“Be back before dark, okay?” mom said as I pulled on my parka.
“Okay,” I said then, slipping on my gloves. “I can do that.”
“And… just… be careful,” she said gently, pulling me into a hug and lightly kissing my head.
I smiled when she pulled back. “You aren’t going to come with?”
“No, I have to ready for work,” she said quietly.
“Wow,” I said then, brows drawing together, “they really make you work until you’re dead, don’t they?”
Mom just gazed up. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright, mom,” I smiled gently, “with all you’re providing, the least I could do would understand your time, right? You’ve been working so hard, and I appreciate that.”
She just pulled me into a hug, making me gasp. “Oh… how did I get such a good daughter.” She lightly kissed my forehead. “Just be careful.”
She then let me go and patted my cheek.
And I nodded, smiling gently before I turned and walked out the door.
I half-expected Damon to be standing on the porch or on the side of the house, waiting for me… but he wasn’t there.
Hmm… maybe he was busy today.
Then why the hell did he get so mad at me for hiding from him? He only had to keep close tabs on me when I was in danger, and I wasn’t then and wasn’t now.
God that man was so confusing.
I just stepped down the front porch steps and made my way down the street.
I continued forward for about ten minutes, exiting my neighborhood, then finding my way into oldtown. After, I finally ended up at a pair of large, thin gates.
A sign above them read:
Three Parks Cemetary.
I just closed my eyes tightly before entering, and I held my hands tightly to my chest as I continued forward.
Until I ended at a gravestone that read:
Cameron Jeffery Williams
Father, son, and husband.
Born November 5, 1978
Died August 12, 2014
May He Rest In Peace
I stood there awkwardly for a moment, feeling the wind bite into my skin as a small drift of snow blew over to my right.
As the cold flakes dusted my cheeks, I let my lashes lower.
“Hi, dad,” I said then, still standing there awkwardly. “I know I do this every year, and you’ve probably moved on to a better place, and all… but I guess I can remain somewhat sane pretending that you’re here, in ghost form.”
I continued staring down at the gravestone. “Mom’s still working her butt off,” I told him, holding my hands out in front of me. “She has two jobs and is weighing them both hand in hand. I tried to get a job myself to help her, but she got mad and wouldn’t talk to me for a couple days.” I chuckled sadly. “She works days and nights… and she sleeps the rest. I can only manage time with her on our little lunch dates.” I gazed up then. “I’m a sophomore in high school now! I just turned sixteen. Exciting, right?”
The wind blew the soft glisten of snow off his gravestone.
“Uhm… yeah, so I met Damon for the first time. You remember him, right?” I laughed nervously. “Yeah, he’s changed a lot. He’s more of a butthead now and he likes to mess with me. I guess I don’t mind it that much.”
Another awkward silence fell, and I shivered as the wind howled through the graveyard.
A whole swift of cold covered me then, and I started shaking when tears boiled in my eyes.
“Well, dad…” I said then, voice breaking, “h—happy birthday. I know I come here every year, and… and I know that…” my breath shuttered as hot tears slipped down my cheeks, “I know that it’s been so long and I should move on, but dad… we still haven’t found him. We… he’s still out there. And… and I can’t find him, and I can’t rest knowing he’s out there, gloating.”
Hot tears slipped further down my cheeks, and I clutched my chest, fisting my jacket in my hand.
“Oh, god, it hurts…” I said then, closing my eyes tightly. “It’s been ten years, dad. It’s been ten years. If only you were here with me… I could breathe again.” I gazed up as my heart sunk deeper into my chest. “Mom wouldn’t be hurting herself, and you could’ve watched me grow! You could’ve helped me stand up again to those bullies in middle school, and you could’ve guided me through my driving lessons.”
I dropped to my knees then, clutching my hair tightly. “I can’t find him,” I expressed. “I can’t find him—I can’t find him—I can’t find him! He’s out there, taunting me! What am I not seeing?! What is it I’m missing?!” I stared down at his gravestone. “I just… I just kept hearing his thoughts, dad. I could hear him taunting me when I found you… dead… but I couldn’t find him. His words echo through my thoughts every day now. On repeat… over—and over—and over again. And I can’t find him, I can’t breathe….” I set my head on his gravestone. “I can’t think straight… I can’t….”
I then dropped to the ground, numb and cold as I curled up into a ball on his grave. “I want you to…” I said, staring at my hands, “hold me again.”
I then hugged myself, closing my eyes tightly to shield the pain from my sight, and I just held myself… trying to breathe.
I remained in that position for too long, and after about ten minutes, I started drifting.
The pain was melting, the cold burning me, but I could ignore it.
I just wanted to be with him one last time. I wanted him to see me now… so grown.
If only… If only.
After a couple more minutes, I heard footsteps crunching through the snow behind me, but I kept my position.
They stopped right next to my back, and I heard them kneel down.
When their wood-like scent washed through me, I opened my eyes, knowing it was Damon.
He didn’t say anything, just lightly caught my shoulder and turned me onto my back.
I didn’t move without him helping, feeling paralyzed by the pain.
He just slipped his arms under me and scooped me up.
I breathed uneasily when he held me to his chest and started walking.
After a moment, I turned my face into his neck, just realizing that I was shaking like a life wire, and that my skin was so cold against his.
“Shhh…” Damon cooed. “I got you.”
I kept my face buried into his neck, breaths strained and uneasy.
But I heard a small thought slip through his mind:
You’re obsessed with finding the killer, and you couldn’t.
That’s why you went insane.
My lashes lowered, and I held my position, trying to warm myself with his body heat as he continued further down the streets…
Until about ten minutes later, we entered an abandoned parking lot.
I looked around nervously when he continued forward.
“Where are we going?” I said quietly.
“It’s a surprise,” he said then, sending me a smile.
I just relaxed back into his arms, looking forward when he entered a shed on the far right of the parking lot, and then continued further and further toward the back… until he opened a second door.
I gasped, nearly rolling out of his grip, but he held onto me tighter.
“Patience, kitten,” he said then, chuckling.
I just looked around curiously, finding a large bright-lit hallway descending from the doorway, and there were doors lined on every side like some old-fashioned, red-carpeted hotel.
I looked back up to Damon as he walked into the first door on the right, and I blinked.
It was a room… no. Not a room… an apartment.
There was a small opening that led to the living room on my left, and there was a staircase with a couple steps that lead to two doors side-by-side… and on the right… there was a hallway.
Damon just carried me all the way to the living room, and he gently set me down onto the couch, afterward stepping over to the fireplace and switching it on.
I watched curiously as he picked up a small blanket left on the floor and walked over to me.
I was still shivering, and he could clearly tell.
After setting the blanket beside me, he unzipped my parka and guided me out of it, and I watched as he tossed the snow-covered clothing aside.
He then removed my beanie, gloves, shoes, and socks, tossing them away, as well.
And I let him because… why not?
Afterward, he pulled the blanket over me, wrapping me up like a burrito before he sat beside me, lightly rubbing my arms to warm me up.
“I—is th—is your pa—packhouse…?” I said, the words quivering with my tremors.
“Yes,” he said then, still rubbing my arms.
“D—does e—each room—h—have an apartment like t—this?”
“Yes.” His tone was curt because he was focusing on getting me warm.
“C—cool,” I said then, “I th—think it l—looks co—ol like th—this.”
“That’s why I designed it this way,” he said then, pulling me to his chest. “Get closer. Your lips are turning blue.”
I set my head on his chest as he continued rubbing my arms, trying to use his warmth to warm me.
“I d—didn’t know you—lived s—so close t—to—m—me.”
“I didn’t know you were close either,” he said then, breath dusting my neck with heat. “Not until a couple days ago.”
I felt myself keep shivering despite the heat from the fireplace and blanket bleeding into me.
“S—so w—were y—you wat—ching me the wh—whole time…?” I asked him then.
“Yes,” he responded, still rubbing my arms. “And yes, I heard what you said.”
“Funny…” I responded, “I was j—just about to—ask th—that.”
“That’s why I said it,” he said then, sounding amused. “I apologize for taking too long. I didn’t realize you were asleep, or I would’ve picked you up sooner.”
“No—need to ap—pologize,” I said to him.
“Shhh…” he cooed then, “don’t waste your breath. Just close your eyes and focus on getting warmer.”
“O—okay.”
I closed my eyes then and kept my head to his chest, breathing uneasily.
After a moment, I parted my lashes. “D—Damon… can I go t—to sleep?”
“Yes, go ahead,” he said then. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I k—know,” I said then. “Just wanted to w—warn y—ou.”
“Go to sleep,” he urged then.
I just closed my eyes and kept myself to him, feeling him rubbing my arm still in comfort as I relaxed into him and slowly… fell asleep.
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