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monster in the closet iii
I haven’t figured out how to tell Fergie.
I’ve thought it over time and time again, trying to find the right words, but each time I get flustered and tell him to forget about it. It’s not easy to tell your husband you think your home is being haunted. That you think your daughter is in harm's way because of your dead father. It’d make more sense if he was alive, but Walter was a f***ing ghost. He wasn’t real. And yet, even in his departure from this life, he still found ways to terrorize me. To make me fear the very sight or sound of him.
I spent a good amount of time in the shower that night after another failed attempt at bringing it up, hoping the water would wash my anxiety and fear down the drain with the suds that soap left behind. The warmth it offered left my skin red, shoulders finally relaxing after being tensed up all night. It was the first ounce of normalcy I felt since this morning when Lilah first told me about Walter.
I still didn’t understand why this was happening. When I killed him, I had hoped that meant the end of his rath. I guess I should have suspected that he’d find a way to come back and make my life a living hell.
I tried not to think about it too much, though.
I turned the water off with reluctance, wanting to savor the ounce of comfort it had offered, though I knew I couldn’t hide forever. My eyes catch a glimpse of the mirror as I pull back the curtain and I almost fall on my ass.
The words ‘I’m watching you’ are written in the steam.
It’s then, that I scream for help.
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