Haunted - Sunny Wolfe Page 0,14

of the room and went to the kitchen to get my cell phone.

Shit!

It was on my nightstand. Fuck! I crawled back to my room to get it. When I entered the bedroom, I looked toward my bed. The monkey was lying on the bed instead of a doll.

What the fuck?

It was all in my mind. Was I going crazy? I knew the doctor at the hospital said that I would probably suffer from Post-traumatic stress disorder. Was it a nightmare? I stood on shaky legs and sat on the bed, feeling terrified. I looked under the covers. Nothing. I picked up the monkey and held it to me. Then I picked up my phone and dialed.

“Phoebe, I need you to come over and take this blue out of my hair. Can you do that?”

“Sure, sweetie, it’s Sunday, so I will need to wait until one p.m. for the beauty supply to open. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s going on? You seem more…antsy.”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I just think I need to get this blue out. We can cut it all off if it would be easier.”

“No. When people cut their hair short in a hasty rush, they usually regret it. I can get the blue out and make it really close to your natural color. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I will be there around two p.m., and I’ll even swing by and grab us some burgers.”

“Thanks.” I hung up. I took my monkey and went into the living room.

Chapter 7 – Beth

Three more days had passed since Phoebe fixed my hair. I had started feeling a little bit better. I turned on the sound system in the den and found the song “The After You” by Miakoda. My eyes immediately teared up. It was about a woman singing about how she was living in the aftermath of her lover leaving her. I backed up against the wall and slid to the floor. I pushed the repeat button from the remote. I listen to the words. I hugged myself hard and tears rolled down my face. I released a loud sob that reminded me of when I received the call about Joe. I hadn’t cried this hard since that horrible phone call.

The music continued to play and a slide show played in my mind of my time with Roman. The first time he smiled at me, when we leg wrestled in the basement when we were bored out of our minds. How when he would kiss me, his hands would reach out to touch my face. I remembered how he would come up behind me and start kissing me on the back of my neck. Why did I let him go? I wished I could call him and tell him I’d made a terrible mistake. I cried harder. I let myself cry it out because crying was a way of healing, letting out all the pain, so I could start to heal. I sat there for forty-five minutes before the tears dried.

The doorbell rang and I stood up off the floor to answer it. Phoebe stood on the porch.

“Hey…”

“Hey.” She eyed me.

We walked back to the couch and sat down.

“Beth, what have you been doing?” She asked me.

“Thinking.” I spoke in a low voice.

“About?” Her hands made questioning motions.

“Ghosts…” A tear rolled down my face. Huh, guess I had one left. I thought I’d used them up.

“Why are you thinking of ghosts?” She looked me in the eyes.

“Phoebe, that’s what ghosts do…they haunt you.”

She paused and patted her lap.

“Come here and lay on my lap so I can stroke your hair.”

Didn’t have to tell me twice. I loved getting my hair stroked and no one had done it since the last time Eric did. I laid my head on her lap, and she talked to me.

“Beth, I know you have had it hard, harder than most of us. You, my friend, have some shitty luck. Your parents, Joe, the kidnapping, rapes, and your problems with Joey. But you are a strong woman. I have seen it over the years. Frankly, you amaze me sometimes.”

“Sometimes I want to disappear,” I whispered.

“But you can’t. We all have shit happen in our lives. You’re not the only one who wants to disappear sometimes, you know. We have a pity party for a couple of days and then we get the fuck up and move on.”

I rolled onto my back and looked up at her. Phoebe wiped the tears that rolled down my face.

“Beth, it’s time for you to get the fuck

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