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Inbox 2 Nathan Weaver
Daniel sits at his computer. He’s grown bored. It’s the long wait. The long wait just before the feast. The cooking. Well, at least that’s what it is for the guys. Most college guys would be watching the game, but not Daniel. He hates football.
“No, not a forward. I thought you were above that, my foreign friend.”
Daniel opens the E-mail message.
It reads, "John Jones had wealth, a ranch, a loving wife and anything he could ever want. But, when the Civil War came knocking on his door, he answered the call of the South. His wife, Kathleen, would wait every day for her husband by watching out their second floor window. She'd sit in her chair, gazing up the drive, waiting for his return. The war ended, but John never came home. She began to worry as the days passed by. She thought she knew her John, she thought his love was untouched. She believed in John. She loved John. He had said he was okay with it. He had said he loved her. It was all planned, it was understood. What went wrong? Where was John Jones? Some say, if you stand and look near the window you can see her spirit waiting for her love. Attached is a picture, this is real now, no trick photography. If you concentrate on the chair near the window, you will see the form of a lady, dressed in white. This is thought to be the spirit of Kathleen Jones. Your eyes will not believe what they see."
Enter Meg.
“Nerd. I can’t believe you’re my brother.”
“Has mom finished burning the turkey yet?” Daniel asks.
“The smoke has officially made its way to the living room,” she starts, “So, yes.”
“I can’t wait,” Daniel replies sarcastically.
“Why didn’t your boyfriend come?” she asks.
“It’s called a roommate, Meg.”
“You guys do everything together and you don’t watch football with dad and Jake. What am I suppose to think?”
“I hate your boyfriend more than football and I’m not gay. So, is it good enough to eat or what?”
“It’ll never be that, but sure,” Meg finishes and shuts the door behind her.
Daniel looks at his E-mail and whispers, “Lucky.” With that he disconnects from the Internet and leaves the room.
Two hours and a thousand awkward moments later, Daniel reenters the room and sits at the computer. It’s his old bedroom, which has been turned into a study. The study consists of a computer desk, computer, two chairs, three bookshelves, and a lousy connection. Last, but not least, a very uncomfortable futon serves as his bed on visits and in between semesters.
On the other hand, Meg’s room is perfectly intact. His parents always did like her better. But, he had grown accustomed to the idea and had given up at complaining about it. On visits he usually spends most of his time on the computer talking to his friends, expressing how he would rather be back at school.
Alright, I’ll look at your picture, he thinks to himself. He has reopened the forward, the taste of pumpkin pie still lingering in his mouth.
Even though I know it’s gonna scare me to death.
He clicks the link, the picture opens.
Daniel does not focus his attention on the chair, he knows what to expect.
Wait for it… wait for it.
Nothing.
He waits some more.
After a couple of minutes, he realizes that whatever it was that was suppose to happen must have failed to operate.
Ooh… ya got me.
Daniel closes the picture, and then shuts the computer off. He grabs his duffel bag and walks out to the bathroom. In the bathroom, he pulls a toothbrush and some toothpaste from his bag. He begins brushing his teeth, he leans over and spits a mouthful into the sink, he lifts his head up, Kathleen is in the mirror, she reaches towards him with her arms. He jumps back a step, his left foot gets caught in the duffel bag and he falls to the floor.
From the floor he sees only the roof in the reflection of the mirror. He slowly rises and stands to his feet, the whole time watching the mirror. She is gone. He turns and looks around the bathroom, nothing or no one.
He continues to brush his teeth a little more and then spits in the sink. As he looks into the sink, he sees toothpaste, spit and blood. Blood continues to keep dripping into the sink. He slowly raises his head and looks in the mirror; he is bleeding from inside the mouth.
Daniel begins shoveling water into his mouth with his hand, rinsing it around with his tongue and spitting it out. After the third repetition of this, he begins to choke and cough. The coughing is so hard he grabs onto the sink with both his hands, this gives him a little bit of strength to stand as he coughs. He looks at the mirror blood now runs from his lips to his chin. He coughs again and something that was lodged from his throat hits the mirror and falls into the sink, it rolls around and stops as it hits the plug. He looks into the sink.
A ring.
He picks it up from the sink and begins to analyze it. On the inside of the ring is an engraving.
My darling John – Love, Kathleen – 1859.
Daniel remembers the names and it scares him that he has no explanation. He throws the ring in the toilet and flushes it. The ring rushes out into the pipes with the water. He slams the toilet lid down and sits on it and ponders the thought.
Still no explanation.
Upset, he grabs his duffel bag and changes his clothes as quickly as he can. Like most of us, when we can’t explain something, we rush to bed and shut those eyes and know that our mind is just messing with us. “Tomorrow morning I will be fine,” is what we tell ourselves.
I’ll be fine tomorrow, Daniel tells himself as he leaves the bathroom and returns to the study. In the study, he gets on the futon and attempts to go to sleep as quick possible.
With his eyes closed, Kathleen’s image continues to haunt him.
Knock it off.
As he tries to forget the image, he feels a cold hand caress his hand. He almost opens his eyes, but stops.
It was just a breeze.
His hand still feels the cold presence.
It’ll go away.
It remains.
There’s nothing there.
“Welcome home,” a soft voice speaks with a southern accent.
He opens his eyes.
THE END
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