One Bloody Thing After Another by Joey Comeau

Jackie asks.
    The doctor looks from Jackie to her dad, who is standing beside the bed. Who has been there the whole time.
    a

52
    Martha Richards sits on the edge of the bed, with the photograph of her daughter in her hands. They haven’t come in a long time, Charles and his dog. The first day without them was the hardest. She waited all afternoon for them to come. She was too nervous to eat. She even forgot her afternoon pill.
    Her daughter Elizabeth was so beautiful. But the fair ride had malfunctioned, lifting her daughter just slightly too high. A head’s length too high. The policeman had told her only what she needed to know. Her daughter was dead. A freak accident.
    She shouldn’t have let Elizabeth go. She shouldn’t have let her go out that day. It was just so nice to have the house to herself for an afternoon. Martha Richards understands that there was no way she could have known. Counselors have told her that. Her husband told her. But Elizabeth is gone. And if she hadn’t let her go to the fair that day, her daughter would still be here.
    Now, decades later, there was Charlie, showing up every day. And Elizabeth was trying to let Martha know that there was another world after this one. They would be together again some day. That had to be it. It was her daughter. It had to be. Elizabeth.
    Every day, when Charlie came knocking, Martha had wanted to cry and to fall to her knees, because she was scared. She was afraid that he was lying. She was afraid that this was some kind of trick. That he knew, somehow, what had happened, and he was tormenting her.
    And worse, what if it wasn’t a trick? What if her daughter really was there, in the hallway every day, and Martha admitted that she believed him, and then the message was delivered? What if that was all, and Charlie stopped seeing her spirit? Her daughter would go away, having delivered her message, and Martha would be alone again.
    There was only one way she could deal with it. She had to pretend she didn’t believe. Pretend she didn’t understand. And every day Charlie would come back with his dog, standing on the left side of the door, always careful to leave space for her invisible daughter. Elizabeth. And Martha could almost feel her there. She could. That was as close to having her daughter back as she’d ever been.
    But Charlie and his dog hadn’t come for a month now.
    better
53
    When Charlie opens his eyes at three a.m. the soundless mouth is right there, inches from his own face, the lips moving, the eyes staring. Charlie shoves himself back against the wall, and reaches out for Mitchie at the foot of the bed, but Mitchie isn’t there. Mitchie’s gone. Charlie is alone with that headless thing.
    You don’t get used to a headless monstrosity.
    â€œWhat do you want?” Charlie says, and the thing moves its lips uselessly.
    So Charlie calls Julia, sitting with his chair facing the corner, so he doesn’t have to look at that face, opening and closing its mouth like a fish. But Julia is no help, either.
    â€œShe needs you, Dad,” Julia says. “She has unfinished business in this world.”
    â€œWhat is the matter with you?” Charlie asks his daughter. “Any sane person would have told me to go to the doctor. I’m seeing a headless apparition every day. Maybe my medications are conflicting. You should see the list of side effects on this stuff.”
    â€œHeadless ghosts?” Julia says. “Is that a side effect?”
    â€œMy sole companion is gone,” Charlie says. “My best friend. And now I’m seeing the apparition more often? You don’t think those two things are connected? You don’t think maybe I’ve started to lose my grip? Maybe I need even more medication. Maybe I need help.”
    â€œNo, she’s the one who needs help, Dad. She needs someone to speak for her. She needs revenge.”
    â€œI wish Mitchie were here,” Charlie