IN THE SHADOWS

The lights blinded him from all sides as he lifted his arms, blocking the glow, plunging him back into darkness as he waited for the inevitable blow to strike. He could hear the metal-on-metal crunch as the cars collided, throwing him around as it spun in the air, lifting the coffee cups, loose change, and passengers high in the air before dropping and landing with a sickening-

Jon sat up in bed, panting as his heart reacted to his stable surroundings. Slowing down with every second, as he heaved his chest with every deep breath in and out.

He reached to his right where his wife would be sleeping only to come up empty as his hands felt the satin sheets she had bought six months ago.

The last purchase she would make.

Jon sighed as he caressed the spot where his wife should be before looking at the clock, 5:42. He stood from the bed, careful to make his side only, and made his way into the kitchen. He started the coffee pot and poured a bowl of overly sugary cereal that he could not seem to stop buying. He looked across the table to see his daughter, Lilly. Her brown hair laid flat and long as it hung down to her waist.

That’s how he knew it was her ghost.

Lilly’s hair had to be cut right under her chin for her funeral. It had been so tangled and matted from the collision that it was impossible to smooth out without giving away what she had been through.

That was six months ago.

Six months of seeing his wife and daughter’s apparitions. They were always silent, just watching him as he went about his day. Following him from the house, they shared to his office and back.

It was always just a glimpse of them in the mirror or out of the corner of his eye. Enough to recognize them being there, but with a second glance, they’d vanish.

Jon finished his morning routine before getting into his car and driving over to his company’s office located a few towns over. He had just begun to feel comfortable driving again. He slipped in behind the wheel of his 2004 Hyundai Elantra and headed over to work even though the sun had just started to rise.

He was the first in, and on most days the last out, working most of the day to distract him from the pain he had to face when he stumbled back to an empty house depleted of life.

Jon hung up the phone after a rather long discussion with an unhappy customer when his supervisor and best friend Tim sat down across from him.

“Is there something you need, Tim?” Jon asked, rubbing his eyes, inevitably breaking more capillaries in the fragile skin.

“You know,” The younger man leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, “No one would blame you if you took some time off.”

“I did.” Jon returned.

“Yeah, but Jon.” He sought for the words his friend needed to hear. “You need more. When was the last time you slept?” Jon opened his mouth before Tim cut him off, “And I mean more than just an hour or two at a time. A full night's sleep, hell, a stretch of five hours or more?”

Jon let his head fall, unable to admit to his closest friend that he was struggling. Unable to admit to himself that he was incapable of functioning after losing his whole family.

That and seeing their ghosts even after he opened his eyes. “Buddy, let me help.” His friend pleaded with him. Jon opened his eyes and saw the concern in his friend’s face. The look landed somewhere between outright terror and palpable worry. It’s the same look his father gave him when he had told him he was enlisting in the marines. It was the intensity in his eyes that made Jon tell him.

He confessed the past six months and how he was sharing a house with his wife and daughter's apparitions.

Tim sat back in his chair after hearing Jon’s confession. “Jon, man. I-”

“You think I'm crazy.”

“No, Jon. You’ve been through a lot. Really, I'm not surprised, but... you know you’re not really seeing their ghosts, right? It’s just the stress that you’ve been under.”

“Yeah,” Jon lied, “Obviously I do.”

“Here,” Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out a small scrap of paper, which when handed to Jon was discovered it was, in fact, a business card.

Mark Rosenbalm

Trauma Therapist

555-8734

“Mark’s been incredible. He’s helped me through so much after my accident,” He referred to the plane crash he was in years prior, “Give him a call.” Jon nodded as he watched his friend leave before placing the card in the top drawer of his desk with the other forgotten papers of the past few years.

He carried on the day with half-open eyes avoiding any place other than the work in front of him to avoid seeing anything other than what he was supposed to.

It was near dark by the time he left the office for the day. His footsteps echoed on the concrete as he raced to the only car remaining in the lot. He clicked the fob and opened the door, sliding into the front seat, and placed his briefcase on the seat next to him.

On habit, he looked in the rearview mirror and as he had for the past six months he was greeted with his daughter's impossibly alive green eyes. The same eyes he had passed down to her. He turned around, knowing she would be gone, as she always was but, on this day, instead of the backseat being empty there was a small scrap of paper in the middle seat. Jon reached over and picked up the torn scrap and read:

Jon,

Lilly and I just got back from the park.

The remaining blood Jon had in his face drained completely as he dropped the scrap. Allowing it to fall to the floor near his feet.

It was the letter his wife had left him before she and Lilly left, the house for the last time.

Right before the crash that took both of their lives.

John stared at the piece of paper at his feet for long enough for the street lights to turn on and for most people to turn in for the night.

He had been plagued with seeing the ghosts of his deceased family for nearly half a year, why were they now leaving him notes. And why a note he’d already seen?

Jon looked at the note for a moment longer before throwing the car into drive and heading towards the park Lilly had always loved. The note must mean something. After all this time there must be a meaning for it.

A few minutes later Jon pulled into the empty playground at the park well after the last families would have left. He spotted a car down the lot, most likely some teenagers, but paid them no mind as he stepped out of the car and onto the raised playground.

At a first glance, it looked like any other time he had visited the playground. The swings swayed lightly with the breeze as he searched for anything that would be significant.

That’s when his eyes settled on the slide.

Lilly used to slide down the structure for hours on end. The metal twisting material had a familiar touch under his palms as he tranced the outline. When he got to the end, he ducked his head in the opening and glanced around. Right at the first turn up, he spotted a flash of white. He reached and grabbed the small white scrap, revealing itself to be the second part of the note he had received earlier.

We are heading over to see if we can catch you at work.

Work? He had just left the building to come here. What could be there? He assumed it would be another part of the note, but what was the end game? Why the notes and why now? He jumped back in the car and retraced the roads that were taken to the park and back to his office building. He parked in the same spot and unlocked the door. He ran up to where his office was located and gave a small nod to the man vacuuming the floor of the entryway, turning to where his desk was located. It was a hunch that the note would be there and sure enough, right in the center of the desk, a small white piece of paper was laid carefully down.

But if you have already left and are driving.

Back to the car, Jon told himself, chuckiling, it was just like them to send him all around town just to make him go back to the place he started. Before he left, he noticed that something else was on the desk, under the note. He picked up the even small white piece of paper only to realize it was the therapist’s card that Tim had given him just a few hours earlier. Why did they put the card under the paper? Was it always there? Were they trying to tell him something with this?

Jon sat down in his chair and looked at the clock. It was nearing nine at night, the office was probably closed for the day, but maybe he should leave a message. Lilly and Alice must have a reason to leave him this under the note. Maybe he should get some help. Seeing the ghosts of his wife and daughter, no matter how real he knew they were now, it’s something that he should talk to someone about. Plus, it didn’t help that neither Lilly nor Alice would speak to him. They would show themselves but never talk, just sit and watch. He knew he wasn’t crazy, no. He wasn’t. This was real, but it didn’t matter. Talking to someone was healthy and maybe he could control it. Maybe he could stop having the same nightmare over and over again.

He ripped a piece of paper from his notepad and jotted a quick thank you note to Tim, as well as a notice that he was going to take the rest of the week off. He didn’t know if he was really going to take the rest of the week off, but this way he could see the doctor whenever he had availability and placed it on his desk.

He fished out his cellphone from his jacket pocket and dialed the number on the card as he exited the area to head back to his car. The phone rang three times before being directed to the voice mailbox of Mark Rosenbalm.

“Hi.... this is Jon... Jon Fields. I got your card from Tim Andrews. He said I should give you a call. I know it’s a little late but I thought I should call.” He began, wondering how much he should let him know. It took him six months to tell Tim, his best friend, so how much did he really want to tell a stranger? “I lost my wife and daughter earlier in the year and I’ve been having trouble.... moving forward. It would be easier to tell you in person. Give me a call when you get in.” He hung up the phone as he unlocked his car and slid in. As he glanced in the mirror, he saw Lilly, as he always did, but this time she wasn’t her long-haired pre-crash self but instead her hair was cut in the bob he had seen her in last and her face. It was burned and scarred, pieces of flesh completely missing from some areas.

Jon let out a brief, albeit loud scream that was sure to garner some attention if he stayed there any longer. He wiped around to look in the backseat but Lilly had vanished and instead a small piece of paper remained. He picked it up and read the final note.

We are going to my parent’s house for a visit.

Meet us there.

He didn’t even buckle his seatbelt as he threw the car in reverse and out into the main road as he sped towards his in-law's house.

Lilly was deteriorating. Does this mean she was losing her form and she would disappear? What about Alice? Questions flooded his head as he raced across town. He found his in-law's house, with their bedroom room light still lit, and sent a silent prayer up thanking whatever was out there for letting them still be awake. He parked half in the driveway and half on the grass, narrowly missing the mailbox. He threw his door open and ran to the front entrance which he found to be ajar.

Jon pushed the door open and stepped into the kitchen calling their names. He stepped forward only to slip but caught himself on the edge of the table. He reached for the kitchen light to see what was on the ground but as soon as he turned the light on, he wished he had left it off.

On the ground was a rich, iron-scented, pool of blood. It wasn’t the vibrant red you would see when you got a scrape or pricked yourself with a needle. This was the dark red color of his favorite wine spilled across the floor. So dark in some spots that it looked black.

But what caused it? There was nothing around but the pool by his feet, on his shoes, and bottom of his pants. He screamed out for his in-laws again but was greeted with only silence.

He found his phone and started to call for help when he heard the answering machine start-up in the other room. He found his footing and stepped over as much of the blood as he could as the machine started.

“April eighteenth two thousand and nineteen,” The machine spit out causing Jon to almost lose his footing again. That was the day of the accident.

“Hey, mom and dad it’s Alice. Lilly and I are on our way to your house. I told Jon to meet us here. I thought it would be best if we all came together but he had already left for the day.” She was silent for a second as he listened to the crackle between the lines, “Thanks for letting us do this at your house. Tim said he would be here before Jon arrives so he can look after Lilly and keep her occupied,” Tim? What was Tim supposed to do with visiting Alice’s parents? “I don’t think Jon knows anything about it.... we just need to get him help. He keeps talking about seeing things that are not there, visions of a car crash. He’s starting to scare Lilly and me. Hopefully, between all of us, we can convince him to get some help. We’ll see you soon.” The machine clicked and rolled over for a few seconds before starting over again.

Visions? He had never had visions before the accident. It was after. After they had died, he started seeing things and hearing things and thinking... He needed to talk to Tim. Where was his phone? He just had it. He went back out to see if he left it on the kitchen table, which he did, but in between the table and doorway where he stood was the pool of blood, which no longer was empty.

In the middle of the blood were the mangled bodies of his deceased wife’s parents, Vivian and Austin. On top of their bloodied bodies was a crisp and pristine scrap of white paper.

Love, Alice &Lilly

Jon let out a guttural scream and he tore the paper into tiny shreds, but even when they landed in the blood, they stayed white. He stood up and backed out of the room. He needed to get out of there, he needed to get to a phone he needed to let someone know. He ran down the hall to where their bedroom was and passed the large mirror on the wall and he ran to it. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and almost fell over as he backed up to see himself again.

In the mirror he saw his sunken eyes and unshaven face, he had gotten paler he decided, but on top of all of that were red flecks making him look like a picture Lilly had painted once when she was in school. His hands felt heavy all of a sudden and he looked down at himself and took in his blood-soaked shirt and pants before landing on the ax he was holding. The ax head dripped the same red that covered his face. He glanced back at the mirror and for the first time in six months realized that his family’s reflections were not there. He smiled briefly before the machine clicked off in the room next to him. But it was only silent for a moment.

“Daddy?” he heard next to him. He swerved around but saw nothing.

“Jon.” He heard on the other side of him, but when he turned to where it was coming from, again he saw nothing. The voices didn’t stop though, they grew and grew and overlapped with each other.

“Jon, you’re not well.”

“What’s wrong, daddy?”

“This isn’t...”

“Are you...”

“What are you...”

“.... things are going to be different,”

“.... help. You need to...”

He dropped the ax on the ground and used his hands to cover his ears, but the voices still got through no matter how hard he pressed his fingers together and instead only made the voices louder.

It was the neighbors who called the cops after hearing vicious screams cut through their walls. The broken bodies of Vivan, Austin, and Jon were discovered at the first arrival of the police when they entered the house. Detectives suspected that Jon had a nervous breakdown and killed his in-laws before turning the ax on himself once he came out of his delusions. They had spoken to Tim and filled in that Jon had been in a weak mental state before the car accident and that it had only gotten worse since. He had tried to help by guiding him to speak to someone, but it was too late.

Tim planned the funeral for Jon, burying him in the same plot as his wife and daughter who had been laid to rest earlier in the year. He stayed until everyone left, which weren’t many people, after the town found out he murdered two innocent lives, no matter how much Tim tried to explain that it wasn’t his fault and that he was in an altered state. He remained outside until he lost feeling in his fingers before turning to head home.

He slid in the front seat and turned the engine over. He glanced in the review mirror to back out but instead of the graveyard scenery, he expected to see he instead found himself staring into a pair of familiar green eyes.

“Jon,” He whispered as he turned around, but there was no one there. Only a small jagged piece of paper sitting carefully on the backseat. He reached for the paper and read what it said.

Tim,

I’m at my desk and have decided to take the week off.