Creeping back out into the hall, I listened at my dad’s door for a moment.
Silence.
No light spilled out from beneath the crack, so it seemed safe to assume he had fallen asleep. Tiptoeing back to my room, I closed the door, and then made quick work of putting my shoes back on. I opened the only window, threw one leg over the sill, and stepped out into the night, careful to close it behind me. My room faced the backyard, but there were no other houses beyond ours… just an open field leading to a walking trail that wound around and through town. After retrieving my bike from the shed, I wheeled it through the gate, and then began the short ride to the cemetery.
My dad would have a fit if he knew I was out on my bike this late, but I did it often. Night was the only time I could be alone with Mom, and, for some reason, I needed that today.
Luckily, the path was well lit, iron fixtures illuminating the route past the park and local swimming pool, toward the cemetery where my mother had been buried for almost two years. The wrought-iron gate hung open at the entrance, so I slowed and entered, riding my bike along the paved walkway. I located her headstone with very little effort, near the northwest corner of the yard. The flowers Dad had brought her last week were wilted and slumped in their vase. Making a mental note to bring her fresh ones next week, I lowered myself to the grass, sitting cross-legged in front of the stone.
I sat there for a long while, simply staring at the words carved into the cement.
Moriah McGuire. Wife. Daughter. Sister. Mother. 1969-2014.
After a while, the letters began to blur, and I couldn’t hold the tears in any longer. Lowering my head, I cried in silence, shoulders shaking with the effort it took not to sob out loud. I didn’t want to alert anyone who might be walking nearby to my presence here.
Swiping at my eyes, I glanced back at the stone.
“I miss you,” I whispered. “And I don’t know how to do things without you. Dad is… he makes me worry, and I wish you were here. You would know what to do. I’m graduating next year, and I always wanted to go to Spellman like you, but… I’m so afraid to leave him alone.”
As always, there was no answer. No advice. No comfort. Yet, I still felt better having come here to lay my burdens on her grave. Now that she wasn’t suffering anymore, it didn’t seem so selfish for me to come to her with my problems. Even when she’d been sick, Mom had wanted me to come to her with everything. It was the kind of person she had been—the sort who put others before herself, no matter what. The world seemed a darker place without her.
After my tears had dried, I lay there in the grass for a long while, feeling closer to her despite knowing her soul had long left the remains buried beneath me. Finally, I peeled myself off the ground and went back to my bike. Just as I threw one leg over the seat, a shiver slid down my spine, despite the fact that it was still hot and humid outside. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I began to feel as if I were being watched.
A lump rose up in my throat, choking me with terror as I turned around, scanning my surroundings. Spotting nothing but trees and rows upon rows of grave markers, I breathed a sigh of relief. The sigh broke off on a gasp when movement from behind one of the trees caught my eye. The form of a person stood several yards away. It was no more than a shadow, yet for some reason, I knew it was looking at me from beneath a black hood pulled up over its head.
I stood, one leg on the bike, frozen in that stare for what felt like forever. Finally, the apparition turned away. In the blink of an eye, it disappeared from sight. Realizing I had begun to tremble, I gripped my handlebars and held tight, forcing myself to breathe. I searched for movement to see where the person might have gone, but there was nothing.
Forcing my limbs into motion, I jumped on my bike and pedaled back home as fast as I could. Maybe this whole seeing ghosts thing was genetic. Would they start following me around like they did my dad? And if that were the case, did that make me insane, or incredibly special?
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