All That We See, and All That We Seem...

The peaceful breeze swept through the streets. Although the usual bustle of the typical neighborhood street was eerily absent, Kyle walked quickly toward his best friend’s house. His collar turned up against the beginning chill of the evening, he muttered to himself. The doors of a few houses he passed were open, darkness within beckoning him. He quickened his pace as he reached 323 Garden Street. 

Kyle knocked, but there was no answer. He hadn’t really expected one. The door was unlocked, and he went in without hesitation. Sidestepping the creaky floorboard, he went for the stairs, taking them two at a time. On the second floor landing, he stood for a moment, lost in thought. Jake had been his best friend since preschool. 

The door to Jake’s room was slightly ajar, and Kyle pushed it all the way open. Everything was just as he remembered it, but Jake wasn’t there. He walked around the room, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Behind him, the electric hum of the computer switching on was like a sonic boom in the unnatural silence. Kyle spun around, eyes wide. The screen remained black, but a green cursor blinked steadily. He rushed over and slid the keyboard toward him, typing quickly. 

IS ANYONE THERE? 

He waited, holding his breath, hoping that someone would answer. Just when he was ready to give up and leave, a reply appeared 

WE’RE ALWAYS HERE, KYLE. YOU KNOW THAT ALREADY. 

A chill ran down his spine as he read. There it was, his worst fears in writing. Shoving away from the computer, he ran from the room and back toward his own house. With the fading daylight he sat in his darkening room. It had been 3 days since he woke up and found that everyone was gone. At times, he could swear he heard the bustling sounds of life coming from downstairs, could even hear his mother’s voice, but as soon as he rushed down to investigate, it would stop. Sorting through his terrified thoughts, he settled into an uneasy sleep. 

The dingy white walls surrounded him. Broken springs pressed into his back and scraped through the thin material of his plain white t-shirt. He sat up as the lock clicked and the door swung open. A man, barefoot, wearing simple black pants and a red t-shirt stood in the doorway. He looked at Kyle with dark grey eyes through a curtain of clean but messy brown hair. 

"Well, are you ready to deal with this, or are we going to keep dancing to the same old tune?" he lazily inquired.

Kyle woke with a start, nearly falling from his bed. He’d been having the same nightmare every night. It was unnerving at best. 

Today, he went to his high school. Before the whole world had disappeared, he’d been a senior. His steps echoed in the familiar halls, and he wished he would wake up and find this was all one really bad dream.

He walked into his old homeroom, and went to his desk. Sitting there, he thought about how he missed her, Laura, his girlfriend. She’d sat in front of him and Jake had sat beside him. Kyle whispered her name before leaving with a sigh. 

After wandering around all day searching for anyone else that remained, he headed home hopelessly. Getting into bed, he lay awake for a while looking at the ceiling. At least in the zombie movies there were other things out there. This cold isolation was worse than anything he could have imagined. 

Before he could rub the sleep from his eyes and sit up, a hand drug him roughly from the bed. “When the bloody hell will you learn?” the man asked angrily. He pressed Kyle against the wall, his eyes demanding an answer.

"I..I don’t know what you’re talking about," Kyle moaned. "Why do I keep having this dream?!" 

"I’ve had enough of this. You’re coming with me," he said, shoving him out of the room. 

As he followed the mysterious individual down the narrow corridor, he wondered why he kept having these insane dreams. A heavy looking metal door at the end of the hall swung open with a light push from the man. “Go on and look through that mirror. You need to see what you’re doing to them,” he gestured toward the old scarred mirror hanging on the wall opposite the door. 

Kyle glanced at him suspiciously and stepped toward the mirror. His reflection was blurry and stretched, and as he got closer, it cleared  but didn’t reflect him. In it’s depths, he saw his mother sitting on the couch crying. His dad had an arm around her and was whispering softly to her. As if it knew he wanted to hear what they were saying, the voices suddenly became louder.

"…I know you miss him. I miss him too, but he’s not haunting us. There’s no such thing as ghosts," his father said.

"You don’t understand. You’re gone to work, and I’m here. I can feel him in the room. Sometimes I can hear him calling me," she sobbed.

The image swirled and faded, when it cleared again it was Laura. She was sitting in the park with Jake. Her arm was in a sling and there was a cut on her cheek. Silent tears ran down her face. “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. I heard it and so did you. Kyle was there. He said my name,” she insisted.

"I heard it. Look, I wasn’t going to mention it, but yesterday, I got a message from him on my computer. I thought I was going crazy, so I didn’t say anything, but I know it was him. He’s haunting us. We survived and he didn’t and now he’s haunting us," said Jake.

The image of them faded as he turned to face the man at the door. “Who are you?” Kyle asked, his voice steadier than he’d thought it would be.

"You may call me Charon. I think it’s high time we complete your journey. You’re long overdue."

Kyle sat in the boat looking out over the still, dark water. Outside the circle of lantern light, the darkness was absolute. A low fog seemed to hover over the water.  

"Why did I dream about it? About being home but everyone was gone?" Kyle asked.

"You weren’t dreaming. You were going back, but the dead can never truly go back. They loved you so they can sense you there. You were haunting them," Charon answered stoically. 

With that, the darkness closed around them, and Kyle was himself no more.