Chapter 6: Familiar

It's raining… again. I don't know how many days has it been since I left the room. Or even slept. I seem to sleep a lot lately though but I'm always tired. It's never been like this or … has it? I remember last time dad took me to an ice cream shop, it was raining too. So bad we were both soaking wet by the time we reached the shop and it was closed. That was the worse day of my childhood self, we got back home and I was so upset I didn't left my room for the rest of the night and then dad came in with some old ice cream we had in fridge and although it tasted awful and dry I still loved it.

Harry was always there. And even when he wasn't I could still sense him somewhere in my unconsciousness, keeping my company with his stories. Despite hating fantasy he made up such imaginary tales I thought he could've become a great kids' stories writer rather than a journalist.

It wasn't fair… what happened to him. He didn't ask for any of this and nor did Walter's mother.

But at least he stayed. Mother… she…she just left.

I was sitting on the couch in the living room; lights were off staring out the window at the rainy dark sky, thinking of the past that still haunted us. The two ghosts I had encountered belonged to Eileen Galvin and Henry Townshend, the previous tenants of room 303 and 302. They were still here, not being able set themselves free or at least that's what I thought. Maybe Walter kept them hostage, torturing their souls or maybe he just didn't want to be alone.

I asked Frank about them on the phone and surprisingly he told me that they were both found dead with Henry's face being so mutilated he wasn't even recognizable at the time.

No one knew what happened to them.

Frank told me some sorrows were never meant to be washed away, somethings cannot be forgotten. Something had happened to that old man as well, I don't know what but he too can understand the meaning of loss.

I don't know what is happening to me. I'm losing more and more touch with the outside universe. I'm stuck in this apartment. I wonder if it was particularly the room itself or the whole apartment or even the town. Not that I am being kept in here by force I am just… unwilling or is it because of—

"Daddy?"

Dad… was there. I didn't realize that he was standing next to the window reading something this whole time. A red covered notebook, I wasn't familiar with.

"What's wrong Cheryl?"

"I thought you would never call me with that name again."

"Well you've always been our little Cheryl."

"Dad… I thought about moving from here, I mean I've been meaning to tell you—"

"Moving? I thought you always hated moving."

"I know."

"I like it here Cheryl."

I looked at him, his face still hiding in the shadows. But I could feel him smiling; looking at me with such hope and brightness I didn't have any freaking idea where he got it. I didn't say anything. I felt safe with him anywhere. It didn't… matter…

"Do you want some ice cream honey?" his soothing voice echoed in my head, the light scent of cologne he always wore filling my nostrils. I smiled back. "But it's raining."

"Does it matter?"

"No