I wake suddenly and violently when my body is engulfed with agonizing pain. I gasp for air and my head suddenly feels like it’s trying to explode as pain wraps mercilessly around it. I manage to sit up, bracing myself for what – or who – I’m about to see. It’s amazing how fast my brain recalls the unpleasant memory of the dark, cold man that seems to cause me such torment.
I allow my eyes to scan the room for him and Liam has seemed to have fallen asleep as well, but my sudden jerky movements and gasping awake him. He studies my posture and tries pulling my hand away from my face as I now grip my head.
“Breckin! What the hell is wrong with you?”
I can’t manage to get any words out because my chest hurts too badly to take in any air. The same choking sound wheezes from my throat as I continue to look around my room. When his dark, hazy figure catches my eye, I notice that he’s standing outside my window rather than next to me. I look to Liam and his face is now pained, too. He has the same expression he’d had when I first saw the man at school standing so close to him. At least he doesn’t seem to be suffering from any kind of physical angst like I am.
“You’re sad,” I gasp.
“What? No…yes… What the hell are you talking about? Breckin! You’re hurt, tell me what to do!” He’s panicking. I have to calm him down.
I shake my head. “It’ll go away when he does.” I try to soothe. Instead, I sound as if I’m gagging and rasping on my own air.
“HE? HE, WHO?!”
“It’s him,” I breathe. “The man… that almost made me… drown… last night. He’s… here… standing there,” I rasp while pointing toward my window.
I manage another look at the man and he doesn’t appear to be looking at me this time. He is instead, staring at Liam. I notice, too, that his stare isn’t one of anger or rage; rather one of sorrow. Deep sorrow. He’s close enough for me to see subtleties I’ve never noticed before. I’d been too overtaken with pain before to pay any attention to the details of what he looked like other than the cold emptiness of his stare. I study him fast as my vision begins to cloud over.
His forehead is darkly bruised and he has what appears to be dried blood coming from one of his nostrils. His clothes are wet, as water still freely flows from the crown of his head. He’s holding his chest much like I am, as if he’s hurting and gasping for air as well. He’s older and clearly overcome with pain, but his grief seems to greatly overshadow his pain.
It all clicks then.
The pain I feel is the same pain this ghastly stranger seems to be suffering from. His injuries match precisely where my pain is now. But I can’t figure out why he’s looking at Liam. It’s me who he continues appearing to. It’s me he causes such agony to. And it’s me that clearly echoes the feelings of how he had died. With abrupt and violent realization, I know that is what I’m experiencing. And this is how he’s appearing to me as well; in the state of his death.
Liam is staring out my window but there is nothing there for him to see.
“Breckin,” he begins uncertainly. His expression makes it look as if he is being tortured. Whether it’s for me or from what emotion he seems to be feeling with this man being near, I don’t know.
“I’ll get through it…. It’ll go away,” I pant again. “Don't worry.”
Then as if having this man torture me with his pain wasn’t enough, Evie appears next. Only she’s in my room again. I glance over to Liam once more while his face remains pained, and I can see through my hazy sight a single tear falling from his right eye. She’s standing so close to us that it makes my stomach convulse and curl. If she were alive, I would be able to reach out and touch her.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs to the man. Her accented voice is high-pitched, reminding me of what Sera sounds like. It’s also clear as a bell. I have never in my life been able to hear a spirit other than Sera so distinctly. This shakes me.
I fight through the pain to speak. “What’s... his name? What does he... want?”
“Who are you talking to?” Liam asks in exasperation.
Evie begins to fade, but before she goes, I want to try and get some kind of information about what’s happening. I force a deep breath and steel myself for Liam’s reaction.
“Evie. Wait. Why can I hear you so well?”
Liam’s eyes shoot over to meet mine and he suddenly looks as if he’s been stunned with a Taser. He rises in one swift movement – moving through Evie’s image – and stands rim-rod straight in the middle of my room with his hands balled into clenched fists at his sides.
“His name is Joseph,” she says while fixing her eyes on Liam. I note that she doesn’t answer my other question.
“How do you... know that? What does... he want with... me?” I gasp.
“Why is she here?” Liam ask in a shaky voice. “Why!?”
I jump in reaction to his tone and look over to her with confused eyes.
“I’m not sure,” I whisper.
“I’m trying to help,” she says quickly as she fades even more. I can only faintly see her now. She looks every inch the ghost that she is with whispy features and a see-through exterior.
“She’s… trying to… help.” I say in between shallow breaths.
Liam’s face becomes guarded.
“With what?” he asks cautiously. I shake my head. I have no clue, but I wish I knew. “Breckin, you need to tell me who that man is. Right now,” Liam demands in a low, angry voice.
His furious tone surprises me, but I otherwise ignore it to answer him. I focus my squinted gaze toward the man and I can see that he’s starting to fade along with Evie.
“He won’t know his name.” Evie says before I answer.
“I don't know him. He’s older, his clothes are wet… his skin is chalky-gray and sallow. There's water... like it's raining over him. He looks like he’s in pain... he has injuries in the same spots as where I... hurt.”
Liam closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “What is he wearing?”
His question isn’t one that makes any sense to me, but his tone makes it clear he isn’t to be questioned.
“He has on dark pants – blue jeans I think and a button up shirt. Flannel maybe? It’s hard to tell, my vision is clouded and he's beginning to disappear.”
Liam suddenly lets out a very loud roar that causes me to jump even more than before. It scares me so much that I don’t notice the agonizing pain ebb – or the picture frame that goes flying across the room on its own accord. I look over to where Joseph had been standing and see that he’s disappeared completely now.
“Not again!” Liam snarls. “Don't do this to me AGAIN!”
“Liam, what’s wrong with you? Do what again?”
“It’s him, Breckin!”
“What…?”
“Don’t you see? The man that took her from me! That bastard, what the hell is he doing here?” Liam begins to violently pace the tiny space of my room with such ferocity that he makes me nervous. “No. No. No!” he says as he shakes his head, fisting his hands into his hair.
“Liam, I don’t know why he’s here. He’s gone now. It’s o-”
“NO! It’s not okay. Don’t you dare say that it’s okay!”
“But look. See?” I say as I stand up. “I'm fine now. All the pains gone. He’s gone. I really am okay.”
“You won’t be,” he warns. Liam stops his erratic pacing and takes two long strides to stand in front of me. He puts his hands around the tops of my arms and gives me a slight little shake. “He took her. He's going to take you, too.”
I’m so taken aback by Liam’s reaction that I can’t move to try and soothe him. Evie then moves to stand next to him, and bile rises in my throat to her close proximity. She raises a whispy hand up as if to stroke his cheek and Liam closes his eyes at the exact moment her hand would have touched his skin.
“Tell him I’m okay,” she whispers.
“Evie wants you to know that she’s all right,” I blurt
out in an attempt to calm him in some way.
Liam’s eyes snap open and the same silent tears that he’d cried the night before start to run angrily and desperately over his furious face.
“I have to go,” he says suddenly. He lets go of my arms with a sudden jerk and takes off toward the front door.
“What? Why?” I squeak as I struggle to follow after him.
“I’m sorry, Breckin. I have to. I can’t do this.”
“But Liam, I don’t understand. I’m sorry if I…”
“No, it’s nothing you did,” he growls. “It’s better this way. I’m sorry.”
Liam wraps his hands around the tops of my arms again, gripping them firmly and chastely kisses my forehead. He then turns and yanks open the front door with such force I think I hear the hinges moan in protest. I follow behind him, reaching out for his hand. I manage to wrap my fingers around his as he reaches the porch. I stand horrified and utterly panicked as a single tear escapes.
“Liam, please. Don’t go.” I beg.
His face doesn’t appear to be furious or sad now. It’s empty. He stares into the distance clearly not seeing anything in front of him as I squeeze his fingers.
“I can’t do this,” he repeats.
As his words burn a whole into my heart, I watch as he storms to his car, slamming the door and spins out of the drive to speed away.
Chapter Sixteen
Liam didn’t come back.
He didn’t call.
When I go to school the next day, I don’t see Liam until math class. I’m really surprised that this is the first time I’ve seen him all day. I was expecting him to be waiting for me in the parking lot, or maybe next to my locker when I arrived to school. But I haven’t seen him all day. I finally see him as he’s walking through the door to Calculus. He doesn’t look up to meet my awaiting gaze and it sends a spasm of cold fear running down the length of my spine.
Liam looks unseeingly ahead of him and makes a beeline to his seat. This isn’t the Liam I know, the boy brusquely walking to his desk wears a face that’s hard and expressionless. His shoulders are tense, each arm is held taught as the muscles and tendons bulge and strain with his movements. And his eyes – they’re blank, vacant. I start to reach out toward him but Mr. Stevens walks through the door then, and he doesn’t waste any time starting class.
I don’t pay any attention to the lecture. Instead, I let my imagination run wild with reasons and scenarios as to why Liam finds it necessary to give me the cold shoulder. Furthermore, why does he look so empty, and seem to be so impassive?
The first reason I come up with is probably the most logical. Liam is so upset about what had happened that he just can’t face me. He doesn’t know how to react to the news of Evie, or discovering that the scary old man that is haunting me seems to be the same man from his accident. Liam had said, it's him. The one who took her from me. I only assumed that to mean that Joseph was the other person in the accident that night. But I still don’t understand what Liam had meant when he said that I wouldn't be okay. Sure, whenever Joseph appears I become so absolutely taken with unyielding agony that I can't function. But that always disappears as soon as he does. I really am okay. Shaken up, sure. Totally confused by everything that’s happened, absolutely. But okay.
Second, a somewhat logical explanation – he thinks I’m crazy. Straight up nuts, off my rocker, a total loon. Maybe after I’d told him that I was talking to Evie, felt pain from someone that couldn’t be seen, and had a best friend that doesn’t exist, he’s decided whatever charade he believes I’m acting out has gone too far. Liam had only been humoring me in listening to my stories about Sera. He wasn’t sure how to react to my story then, and he thought it better to go along at the time. Maybe he's already made a reservation for me at the funny farm. But that doesn’t explain his reaction to my explanation of the man I saw standing outside my window. And also what he'd said about him. And he seemed to genuinely believe in what I was telling him. I also can tell that he senses Evie. Joseph, too. He just doesn’t know it.
Thirdly, ridiculously – he perhaps thinks that I’m making a mockery of his pain over Evie. That’s absolutely absurd, but at this point I’m considering anything. No. I push that one aside.
Fourthly, the worst – he wholeheartedly believes that I can see Evie and Joseph. But somehow having them near makes it unable to move on from her memory. I know how much it upsets Liam to think of Evie and so now that he knows she’s coming around, maybe it makes it that much harder for him to not think of her. Maybe he’s just so consumed with grief that he doesn’t want to face me for fear of what I might see. Not what I might see around me, but what I’ll see in him. He did tell me that he hadn’t meant for me to ever witness the agony it causes him whenever he thinks of her. But I can help him through it. I will help him through it. Together, we can get through this.
But is it possible that Liam has slipped back into the deep depression that had once consumed him after her death? Did the news of Evie wanting him to know that she’s okay, pull him back under into a deep dark pool of despair? I just don’t know. Can he look at me without seeing her? Without thinking of her? Will he not be able to have a relationship with me now because I transport the unbearable pain of Evie’s memory screaming back into his mind?
I should’ve just kept my stupid mouth shut. And for some odd reason I still don’t like the fact that Evie is coming around. Not just for obvious reasons, but for reasons I don’t seem to be able to explain. I don’t trust her. I feel something wrong in the air around her when she appears.
So many questions that I might not ever know the answers to. My head is spinning from all the thoughts chaotically whirling through it. Clammy sweat has begun to bead on my forehead and my hair now clings uncomfortably to the back of my sticky neck.
Class continues at a snail’s pace and all I can do is ponder over all the different reasons for Liam ignoring me. I obsessively dissect every moment from the day before and I have to admit some of the thoughts I have for Liam ignoring me are more ridiculous than others. Although I can’t stop my ever working mind from thinking them no matter how stupid and unwanted. The more I think, the more panicky I become. My palms are sweating now as I grip my desk for support. I can’t breathe – but it’s a different feeling from when I’d had the breath sucked out of me in the pool. An entirely different feeling than when I lose my breath in reaction to Liam. I don’t like it. My body begins to burn, but not in a good way. This is a jarring feeling –several rapid stings all over my body – pins and needles or a mob of angry bees. Then it turns almost to the point of numbness; a painful numbness. Kind of dull, but not quite. An annoyance I’ll have to sit through. I don’t like this feeling either. Maybe completely numb would just be better.
I become light headed when I discover that I’m not taking complete breaths. My heart is beating way too fast, but not in excitement or pleasure; anxiety has my heart racing and I feel as though there’s a fault line running through it. It starts to quiver as I let my imagination get the best of me. A few people glance over in my direction with worried expressions when my raspy gasping becomes an octave higher than silence. I notice too, that I’m shaking uncontrollably as my chair noisily hammers against the floor.
I ignore Amber when she snorts and rolls her eyes. “Looks like the drowned rat shouldn’t’ve tried coming back to school,” she says in an annoying drawl.
I attempt to slow my hyperventilating as I wipe the sticky sweat from my forehead, but discover myself to be unsuccessful. The dull ache in my throat begins to scorch again with every ragged breath I take. Mr. Stevens’ voice becomes muffled as the edges of the room start to blur and then everything in my peripheral vision begins to blacken. Is this what a full-on panic attack is like or am I just passing out? I strive to convince myself that it’s silly and stupid to feel like this. I will try and hold down the drama and save the panic attack for when there’s reason to have one. Although I desperately want to believe that
there won’t be any need for my anxiety, I have a gut feeling that that will not be the case.
I look over in Liam’s direction and see that he hasn’t moved an inch from when he had taken his seat, even though everyone around him now turns to look at me every few minutes. He’s sitting casually with one leg extended and an arm cast behind him on his chair. But I can tell that he still isn’t relaxed. His shoulders are too tense and can I see from where I sit, although I’m behind him, that his eyes are closed. The bell rings then and I jump a foot out of my seat. Liam starts to get up and I fumble as I hurry to gather my things and catch up to him. I drop my calculator and Mr. Stevens leers at me as I bend to pick it up and mutter an apology. I can’t get my books into a neat pile to carry in my arms. I am always so much clumsier when I’m in a hurry.
I meet him just outside the door and I try grabbing his hand. He whirls around and looks down to me with an expression that doesn’t make me feel any better about my previous thoughts. He tries maneuvering his hand from mine slyly as he slides it into his jeans pocket, but I can tell that it’s intentional. I act like I don’t notice.
“Hey,” I say, trying to manage a smile. “So do you think that you’d be able to come over after practice? I totally don’t understand this math assignment. Or I could come over to your place if you’d like that better.” I’m not sure if being at my house is such a good idea at the moment.
We’re to my locker now. Liam reaches a hand up to rest it on the empty space above my sticky door. When he looks to me again, I can tell that he’s having trouble with what he wants to say although trying to remain nonchalant and expressionless at the same time.
“Um, not tonight. I’ve got a ton of homework.” As he says this, he whirls the combination dial to my locker unthinkingly and opens it in one swift movement.
“We could do it together.” I murmur. It comes out like a question.
“I’ll call you after practice,” he says with a smile. I would take the smile to be some sort of reassurance, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
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