Shadowing My Dreams (Haunted Hearts)

Chapter 3

3

Jack

S omething is off.

It’s Los Angeles in the fall, but the sun is still bright in the sky. Outside, the temperature is almost eighty, but my house is super wonky. Cold spots just appear inside the house, and it’s not the air conditioning that I run throughout the year. I’m incredibly hot-natured, and even in the LA winter, I’m walking around in shorts and a t-shirt. But I actually put a hoodie on today because I’d suddenly get a case of the shivers.

‘Someone walked over your grave,’ as my grandma would have said. She was superstitious. Southern superstitious – they took everything very seriously. Don’t walk over a grave or let a black cat cross your path. Turn and spit if someone gives you the evil eye. What the fuck is the evil eye? No one could ever really tell me.

I’m also sore. My body has been fighting to get back into the kind of shape that I’m used to. I get winded a little faster than normal, and my muscles burn and ache with every circuit I do in the gym. It was lucky that I was in such great shape before the accident, but those months of inactivity did take a toll, apparently.

I still had a job, though! That was great news since I had depleted almost every dollar I’d ever saved. But four of my customers took me back on immediately when I walked back into the gym. Everyone was happy to see me, and it felt warm and comfortable to be back in a place that had been like a second home to me.

Hell, I spent more time in the gym than I ever did atmy house. I had worked too much. I planned on keeping my client list smallso that I could have time for myself. It felt necessary – which was odd for me. I was young and still had a whole future ahead to look forward to. But I no longer wanted my life to be just work. I wanted something more.

Whatever happened to me in that hospital – or the accident itself – had changed something fundamental about me. Hopefully, it was for the better. I wanted to do other things. I couldn’t remember the last book that I’d read, which wasn’t about lifting weights or training. I used to love adventure and fantasy books. I still bought all the Percy Jackson books even if I hadn’t read one of them in years. Maybe I would travel more? I should if I could get my finances back in shape. I didn’t want to go into debt. God, I was lucky to have saved all of my money. I could have easily woken up to a nightmare – no job, house, or life to come back to.

I was the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

But I was creeped the fuck out, though. Things were… weird, and I couldn't quite put my finger on why. The last few days, I’ve felt… different . My peripheral vision is all wonky, and I should call my doctor about that. I’m seeing too many floaters, which makes me think I’m seeing someone who’s not there. When I turn to look – nothing. No one is there, even though I feel like I’m not alone. It’s been mainly in the house. But I’ve also seen the same thing walking to work every now and then.

It's freaking me out a little. It makes me feel like someone is watching me, and it’s put me on edge. Last night, while I was sleeping, I woke up in a cold sweat and swore that I hadheard someone breathing heavily. Maybe I woke myself up snoring? Maybe I snore now, even though I had never done so before? Maybe it was just a dream that had felt real? Whatever it was – it made me feel like I was a stranger in my house.

Where the fuck did I put my stupid cell phone?

Before the accident, I would have had it on me at all times. But since coming home, I decided to try to unplug as often as I could. I didn’t want to feel chained to technology anymore. I didn’t need to go on Facebook or Instagram anywhere near as often as I used to. I wanted to take that time back to do something more than scroll.

I‘d been putting my wallet, cell phone, and keys on the little table in my entryway. Out of sight meant out of mind. But it wasn’t there. I was positive that when I came in a few hours ago, I put it here. But only my wallet and keys lay on the table.

I had to have picked it up without meaning to. Old habits do die hard sometimes, and for years, it had practically been attached to me. Maybe I carried it into the living room where I had been sitting watching HGTV? I dug around in the cushions of my couch and looked under it—nothing.

Fuck… I must have laid it down somewhere weird.

I checked the kitchen. I checked the fridge, the freezer, and my cabinets.

I walked into the bathroom and looked anywhere that I might have put it.

Nothing.

I hadn’t been anywhere else. I came home, and the first thing I did was turn on the TV, walk into the kitchen, and make myself a salad. I ate on the couch. I did go to the bathroom once. That’s it. It had to be in the living room somewhere…

I walked around the entire space and found nothing. It wasn’t like I could call it. I didn’t have a landline – I wasn’t eighty. I slumped down on the couch, completely at a loss.

Then, a miracle happened. My phone rang. I knew it was Daveed, that sweet bastard, calling because it was the Darth Vader theme ringtone that I had assigned to him. I jumped up and followed the sound to the base of my stairs.

I hadn’t been upstairs at all. I knew that, so how did…

I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. My legs burned with the effort. I stopped to listen, turned right towards the master bedroom, and stopped in the doorway.

My phone was sitting on the windowsill.

What the actual fuck!

I walked over and picked it up – breathing heavily with exertion. “Daveed,” I answered.

“Dude. What’s happening?”

“I… I have no idea. I…” I stopped myself from telling him. Maybe I did come up here and didn’t remember. I didn’t want him to worry; honestly, I didn’t want to worry myself. I didn’t want to have to go back to the doctor, but there was something wrong – I could feel it. Did I really come up here?

“Dude, what the fuck’s wrong. You sound weird.”

“My phone was upstairs, and I ran.” I mean, it wasn’t a lie. “I’m more out of shape than I thought.”

“Sounds like you need to do the Stairmaster,” he chuckled. “You knew it was going to take time.”

“Yeah…” I sighed. If anything else happened, I would tell him. But for now… I just needed to see if it kept happening, right? “I’m just anxious. This week has been a lot.”

“You tired? Need company or anything?”

“No, man. I mean, yes, I am very tired. But I’m just gonna…” I glanced to the right, swearing that someone had just walked by. “Fuck…” I walked over and sat down on the bed.

“I’m coming over, dude. You sound… You don’t sound right.” He used his serious voice whenever he worried. He had been worried about me a lot. I didn’t deserve him. I barely deserved anyone.

“Ok,” I agreed. I felt totally defeated. Was I going crazy? If two plus two equaled four – something was wrong with me. My phone was upstairs – seeing things that weren’t there – all of it added up to my brain, didn’t it? Maybe they hadn’t found the damage – but I was experiencing it. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

I hung up the phone, slowly stood from my bed, and walked back to the window. The street lamps were burning brightly, making the shadows from the tree outside dance against the ground. The Santa Anna winds were starting. They always made me feel uneasy. A coupleof years ago, they broke a branch that almost hit my car. Thank God I didn’t live in the valley.

I turned to walk away and froze. To the left, a shape moved. Human, but… not. Not solid. I didn’t dare move for fear of losing it. It had stopped and was standing against the wall as if it could see me, too. A chill ran up my spine, and I shivered.

Leave .

The bodiless voice hit me like a fucking freight train. Before I could think straight, I ran downstairs and jumped onto the couch. I pulled the cover over me and tried to make myself as small as possible.

Did that really…

What the fuck was that? Was that real, or was I imagining things? I had never wanted Daveed to get here faster than I did. My brain was trying to make sense out of what I just heard – or imagined – no, heard. It was with my ears, not inside my head. I wasn’t crazy. Fuck, Daveed, walk faster. It’s only one block.

The knock on the door made me jump off of the couch, and I slammed my knee into the table. I grabbed at it and tumbled to the floor. “Fuck!” I bellowed, and Daveed started knocking louder. “Fuck! Coming.”

He had his own set of keys and I heard him quickly unlocking the door. “Dude? Are you ok?”

I slowly picked myself up from the floor. That was going to leave a bruise. “No, man. I don’t think I am,” my voice shook.

I told him what was happening and how worried I was about this being a part of my injury. Before he could say anything – something crashed upstairs.

We both stared at each other, and I slowly stood up. “You heard that, right?”

“Yeah, man. Something fell.” His eyes grew big, and he followed me to the bottom of the stairs.

“I guess we should…”

“Do you have a bat or anything down here?” He whispered.

I shook my head. “Come on.”

We slowly walked up the stairs and looked down the hallway.

“You sure no one’s in here, bro?”

“I don’t think so. I mean… I don’t know, I guess. It sounded heavy, though.” I walked towards my bedroom and stopped abruptly in the doorframe once again.

“Shit,” Daveed’s hot breath hit my neck as he stared around me. “What the fuck?”

Underwear lay everywhere, and the drawer from my nightstand lay on the floor as if someone had pulled it out and thrown it.

“You see that?” I couldn’t believe my eyes.

“I see it.”

“What the fuck,” I huffed. I walked over to the only place that someone could hide and threw the closet door open. Only my neglected dress shirts and polos hung there. “What the fuck is going on?”

Daveed looked like he was about to have a meltdown. “That’s some fucking ghost shit! Nope – black people do not do this. When the house says leave, you walk out the fucking door.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh at him or be happy I wasn’t going insane.

Daveed slept on the couch. I had to beg him to stay.

Nothing else happened all night.

I didn’t believe in ghosts. Did I?