Walking Ghost Phase Read Online Free PDF Page B

curious eyes of people who still held onto t heir homes peered at her from behind windows. Unfamiliar cars sped by, and unrecognizable names decorated mailboxes. A few miles later, she would arrive at the turnaround point of her walks. The particular house always marked that point. Something about it compelled her mind, beckoned her to take a closer look.
    Grass had grown above the top of the chain link fence, dangling over the sidewalk. Dirt stains blotted the white vinyl in patches of brown and red. Still, a mental image passed before her eyes—freshly cut grass, glossy windows and a pure-white exterior—but when she walked around the side, she found the same neglectful overgrowth in the backyard. Throughout her trespass, the interior lights never sparked to life. Movement never flickered from inside the windows. Someone had apparently abandoned the house and not placed it in the clutches of Jack McDonald. But it seemed like such a nice place. Cozy even. After her visit, she would head straight home, her memories still as fragmented as the day before.
    Emily looked at her mother and curled her sore toes under her feet. “I think I'll stay inside. I doubt one more walk will do any good.”
    Her mother smiled.
    Emily patted the folded letter. “But since it's my last day here, can you finally tell me about the rundown house? I swear someone I knew lived there.”
    “ Honey, we repeat this conversation after every time you visit that house.”
    They had. The military sent along a brochure of guidelines for her mental well-being and safety. Parents and Guardians rule number one sucked the most. Do not volunteer any lost information. The military reasoned that the stress of not remembering something was healthier for the mind than being told and still not remembering. “Yeah, but—”
    “ I've cried myself to sleep because my little girl is suffering with a broken mind, but those doctors gave me specific instructions. Yes, I agree with you. Those rules might seem unbelievable but so does the sight of my child alive and sitting here in front of me after a doctor said she would die in a week. This entire time, I've never lied to you. Everything you asked, I either told you I didn't know or I said I couldn't talk about it.”
    Emily sighed. “I just want to fill in some of these blanks. After I woke up the other morning, I spent an hour wondering if Dad liked the lawn mower you bought him. That was twelve years ago. Twelve years, Mom. I keep a damn teddy bear on my dresser to remind me he is dead, but I still expect him to come home each night. And I haven't had a single visitor in three months. No one has called for me. Was I a social outcast or something? Where are my friends? Did I even have any?”
    “ You did. They loved you very much.”
    “ Loved, as in past tense? Are they dead? Did they die in the attack?”
    Her mother gazed through the window, not answering.
    “You can tell me that, can't you?”
    Her mother 's lips creased into a slight smile. It was a hint Emily doubted she could forget even if she underwent a dozen more treatments. The conversation was over. No ifs, ands or buts unless Emily wanted to find herself sentenced to her room for the day. Wait , she thought. I'm not fourteen. She can't ground me.
    Then her mother chuckled as she looked outside. On the other side of the street, a recreational vehicle, off-white with Holstein spots of brown rust, idled in front of the neighborhood park, beneath the outstretched branches of a large oak tree. “We haven't had guests at the park in awhile,” her mother said.
    Emily huffed. Way to change the subject . Still, she also stared; her mother was right. Before Washington, families traveled from miles around to visit the humble patch of grass and picnic tables. Now the foot-high overgrowth buried any semblance of a place where children once laughed and played, where her father had pushed her in the swings every Sunday after church.
    Her mother tapped the