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Harris

Page 5

by Sarah J DiFalco


  She thought back to her childhood. Spirits were at her friends' houses, at school, and her babysitter's house. The town WAS old. A historic main street was lined with original brick and even some stone buildings. The original school house had been converted into a coffee shop. The park had a cemetery in it with headstones dated to the 17th century, and that wasn't the only one like it. She suddenly knew what she had to do. All these years of torment for no reason. All she had to do was leave.

  She texted Dylan.

  We gotta talk.

  They met up at their favorite sandwich shop the next town over. Dylan looked worried.

  "Is this-did I do something?" Dylan asked.

  "No. No it's not you." Harris answered.

  "Oh no. So you ARE moving out." Dylan frowned, rubbing his fingers through his hair.

  "Dylan, no. Listen. Well, yeah. I just, have to go. I have to get out of town." She mulled over her explanation for a minute. She could be honest. She could tell him that she has been tormented by spirits in this haunted town. She could ask him to come with her. "I just need a fresh start. Becca is gone. I don't know what we are, anymore. I feel lost. I'm sorry."

  Dylan looked deflated. Harris's heart hurt for him. She couldn't tell him the truth. It was just too crazy. He would be better off without her and her drama anyway.

  Harris touched his arm. "I'll let you know when I'm moving my stuff out. I'm sorry Dylan. This is just what's best for me. You understand."

  * * *

  Back at her mom's house, Harris pulled her laptop out and set it on the kitchen island. She curled her feet under herself and scanned through apartment listings. One bedroom, one bath, 400 square feet - somehow she found an apartment smaller than the one she had here in Arbory. Studio apartment, one bath, 800 square feet - that didn't sound so bad. She kept scrolling, marking that one as a favorite. She heard the front door open. Oh great, she thought, now to explain my plan to Mom. She waited for her mother to appear, but she never did.

  "Mom," Harris called out into the hallway. There was no answer. She waited, quietly, listening. Harris rose slowly, and headed toward the door. "Mom? Dad? Hello?" No one answered. Then she heard the door again, but it wasn't the front door. It was the hall closet. The door banged back and forth, as if someone was trying to open it. She slowly approached it. The door shook again.

  Harris stood in front of the door to the coat closet. She stared at the doorknob, as it jiggled and shook. The door banged over and over. Someone wanted to get out. As if beyond her control, Harris's hand grabbed the knob, turned it, and ripped the door open. Blood pooled on the floor. Harris's mother stared at her from inside the closet, with a lifeless stare. Her mouth hung open from one side, where her jaw hung loose, her cheek torn to her ear, exposing her teeth and tongue. Blood dribbled out of her mouth.

  Her body was partly sitting up, propped against the coats and boxes in the back of the closet. Her stomach was opened, with much of her insides pulled down to her lap. She still had her purse on her shoulder, as if she were heading out somewhere. Harris gasped, stumbling away from her mother's corpse.

  "Oh my God, Mom," she screamed. Her body shook as she fumbled for her cell phone. "No, no, no, no, no, please no," Harris cried as she dialed 911.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Harris cried in the police station. She had been questioned, repeatedly. Where was she? Did she see anything? Hear any noise? She could barely think. Her mind raced. She tried to reach her father, but he didn't answer his phone. This looked bad for him, and she knew it. If they couldn't find him they were going to think her father murdered her mother. She waited in an interview room while they tried to reach Mr. Haim.

  "Ms. Haim?" A young looking detective came into the room. He wasn't the same detective she had been speaking to. Maybe he went home, she thought. "I'm Detective Mendez. First, let me say I am sorry for your loss."

  Harris nodded.

  "As you know, we have been trying to reach your father, Mark Haim. One of my officers located his vehicle, after someone called in an accident. His car was recovered off of Route 209. He had veered into the woods sometime last night. Someone spotted the vehicle and called it in. I'm sorry, but he did not survive." Detective Mendez looked down at the floor.

  Harris sat motionless. This can't be real life. The room started to spin. She heard the muffled voice of Detective Mendez.

  "Is there someone we can call for you?"

  The voice drifted off as Harris lifted away from her body. Everything began to go dark as she dropped to the floor of the questioning room.

  * * *

  "Harris oh God," Dylan jumped up when he saw her eyes flick open. She smelled the hospital again. Dylan grabbed her tight. "Harris I'm so sorry."

  Her head throbbed. What happened? Was she still here because she hit her head in the bathroom? She was overcome by confusion. Where were her parents?

  Harris remembered her mother and her father, the scene in the closet, her mother's empty stare. She thought about her father, sitting alone in his car all night, cold, hurt, dying alone. She sobbed. She sobbed so intensely, her body shook, the bed shook, her whole life shook. Dylan embraced her.

  "Everyone's gone," she finally got out. "Mom, Dad, Becca. They're all gone." She cried again.

  "I'm here Harris. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Dylan spoke softly. He brushed her hair back from her face.

  "Dylan, I know this is crazy, but it's this town. It's haunted. The ghosts haunted me my whole life, here. They killed Becca. They killed my mother. They probably killed my father," Harris's eyes were wide with terror. She couldn't keep it a secret anymore.

  "Harris, Becca killed herself. Your father was in an accident, they said. Your mother was murdered by an intruder. You have been through a lot, I know. But there are no killer ghosts. I know you saw some things, but how can a ghost kill you? You don't have to be afraid. You are totally safe," Dylan tried to reassure her.

  * * *

  With nowhere else to go, Harris went back to Dylan's place. She plopped onto the couch and rubbed her face. She felt more lost than ever before.

  "I can help you with the funeral stuff, if you want," Dylan came in with a cup of tea for each of them. "I know it's stressful. You can stay here as long as you want, no strings attached."

  "Thanks, Dyl." Harris stretched out on the couch. The cushions swallowed her up and sleep overcame her.

  Harris rolled over, hours later, adjusting the blanket that Dylan had tossed over her while she slept. A cold draft chilled Harris's arms, so she tried to get them under the covers. Pulling the blanket up exposed her feet to the draft. What is this a toddler's blanket, she thought to herself. Curling up, she managed to fit all of her extremities under the blanket, and started to doze off again.

  The blanket pulled off of her body and on the floor. Her eyes popped open. She was afraid to look down. Maybe Dylan was sleeping on the floor next to her and pulled the blanket down by mistake. She squinted in the dark. Maybe he had a cat that she didn't know about. Maybe she just knocked it off.

  "Nope." A grumbling voice spoke inches from her ear.

  Harris screamed and jumped over the back of the couch, scrambling for the stairs. She had to wake Dylan. The voice laughed and followed her.

  "It wasn't me. It wasn't me. It wasn't me." the voice said in a teasing, sing-song pattern. "IF I SHOULD DIE BEFORE I WAKE A PRAY THE LORD MY SOUL TO TAKE," the voice yelled after her, chasing her up the stairs.

  Harris tripped and the hallway light flicked on.

  "Harris what the hell is going on?" It was Dylan, sleepy eyed and shaking. "I heard you screaming, what happened?"

  Harris scurried to the top step and jumped to her feet, grabbing onto Dylan's arm. She looked back down the stair and saw nothing. "Dylan, there was something chasing me. Or someone. Please believe me. Oh God, it was awful. His voice. It-" She cut out.

  Dylan looked down the stairs and back at Harris. He kissed her head, then went downstairs, searching for a possible int
ruder. Harris hurried down the stairs to follow him. She couldn't be alone here, or anywhere in this town. She couldn't live like this anymore. This was the last time, she thought. It was time to go.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "I'm coming with you," Dylan insisted.

  "No, you're not," Harris huffed, as she threw the last of her bags into her car. She had found a hotel, twenty-two hours away from this hell. It was near the beach, in a new, not haunted town, where she could be safe.

  "Harris, I'm coming. You shouldn't be alone."

  "Why? Because I'm a crazy person? Because you don't believe me? Because I'm a danger to myself? I will be fine," Harris raised her voice in frustration.

  "No, Harris." Dylan stood in front of her, grabbing her shoulders. "Because I do believe you. Because you have no one left. Because, what if this thing, whatever it is, follows you. I don't want to leave you alone."

  Harris paused for a moment. "No. It won't follow me. It is this damn town. It isn't one thing. It is dozens. Dozens of spirits and ghosts, or whatever they are, who are stuck in this awful old town, where they died." Harris opened her car door.

  "Please. Please let me come. I'll have my buddy Alex watch the house. I have time off. Let me get you settled at least." Dylan looked at her with pleading eyes.

  She sighed. It would be nice to have some company in the new, strange town. Part of her also wanted to start fresh with no ties to Arbory. She sat in her car, mulling it over. "Fine. Get your stuff together. I'll pick you up in two hours." Harris closed her door and drove off.

  * * *

  Harris pulled up to Dylan's house right on time. He waited outside with a duffel bag and a backpack. The car was packed tight with whatever belongings Harris thought she would need. She cleared off the front seat for Dylan.

  "You sure you want to do this? How will you get home? You going to fly? Then you have to buy a plane ticket. You are already using up days from work." Harris frowned, feeling guilty for dragging Dylan along for this.

  "Harris, I offered. I want to help you. Even if we can't work it out, I still love you. I really would do anything for you." He stared into her eyes, sincerely. "Just let me make sure you're safe out there. You need a support system. I am that system."

  Harris felt better, smiling at Dylan. He really, genuinely wanted to help. "Okay, then. Get ready for the 22 hour ride of your life," Harris joked, smirking and turning up a song that Dylan probably hadn't heard since high school.

  Arbory wasn't exactly a sleepy little suburb, it had a bustling nightlife, but when they arrived in Cargal City, both Dylan and Harris felt like tourists. Block after block of buildings blocked any view of other streets. As they got closer to the beach, the buildings got taller. Harris leaned in to the window and looked up, trying to count how many stories up they went. The occasional empty lot was fenced in and marked with a 'coming soon' sign that showed the future development that would be going in.

  Dylan gestured toward a sign that said 'Jefferson Beach' with an arrow pointing toward the coast. "You want to do a drive by?"

  "A drive by? I want to put my feet in that sand. Let's go," Harris said, even though she was tired. She and Dylan had alternated driving duties, so they wouldn't have to stop and wouldn't be worn out, but she was still spent. The thought of driving all this way and not seeing the shoreline overwhelmed any feelings of exhaustion, though.

  The beach was busy, but not overcrowded. It was late morning on a weekday, so Harris figured people were at work. She sat on the sand, staring out at the breaking waves.

  "This is beautiful, but are you sure this is the right town for you? It is so, I don't know, it's crowded, noisy, so not Arbory," Dylan asked.

  "Yep. Exactly the fresh start I need. I need something new. Something different," she replied. It was definitely different. Harris could feel the commotion and she loved it. She was away from the quiet town where she lost so much. This was what she needed. She looked at Dylan and an odd thought crossed her mind. What if he decided to stay? What if he moved out here with her? She shook the thought from her mind. That can't be what she wants. He needs to go home so she can forget about everything that happened in that damn haunted, hell-hole town.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Weeks had gone by. Dylan returned home, like he said he would. Harris had found an apartment she could afford in Cargal City, miraculously. And bonus, it was not haunted in the slightest bit. She slept peacefully, and undisturbed. She was able to walk around her apartment at night without encountering any nasties. Harris knew she made the right move.

  Harris had paid the bills back home doing freelance graphic design. She was able to stay afloat here in Cargal doing the same, but she really would have liked more spending money. Plus she needed to make some friends, so she got a job in a chain coffee store a couple blocks away. Saunders Coffee was known for its expensive coffee and overpriced colorful tea drinks. People loved it. What Harris was most excited about, were the famous chocolate croissants they made. There was even a little croissant on their logo. They were absolute heaven.

  On Harris's first shift, she tied on her little blue apron and walked the couple blocks to work. At Saunders, she was greeted by the training manager within seconds of walking in the door.

  "Harris? I'm Gretchen. I'll train you today. First, we don't wear our aprons outside of the cafe. Second, I am only training manager during training weeks, otherwise I'm the staffing coordinator. If you have a question or request about your schedule after this week, come to me. If you ever have a question about your job after this week, ask someone else." Gretchen said. She was a little older than Harris. Maybe in her late 30's. She had wild curly red hair with chunky blonde highlights that came to her chin. Her neon green hoop earrings dangled out from under her hair and her long colorful nails clicked as she waved her hands expressively.

  "Oh, okay. Uhh, sorry," Harris was caught off guard by Gretchen's directness and mild hostility. It showed on her face a little.

  "Oh don't worry. Everything is all good here. You will get along with everyone. We are all friends here," Gretchen reassured her, patting Harris's arm. Perfume wafted off of her every time she patted. They walked over to the counter. "This is Marco. Marco say hi. June. Gracie. Where is Liam?" Gretchen pointed to identify Harris's new coworkers.

  "Liam is taking a shit," Marco replied, smirking wide, one eyebrow raised.

  Gretchen rolled her eyes and gave Marco a look. She wagged her finger at him to quietly scold him, scowling. She turned to Harris. "Let's go, we can start with the coffee," she said, leading Harris behind the far end of the counter toward one of the many stainless steel appliances lining the entire wall of the store.

  After training was over for the day, Harris was instructed to shadow some other employees. Liam eventually returned and Harris was able to meet him as well.

  "So, if they ask for whip cream, and the drink doesn't come with it, remember it's an up-charge. You'll see when you do register," Liam whispered as he sprayed whipped cream on a purple tea drink."

  Harris nodded.

  "Oh no, where's your notebook? You have to write notes, dude." Marco's voice came up behind her.

  "What? I-uh-nobody said-" Harris was cut off.

  "Nah I'm fucking with you," Marco said, laughing. He patted her on the back and hustled down to the end of the counter with an empty cinnamon shaker.

  Gracie signaled to Harris to follow her. She looked around and figured that nobody would miss her, so she followed. Out the back door, the smell from the dumpster was almost as good as the smell inside. Old coffee grounds and yesterday's croissants wafted day old deliciousness around the back lot. Gracie lit up a cigarette.

  "You just moved here Gretchen said?" Gracie asked.

  "Yeah. I needed a fresh start." Harris said.

  "Oh. Bad break-up? Lose your job?" Gracie was nosy and blunt. She sucked on her cigarette, waiting for Harris to answer.

  "Um, sort of. Break up, then my best friend died, then both my parents
, too. So yeah. I lost everyone I love and now I am here," Harris answered. It felt good to be so open and honest.

  "Shit. Sorry, man. We are hitting Boxer Bar later, you wanna join?"

  Harris couldn't help but smile. She just dumped her baggage on Gracie and she wasn't fazed in the slightest. "Yeah, okay. What time?"

  Chapter Sixteen

  Music blared from Boxer Bar. It was only a block from the beach, so the air smelled salty and clean, until you approached the door. A cloud of cigarette smoke and scented vapor suffocated Harris as she got near. Coughing, she flashed her I.D. at the bouncer, and ran inside, escaping the fumes.

  She texted Gracie.

  Here. Where are you?

  Gracie

  I'll come get you. Stay by the door.

  Harris waited for a couple minutes, then Gracie appeared, pushing through the crowd. She immediately smiled and hugged Harris, who was a little caught off guard.

  "We have a table in the back, it isn't as loud," Gracie shouted.

  Music blared as they passed the main bar and a dance floor that was crowded with people dancing, grinding, and spilling drinks. After the bar was a stairwell leading upstairs. They passed the stairs and after a short hallway, emerged into a smaller, quieter bar room. There were several round tables, circled by stools. The bar was lined with stools, most of them filled. Harris spotted Marco.

  "We can go dance later, if you want. It is just easier to talk and grab a drink back here. Plus the cheese fries are amazing," Gracie said, leading Harris to the table, filled with Saunders employees.

  "Harry! So nice to see you!" Marco shouted. "First beer is on me." He stood and headed for the bar.

  "Harris you met June and Liam. Guys, Harris is new to town. Her family is all dead. We are her family now," Gracie said, plainly.

 

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