and I sighed a little and read his response.
'Are you scared of me?'
"No, not at all," I answered, but I think we both knew that was a lie. There was a couple times where I'd pull open my closet doors in the morning and yelp because of the dead body living in the corner of my closet. I first noticed him about 4 years ago, and he was really shy and disappeared when I saw him. There was this one time where he stayed and watched me as I did my homework, but when I looked up from my paper I screamed out of surprise and he frowned before vanishing into thin air. "I want to talk to you. I want to know why you're here. Maybe I can help. Can you please come out?"
'I'd rather not. '
"Why not?" I slid the notebook back under the door.
Scribble scribble.
'Because I need to stay in here...' A certain curiosity crossed over me and I frowned.
"Why?"
'Because...I-'
Before I could read the rest, a loud bang sounded through the house and a shout echoed through the halls.
"AMBER WHERE ARE YOUU?" He slurred and I gulped. Quickly jumping up, I panicked frantically and spun around to look for a place to hide. I shut my bedroom door while he searched the living room to buy me some time. I quickly spun around, slid silently inside the closet, and crouched down beside the teenage boy who seemed just as frightened as I did. We both shook out of fear and I put my hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming. I hated it when he came home like this, but ever since Mom left, this is the only way he knows how to deal with her death. "AMBERRR" He drawed out my name and it made shivers run down my spine. I bit my lip harshly as I felt the vibrations of his boots hitting the floor as he stumbled closer and closer to us. I quickly glanced over and noticed that the boy was suddenly gone, and I felt a sudden feeling of betrayal overwhelm me. Stuttering, Dad pushed my door open and sauntered in. I could smell the intoxication from here. His yellow-toothed grin haunted me as I stared at him in horror. His eyes searched my room for any sign of me, and it stopped on all my textbooks on my bed. "Oh, Amber, I know you're in here, Sweetie. Come out, come out where ever you are!" He sang and I grimaced. This sweet little sober act had been used on me one too many times. I stayed put and watched him sit there for a few more seconds, swaying back and forth every few seconds. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity, he turned around and stumbled out of my room, probably going to get another beer and pass out while watching football. A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I stepped out of my closet and shut the door quietly. Just as I did so, I felt my phone start vibrating and my heart stopped.
My ringtone sounded through my room as I tried to pick my phone out and reject the call. The noise frightened me but the fear of getting caught by Dad scared me even more as I rejected the call and everything grew silent. No tv, no air conditioning, nothing. Not a sound. I held my breath and clutched my phone as I strained my ears to try and hear him opening the fridge, or maybe turning on the tv, but all I could hear was the turning of the doorknob and my Dad's disturbingly drunk voice singing,
"I found you." He had his phone in hand and smirked as my number was being dialed on the screen...
It was too late to hide, too blocked to run. The only exit to my room is a window and a door, and my father is currently blocking one of those exits. I gulped as he stared at me with an evil smirk and let himself into my bedroom, closing the door behind him. He held a bottle in one hand and a cigarette in his mouth, and I'm not sure how he was able to get both in the 10 seconds that he wasn't in my room, but Dad isn't Dad unless he's holding one of the two.
"Why isn't dinner ready? I asked for it to be ready by the time I got home." He growled and I backed up slowly against the wall. Stupid idea, I know, but I wasn't thinking that way at the moment. I wanted to get as far away from him as I could. He stayed where he was and I started to speak.
"I'm sorry Dad, I didn't know you were going to be home this early I-" He cut me off with a growl and I shut my trap faster than the Lions did when Daniel was thrown in the lion's den.
"Sorry! Oh, I'm SORRY.' Sorry doesn't cut it, AMBER! I give you all this and you want to take it for granted. All I ask of you is to make food, is it really that hard?! YOU'RE SUCH A DISAPPOINTMENT."
No matter how drunk his words were, there was always a sober truth lying within them. The words stung as they flooded from his mouth, but what really hurt me was the way he looked at me with such hatred and filth in his eyes, like I wasn't his own blood. Like I was some homeless girl he picked up off the street and hated. But he was supposed to love me. He did love me...right? A voice in the back of my head laughed harshly at the thought. It was obvious. He only loved me when I gave him part of my paycheck so he can go "shopping". The voice yelled in my head, urging me to fight back. Urging me to do something about this. I did all I could to please him. Instead of studying or hanging out with my friends, I took on a part-time job while he sat on his bum at home building up his beer gut. I deserved better than this, that much I knew. Mom, I hope you're seeing me now. You always told me to fight back and do what's right, so here I am, fighting for my freedom.
"No, Dad. I do everything I can for you and it's still not enough. I come home from school, wash the dishes, vacuum the living room, take out the trash, and clean up your vomit in the bathroom every day. I took on a part-time job halfway across town and you won't drive me there- you're never in the condition to anyways but still- AND I DON'T EVEN GET HALF THE CHECK. IT ALL GOES TO THAT STUPID LIQUOR STORE DOWNTOWN. And then, after I clean and work for you, I tend to MY needs. I study for school, I do my homework and projects. And then I go and buy ACTUAL food to eat so WE don't starve because I'm sorry to burst your bubble but WE CAN'T LIVE ON CAMEL'S AND BUDLIGHT, FATHER!" I took in a breath of air and noted how red his face had gotten. Steam poured from his ears as he lifted his arm above his head and slung the half-empty bottle at my face. I ducked just in time for it to miss me by an inch and shatter against the wall behind me. I screamed loudly as he pounced towards me and shoved me up against the wall.
"Why you little," He spat in my face. His breath reeked of alcohol, more than usual, "I GAVE BIRTH TO YOU! I RAISED YOU WHEN YOUR MOM WOULDN'T. THAT LITTLE- I SHOULD'VE NEVER EVEN MET YOUR MOTHER!" Tears welled up in my eyes for the first time tonight and I screamed back at him. His cigarette shook in his mouth and the ash fell and hit the floor as I screamed.
"YOU WILL NOT BRING MY MOTHER INTO THIS! SHE COULDN'T RAISE US BECAUSE YOU DECIDED SHE WASN'T ENOUGH FOR YOU, YOU IGNORANT MORON!" He glared at me and suddenly, his hands were around my neck, preventing me from swallowing the one thing I needed. I choked and gasped as my arms flailed around and tried to poke him in the face. I was trying to remember the video we watched at school about this. Since we live in a large city and multiple kids walked from school to their house, the school showed us a new video every month on what to do if someone ever attacked us. I kicked him over and over again in the shins, but he was far too strong to be defeated, so I did the next best thing and poked him in the eyes. He let out a yelp and removed his hands from my throat as my vision started returning and the dots faded. I watched as he, with both hands covering his eyes, stumbled backward and tripped over something and started to fall quickly. He hit the back of his head on the desk and fell to the floor with a loud thump. I winced and coughed as he hit the floor, staring wildly at the thing he tripped over.
I specifically remember that bag being on my bed, not in the middle of my room. I looked up from the bag and met the gaze of a dead man.
"Did you...move this?" I asked and he stared at Dad warily. He did not hear me. I walked in front of him and he looked down.
"...I had to..." His croaky voice surprised me as I stared at him with my eyes wide open. "I'm sorry..." So he can speak. His words might've meant something, but his eyes told a different, more emotional story. His eyes spoke a million apologies, all of them unexplained to me. Why is he so sorry?
"No, no....it's okay. You saved my life! Hey..."' I looked up and stared at him and for once, he was looking at me first.
"I did?" He sounded so unsure like he wasn't the one who put the backpack there. He was the only one who could though, and he said he did.
"Yes, you saved my life. I wouldn't have made it out of here in time to escape if the backpack wouldn't have been there. But I seriously do need to go call the ambulance. Wait here, okay?" He nodded slowly and I pulled out my phone and dialed 911. I calmly told the operator exactly what had happened- except for the whole ghost part. She told me to go to another room and wait until the ambulance arrived, but I didn't want to leave the boy so I stayed in my room. When I did walk back to my room, the boy was on my bed and reading my textbook again. I cleared my throat and he looked up shyly at me. He went to go for the notebook but I snatched it away and hid it behind my back. "Nope! You can speak, so speak. What's your name?"
He pouted for a while but looked down to the floor after meeting my eyes, his face reddening. "Isaac...my name is Isaac." His hair covered his eyes but he pushed it behind his ear. He had one of those boy emo haircuts and I bet it would look really good if it weren't matted to his forehead with blood.
"Well, Isaac, you just saved my life. And I thank you for that. Now...this is a really personal question, and you don't have to answer it if you don't want to, but... how did you die?" I asked slowly and he flinched a little. I instantly felt guilty for asking such question, but I had a really good feeling that the kool-aid stain by the door was part of it. He looked at me- but not really at me. It felt like he was looking straight through me. Like he was looking at something behind me.
"The notebook...the last thing I wrote...read it." He spoke in a low voice and I carefully pulled the notebook out from behind me. I flipped to the page where he had written and read the whole thing from top to bottom. I read the very last entry out loud and gasped as I did so.
"Becuase...your father is not who he says he is..." I frowned in confusion as I reread it, making sure I was not leaving anything out, "What's that supposed to mean?"
He chuckled and rolled his eyes, the first normal teenage thing I've seen him do in the 4 years I've seen him.
"You're no Sherlock, that's for sure...Your father, ah, how do I say this? You need to sit down for this." I was full of fear and anticipation as I sat on my bedside and watched him as he closed his eyes solemnly.
"If you don't want to tell me, then you don't have to." I quickly spoke and watched him as he rubbed his temples.
"No no no... you need t-" He couldn't finish his sentence because we heard someone banging on the front door.
"It's the Police! Open up!" I looked at where Isaac was- or had been. He had vanished. Sighing, I ran to the door and unlocked it for the man. He held his gun up and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes.
"He's unconscious you don't have to-" A woman stopped me from re-entering the room. She turned me around and looked me up and down for any injuries.
"Ma'am, you need to leave the premises. Now." She tried to quickly usher me out of the house and I frowned.
"Why? He's unconscious and I'm perfectly fine. I'm unharmed, see? " I held my arms up but to no avail. She pushed me towards the door again, a little more eager this time.
"Ma'am you do not understand. This man is very dangerous and should be in prison. You need to leave before he wakes up, NOW!" She yelled and I flinched but saw no regret in her eyes. Defeated, I retreated my own home and relocated to the parking lot where I waited to be questioned by many people. As I walked out, two or three reporters shoved microphones and cameras in front of my face, shooting questions at me faster than bullets.
"How do you feel as of now?"
"What was it like living with the notorious Fred Johnson?"
"Why did you finally snap?"
"How did it feel to be living with a phycho?"
Wait....what? I froze in my spot and stared at the reporter who asked the last question. An expression of achievement and determination crossed her face as she stared at me with a notebook in hand.
"How did it feel living with the killer that the police have been hunting down for years ?" She restated her question and my jaw dropped to the floor. They must've mistaken me for someone else.
"No, you must be misunderstanding something. My father was an alcoholic, he never killed anyone. "
"Ms. Johnson, may I speak to you?" An officer pulled me to the side before I could answer and quickly shoved me into his car. He slid over the hood like some people do in movies- which was actually pretty cool might I add- and jumped in the driver's seat and took off. "Look here, I'm being completely serious about everything I'm about to say, okay? I was ordered to inform you what happened because apparently, it's the only thing I can do at the moment. I started driving so the people would leave you alone. I wanted to tell you the story without any interjections or questions from people who have only heard rumors, okay?"
"Okay..." I buckled up because I had a feeling we were going to be driving for a while. In the little moment of silence we had, I took the time to look at the officer. He was probably about in his twenties, maybe even younger. He was very good looking if I say so myself, but I had to distract myself from him so I stared at the road, "I'm ready."
"Okay, so...basically, your whole life has been a lie." He licked his lips, "You don't even know yourself." He spoke and it jumbled around in my head. I couldn't really process this. I needed details. When I didn't say anything, he nodded and started spilling the beans. "On December 3rd, 2001, you were born to a family and lived in that house you were just in. Everything was fine and dandy until September 21st of 2002. A couple in Madrid hospital was expecting a baby, and the woman was in labor. The couple was hoping for a baby girl, but they were given a blue blanket and a baby boy. Little had the hospital known, Fred Johnson- the father- was an escapee of the psychiatric ward in Maryland. They took home the boy, a little disappointed. Later on that night, screams could be heard from the Johnson house. Fred had smothered the newborn to death and brutally murdered his wife, Harriet Johnson. Then he snapped. He went from house to house up and down streets, killing off every single family with all male children. We aren't sure how he managed to kill 7 families before he got to yours. He broke in through the window and snooped around the house. You know how your bedroom walls are blue?"
I nodded quickly. I hated thinking of that color even now.
He cleared his throat, "That was your nursery. Your mom was in love with the color blue, and she couldn't afford any girl clothes for you because she was still in school, so she just dressed you in hand me downs, from what we know from relatives. And when Fred showed up at your house, he peeked in your room first. As a result of seeing the blue, he thought you were a boy. As he raised the knife, your mother tackled him to the floor and punched him in the face. She fought with him for a while until he flung her off of him and stabbed her in the chest three times, killing her instantly. Your father was a deep sleeper, but the sound of the screams woke him up and he rushed to the nursery where Fred was covered in his wife's blood. He tackled Fred to the ground and beat him up really bad, but he still didn't stand a chance. Fred killed your father as well. Shoved him in the closet with your mother. We don't know where the bodies are today, but we do know that Fred is now captured. You just lead us to this town's biggest murder spree in history. Good job. "
I stared at him shock as tears welled up in my eyes once again. I've been living a lie this whole time...Suddenly, the car braked and I looked around. We were at a shooting range. It was vacant, all except for a couple squirrels here and there. "C'mon..." He whispered, "I'll let you shoot my guns." We climbed out of his car and I shut my car door. I watched silently as he pulled out a rifle and a pistol from the trunk. He handed the pistol to me and I let my arms dangle loosely at my side. We made our way in front of one of the targets and he tossed a pair of earmuffs at me. "Trust me...you'll need these." I've never shot a gun before, but there's always a first for everything. I turned off the safety and aimed with my shoulders squared, and pulled the trigger. I jumped back a little bit as a numbing pain split through my arms. I didn't mind the pain as of now. It reminded me that unlike my entire 16 years of living, this was real. I could feel the vibrations in my chest. This right here, right now, is real; there is no way it can be faked. I shot over and over again, but the pain never went away. And I don't mean the pain in my arms. I mean the pain in my heart. The pain of knowing that I never had an actual family. Every time I wanted to meet my relatives, "Dad" would always tell me that they lived far away and were too busy for me. The pain of knowing that I can't remember my parents at all. I'll never know them... The officer held his hand up a bit and I lowered my gun.
"Feel any better?" I shook my head and he sighed. He grabbed the pistol from me and gave me the rifle instead. "But before you shoot anymore, try and hit the target this time." I looked over and realized out of the multiple times I shot the pistol, I only hit the target once. Sighing, I turned off the safety and unloaded a round into the dummy. Bullet after bullet, I felt a piece of the old me- the me that never was- remind me that I have been living a life that isn't mine. I was supposed to grow up in a family. I was SUPPOSED TO be loved. Instead, Frank...wait... I jerked my earmuffs off and stared at the officer. He jumped back and took his earmuffs off.
"What?" He said. I glared at him and he frowned.
"How did you know all that stuff about my real family and what happened?!" I blurted out and he sighed. I clutched the gun in my hand. I knew I could never ACTUALLY shoot it, but he doesn't know that...
"I was sorta hoping you'd ask that..." He started smiling so I started backing up a little, "It's good to see you, little sis. I missed you." He said, smiling down at me.
My jaw dropped wide open and he smiled a little at me. Now that he's said something, it makes sense....or does it?
"Wait, WHAT?! HOW?" I yelled at him with tears running down my face. There was so much I didn't know about my own life...
"You was not the only child our parent's had. Well, I was four....I watched him murder our parents....I watched him pick you up and claim you as his own. He was a maniac, and I couldn't stop him so I ran. I climbed out my bedroom window with my blanket and ran until someone found me and took me to the police station. I didn't know my own last name and I wouldn't tell them what happened. I had just moved into this city so we didn't know anyone and we didn't have any relatives around here. The closest relative we have is probably across the country. " He started to tear up and I did as well. He could be lying about all this, but it does make sense. He could be my brother. A tear slid down my face as he continued.
"They put me all over the news and asked around. No one knew. They all assumed I was an orphan of some homeless people or something along the lines of that. Anyways, someone adopted me and I became a Kevin Lawley. It must've been exciting for my mother to pick out a name for me at the age of 4. But anyways, I never told anyone what happened. I saw that they were looking for that Fred dude and never found him. Since our parents were new to the city, absolutely no one knew them. Fred paid all of the bills and everything but lay low for years up until now. We are lucky he didn't go on another rampage. But I grew up and worked specifically on this case because I wanted to find my sister, which I now have...I'm so sorry. I should've never left you with that man. I should've told someone. I'm so sorry..."
Tears slid down his cheeks and I sobbed uncontrollably. Now that he mentioned it, the resemblance is uncanny. Same blonde hair, blue eyes. Same nose. I believed him, as much as I didn't really want to. I ran into him and tackled him for a hug. We cried into each other's shoulders for a few minutes and I leaned back.
"Thank you..." I whispered.
"For what? I left you alone in that house with that maniac. I should've told someone." He was angry at himself, I could see that now, but he really shouldn't be.
"No...there was nothing you could've done at 4 years old. " I stated reasonably. He nodded, but I don't think he really agreed with me. I froze right there on the spot and stared at him with wide eyes.
"We need to go. NOW!" I started running towards the car with the rifle in hand. I know it wasn't smart to run with a gun, but we REALLY needed to go.
"What? What for?!?!?!" He yelled back and started to dig his keys out of his pocket as he ran.
"Our parents...how old were they?" He frowned at the question but answered it nonetheless
"Well, they had us while they were still in school. So, about our age. Why?" He frowned at me and I choked out a sob. No, you can't be serious...
"And...what was Dad wearing the night of the ... ya know."
"Uhm, I don't really remember, I was 4..." He trailed off as he started the car and backed out of the shooting range. "Why are you asking so many questions?!"
"Last question...what was Dad's name?" I asked and crossed my fingers. Please...
"James." My heart shattered and I stared at Kevin.
"...-AAre y-o-you sure?" The tears rolled down my face and I could barely make out what I was saying.
"Yes, his name was James. Why? What's wrong?!" His eyes were wide as they searched me over and over again.
"Nevermind...don't worry about it. Take me back to my house, please. I need to grab something."
"Are you sur-"
"JUST DO IT, OKAY?!!?!" I screamed and sobbed as he nodded and sped off to the house. Thoughts reeled around in my head as we neared closer and closer. It has to be him, it just has to be. Before I knew it, I was at the old house. Police officers were everywhere and a live news station stood outside of the home. I hopped out of the car before Kevin could even stop it and ran past the yellow tape.
"Miss, you can't go in there it'-"
"I LIVE HERE!" I shouted at him and he looked at me. I started towards my room but he grabbed me by the shoulder.
"Miss, what is your name?" I froze and let out a painful laugh. I don't know my own name.
"Man, I don't even know, okay?! Just let me go!" I jerked my arm out of his grasp and ran to my room. Luckily, no one was in there. I quickly shut and lock the door just before the guy could stop me. He banged on my door and screamed at me.
"Miss, that is a crime scene! You cannot be in there! MISS!" He continued beating on the door but I muted the yelling and the sirens. All I could hear- all I wanted to hear- is that closet door open. I pressed my hand against the doorknob and twisted slowly. Light filled the small storage area as I opened the door wider and wider. My eyes searched every inch of the closet.
Nothing. Not a trace of him to be found. I searched, over and over again, hoping and praying he would show. Please....nothing.
Finally, with a cry of defeat, I shut the closet door and turned around to leave.
There, in front of my black converse shoes, lie a notebook that was not there before.I bent down slowly and looked down and studied the writing of my father. The writing of a dead man.
So, I guess you're a Sherlock after all, eh? So you finally figured it out. I've been watching over you for 15 years, love. 15 years on this Godforsaken ticking time bomb called earth. You mom was pregnant with both you and your brother in high school and I dropped out so we could afford it. We were madly in love, but we never got to see the day where she became a Payne legally. Anyways, we love you nonetheless. I just wanted you to know that that man was not your father, I was. I watched over you this whole time to make up for the time I would not be here now. Now I see you, you're all grown up. Did you know you have my eyes? Daddy's little girl. We will meet again someday, my darling. Your mother and I will be waiting for you on the other side. Until then, I bid farewell.
Goodbye, my child.
- James Isaac Payne
P.S. I'm sure you wish to know your actual name. Your brother's as well if you've met him yet. Your name is Anabelle Faith Payne and your brother is Mason Ross Payne. Please, find your brother. Forgive him. Love him.
P.P.S I left you something. Take it and keep it. But share with your brother or I'll come down from Heaven and haunt you. I mean it! Love Ya.
Before I could do anything, the door busted open and walked in Ke-Mason. My brother, Mason. I shoved the box into my pocket and held the notebook close to my chest. He didn't ask about it as he pulled me out of the house. We quickly snuck into his car and I pulled out everything. I handed him the letter first.
"Anabelle..." He stared at me, "What a beautiful name." I smiled at him with tears in my eyes and he smiled right back at me.
"Mason..." I wiped my tears away, "What a beautiful name." He laughed and folded up the letter.
"So...Dad was Casper?"
"Yeah. I'll explain later. He left us something else..." I pulled the velvet box out of my pocket and opened it carefully. A ring lay there in the padding with a diamond in the center. I gently pulled it out and spun it around. On the bottom, it had a sentence engraved on it.
'Till Death Do Us Part'
I smiled down at the ring as I spoke, " Dad was going to marry mom with this ring, I can feel it. He wanted us to have it to fulfill his dying wish- er, his dead wish technically." I muttered the last part, hoping Mason wouldn't get offended. Instead, he just laughed and stared at the ring.
"No...I think he wanted you to have it. You deserve it. You went through twice the stuff I did." He grinned at me and slid it on my finger. "See? Perfect fit. It looks beautiful, Ana. " I stared down at the ring in awe as it glinted against the sun. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I twirled it on my finger and looked up at Mason.
"So what now?" I asked him. After all this. After all the murders, all the tears, what do we do now?
"I say we gather up your stuff and you can come live with me for a while. I know it'll take some time to get the DNA test taken, but we will get there. You might have to go live with relatives in California..." He trailed off sadly. I looked down and almost started crying again but he punched me in the shoulder, "But for now, let's go for a drive. I could use some food right about now, how about you?" My stomach growled and he chucked and started the car. As we drove further and further away from the house, I could feel a piece of me being set free and put at peace. We may not be together as a family, but they're still in our hearts and they're waiting for us on the other side for when our time runs out. And when that day comes, whenever and wherever, I'll truly be happy because we will be a family once again. I looked over at Mason and smiled.
Although a lot has happened in the last 24 hours, we both felt at peace with all this. I found comfort in the way my father watched over me, and my only regret is that I didn't figure this all out sooner. But now I'm not alone. I have Mason by my side and I know that Mom and Dad are watching from above. I have all I could ever want.
Grinning, I turned up the radio and looked out the window at the trees. For once, I was happy. Truly happy.
THE END
This is my first short story! I hope you like it. I spent a healthy amount of time going through and correcting any mistakes but if you happen to catch any, let me know. Thank you all for reading and have a good day :D
