Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
THEO
Iavoid slipping back into the void so I’ll be here when Kennedy gets back.
Waiting for her has triggered a nervous flutter in my belly that I haven’t felt since I was a teenager.
I was once a master at letting my mind drift to far off places, unreachable by reality, but now that I’m no longer alone, I’m forced to remain in the moment.
It wasn’t always like that. There was another person’s company I enjoyed spending time with before everything changed, but after that, I spent my days floating through the spirit plane, purposefully losing all track of time and space.
I needed the escape after what happened, but I can’t do that anymore knowing Kennedy could show up at any moment.
It would be disrespectful to abandon her in a house that’s not hers.
Nor can I leave her to her own devices without truly understanding what it means to be a ghost.
Then there’s that part of me that wants to be near her, a part that fears I'll miss something if I’m not.
I pass through the wall of the foyer and float back into the living room where the fire is still burning low.
The soft crackles of wood shifting soothes my ears.
I felt at home in the quiet for so long, but now it feels suffocating.
It’s as if Kennedy’s presence has woken up the part of me that craves connection—suddenly I desire a sign of life from anything, even just a flickering flame.
There was a moment last night, after Kennedy had gone to sleep in my bed, that I could swear the temperature of the house had risen.
Perhaps such an enormous disruption to my daily life was playing tricks on my mind, but I’m almost certain that having her here has made the room upstairs feel just a little bit warmer.
I wish to feel that warmth again. Though being able to feel her tether in the house comforts me slightly, it’s nowhere near as powerful as when she’s here beside me.
Waking up and realizing she was gone affected me in ways I didn’t think were possible anymore.
All it took was for her to stay here one night, and my entire afterlife has been uprooted.
The house has always been quiet, but with Kennedy being gone it’s oddly silent.
I had gotten so used to being alone amongst the cobwebs and layers of dust that I forgot what loneliness actually feels like.
However, now that her dynamic presence is missing, that emptiness crashes down on me like an anvil, the only sound being the occasional gusts of wind that shoves against the sides of the house, as if demanding to be let in and take part in it my anguish.
When I made my fateful decision all those years ago to remain in my family’s home, I thought I would eventually die here, leaving no remains of my sins to taint the outside world. I thought I was being heroic, but in reality I cursed myself to be buried by my guilt for all eternity.
Having magic in my family meant I knew all about spirits, but I’d never actually seen a ghost. I imagined them to be like faint flashes of light out of the corner of my eye, or the darkest part of a shadow.
I certainly didn’t think of them as being like us, appearing just like humans.
This is why it took so long for me to understand what happened to me.
For the longest time, I didn’t think I was actually dead.
I was still in my house after all, surrounded by my father’s things.
But things felt off after a while. I didn’t eat, yet I never felt starved.
I had no need to use the facilities, drink water, or even sleep.
I found myself wandering through the house listlessly without purpose, until finally I began to consider my situation.
I wondered if I was dreaming, and eventually the thought even crossed my mind that I’d crossed into hell. But over time, I came to understand that I wasn’t in Satan’s fiery pits—I was stuck in a new form of purgatory.
I had died, and my spirit chose to remain on the earthly plane.
I never thought in a million years I’d have company again. Not since Moira and her mother moved away. After that, I thought I’d have the rest of my afterlife to wallow alone, but fate seemed to have other plans.
Thinking about Kennedy’s bright smile and explosive personality only makes me want to feel anything other than this fervent loneliness that won’t stop pressing in on me.
So, for the first time in years, I shift into my physical body and walk out the front door to greet the cold, embracing the feel of its caress against my cheek.
I force myself to stand there as long as I can, shoes buried in snow up to my shins and gooseflesh forming along my arms. I could summon a jacket from my memory to ward myself against the elements, but I want to feel the bitterness.
For just a moment, I want to remember what it used to be like before I was dead.
Being on my own for so long, I lost the desire to shift into my old corporeal body. It required too much energy, and there was no one around, so there was no point. But now that I’ve done it, the weight of my limbs feels rewarding, like I earned them after going without for so long.
It gives me something else to carry besides the never-ending weight of guilt that’s strapped to my back.
While the bitter cold and sensation of my body is temporarily distracting, it doesn’t last long enough for me to forget she isn’t here.
Worry starts to creep across my mind like fog, clouding my thoughts.
I currently have no way of knowing where Kennedy is.
Did she venture further into the forest, or has she slipped back into the void?
Should I try to find someone to look for her?
Fear keeps me planted where I stand.
My physical legs want to run. They want to lead me into town to look for her. But my mind won’t allow it. I’m frozen to the spot, like the icicles clinging to the branches high above me.
“You’re a coward,” I curse myself with chattering teeth. “You were always meant to die in this house.”