† s H I N I G A M I †

Aly stopped in front of a semi small house, then glanced back. "Whatever you see in there...don't judge, okay? I'll still help if you want me to." Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside, closing the door. A voice grumbled from the living room, and she warily dropped her school bag, and let her hand pass through John's, walking into the room. She only had time to duck before something smashed next to her head. Her father didn't even turn around. "Clean it up. You're late." she kneeled down, picking up the sharp pieces gently, then stopped as a shadow fell over her, tensing.

 

"Gah!"

In fear, John jumped back.

"What the hell? That scared me to death."

Pausing for a moment, the spirt softly chuckled at his words. He never thought that saying would ever be funny. Then again, "Death" isn't something a kid his age should contemplate.

 

Aly looked up, surprised, then giggled softly. Starbursts of pain erupted on the right side of her face, making her roll backwards. She winced, gently feeling her face. Her cheek throbbed, and there was a small cut above her eyebrow, apparently. She looked up, her father leering above her. "Something funny?" he asked. She shook her head, quickly gathering the rest of the pieces and running to her room. She didn't need anything else.

 

Billy awoke to find the entire world dark around him, unable to move. His sense of orientation was well and truly lost; he felt as if he were upside down, with pressure steadily mounting on his head. His entire body was damp, and nothing seemed to make sense. Even the glow of the name of his arm was barely visible. He remained calm, waiting patiently, but there was a limit to how much a young child could take. After half an our of no activity, tears started to drip down his cheeks as he realised that he was stuck, quite possibly for the rest of his eternal life. Eventually his silent crying turned into loud sobs as he finally broke down with his head in a toilet, a mop handle in his side, in an dank, unused storage cupboard at the corner of the front of a classroom where a headstrong girl was handing out sheets of paper to her classmates.

 

John glared at the man, appalled by what he saw. This man, this girls father, what a disgusting creature. He wasn't even human. Such people, such things made this world intolerable. He should be punished, pushed beyond death.

 

Aly looked back. "John?..." She ignored the bleeding, surprised by the look on his face. Her father didn't look back from the TV, she prayed he didn't hear here. She stepped into her room, hoping he wouldn't get lost, then slowly closed the door.

 

The specter stayed behind, glaring at the oaf in his overstuffed, filthy chair. Silently, he walked towards the monster, his feet gliding across the disgusting floor. Hovering over his prey, John's breath grew heavy with anticipation and rage. His frozen breath misted around the father's sweaty neck.

 

Aly cringed when she heard her father yell, then stuffed herself into her closet, locking the door and curling up. Something banged agianst the door to her room, probably something thrown, then silence.

 

Glaring from above, John studied what he had done. The man was alive, unfortunatly. He had picked up a snowglobe and threw down onto the father's empty skull. His body fell to the floor limp and unconscious.

The phantom trembled. He had hurt someone. He actually took a swing at someone. Slowly he descended to the floor. In a panic he ran towards Aly's room, fear and confusion fueling his movement.

 

Aly lay in her closet, then gently leaned her head against the floor. She heard no footsteps, so pulling a blanket around her almost bare shoulders she crept across the floor, towards her room's door. "John?" she asked quietly.

 

John phased through the closed door, looking down on Aly.

"Don't worry Aly, everything is alright."

Kneeling down, he put his spertral arms around her, trying to comfort her and trying to ward of any negative thoughts.

 

Aly closed her eyes, biting her lip. He pitied her, she knew it. How could anything be alright when things were like this? "What happened?" she asked instead, her voice no louder then a murmur, her eyes still shut. She didn't want to see the look in his oddly bright eyes.

 

John stroked her hair quietly, trying to comfort her. He didn't want her to know. He didn't want her to find out what he did.

"Nothing Aly. I just made sure he stayed quiet for a little while."

 

She tensed slightly. "What does that mean?" she asked, slowly opening her eyes and looking up at him, prepared to see pity now. She would have to see it sometime, she saw it from everyone else, so why was it so hard to take from him?

 

John stood up, turning his back to Aly. She was way to aggressive with her questions. Any longer and he'd have to spill it. He didn't want to. For the love of god he didn't want to. He eyed the bed nervously. Maybe that would work.

 

Aly watched him, slightly nervous, but mostly calm. He couldn't really touch her, coudln't really hurt her. "John...if you don't want to answer, you don't have to, but.....you seem..." she was hesitant.