Three months before that day
It was April the 13th of 2012, a Friday. Yeah it is Friday the thirteenth. Two weeks before my project was due, I am here after school thinking about my project what my history teacher gave us. She had given us a 4 page essay on one of the worldly disasters, I chose to do it about 9/11. So I went on my laptop, to get started, until my cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hey Danny it's me, mom."
"Hey mom, what is it?"
"Honey, did you take your medicine?"
Come on mom, "yes I did, and yes I'm good, saved the world, did my school work, and did not get in trouble." I didn't know why but ever since a week after I saved the world, she had been asking me the same questions on the cell phone, about my fucking medicine, and I am getting sick of this. It's like she didn't trust me anymore, well, I guess I deserved it after lying to the people for almost a year.
"Danny, what did I say about talking like that?"
"Sorry mom, I am doing well, and why do I have to take this every day of my life?"
"because, ever since that accident, you had been acting crazy, and the doctor said because of your ghost self, one day it can get worse, and don't forget to take it every day, understand sweetie?"
"Yes mom, I understand, listen I got to go, I have a school project to do, I'll talk to you soon. Bye."
"All right see you soon, love you!"
"You too."
You see, when I was almost four, they said I fell off a tree and hit my head, and stayed in the hospital for a week. And, not even my friends know, I suffered through short term memory loss, but wasn't that serious, only for a few days. Ever since I got out I had been taking this medication, my mom said that the doctor said there was a chance that it can come back, two pills a day. But the crazy thing was, ever since I was young, my head had always hurting, my eyes had been itching like crazy, and I always had the feeling to leave this place forever. But why, I don't know, this is my home.
I never shared this with anybody, but ever since I was young, I had been having these nightmares on some nights. It was usually the same, but nothing fit. It was a family lying on the ground unconscious, a 2 year old sitting there, crying, and I hear a boy screaming for his dad, saying papa, I am guessing it was a Spanish family. These bad dreams had been going on for as long as I can remember. I was surfing through the internet for the people who died from 9/11. Then, I see this name, saying Victoria C. Juarez. I went to her profile, and saw the picture. My head started to hurt; I thought it was because I had been in the computer for a while. But there was something about her that made me think, she looks so familiar. I thought she was just a friend of my parents, or an old babysitter.
RING
That was probably my father, Jack Fenton, a ghost hunter returning from work, and thankfully I had school. I don't like school, but I hate going to work with him on the weekends even more. It's not because he don't pay me, I didn't mind, but it's the fact that he's been treating me like a baby and always shout these comments about me doing a great job every time I shoot down a ghost or captured them. Like last Sunday, Good job son, ever since you were little, I knew you were going to do something great in your life! It started to become embarrassing and it started to get on my nerves.
"Hey son how are you doing?"
"I am doing well and I am doing a project, can you just go now?"
"Excuse me; can you please repeat what you just said?"
"Oh, sorry, can you please leave so I can finish this project?" I said that more respectively, ever since my 16th birthday, I had more of my temper rising every day; I even had detention just for cursing after Mr. Lancer asked for homework. It wasn't because I didn't have my homework; it was because I loudly said oh shit, after I got a paper cut. They even said to my parents that I did it that fucked me up, so I stayed home all weekend.
"That's better, your mom will be here soon, and jazz too."
"I will be down in a while."
Then he closed the door. Right now, jazz is driving back from her freshman year in college for the weekend. She goes to some college that's like 2 hours away, so I haven't seen her in two and a half weeks, since she couldn't make it all the time. Then,
Ring
the doorbell rang, telling me that they are here.
