Is Aaron back from the dead in Unhinged Part IV?
Is Aaron back from the dead, or is Jen losing her mind? Unhinged part IV reveals a darkness that Jennifer can't hide from.
Unhinged Part IV
Image copyright M. Gwynn (Lake Amistad) Chapter 3
That evening, I had a visitor. It was a Detective James Monroe. He was investigating a missing person's report on Aaron. My name was written on the notepad next to his phone with about ten other names and addresses. His crazy Aunt Maggie had filed the report yesterday after repeated attempts to reach him by phone, and also knocking on his door. Seems he missed a Sunday dinner at her house without a phone call and she got worried. I let the detective in, offered him some coffee which he declined, and then calmly answered his question. No, hadn't seen Aaron in over a week (which was true). Yes, we dated. No, we hadn't had any fights and no, we weren't seeing each other anymore. Yes, it was a recent break up. Told him I had broken it off so it wouldn't seem like I had a grudge. Hell, Aaron wasn't around to contradict me anyway, and in a sense, I did actually end it. The detective thanked me for my time, gave me his card and asked me to call him if I heard from Aaron. I said okay and walked him out. I guess Tuesday is police investigation day.Other than that, my evening was rather quiet. I was actually bored. I looked out at the lake from my kitchen window. It was calm. The sun was setting. It really looked beautiful. I went to the pantry and pulled out a package of spaghetti noodles and a jar of Ragu. Then I put a package of Hamburger in the microwave to defrost. Spaghetti sounded good today. I pulled a red wine out of the rack and popped the cork. Pouring out a substantial glass, I thought about the changes in myself and my life recently. I was pretty happy about it. After about three glasses the Spaghetti was ready to eat and I was downright ecstatic. On my fourth glass, I realized I was drunk. Hell, I'm a real lightweight with alcohol. I hiccupped, laughed, and then looked around my kitchen. I downed a fifth glass and walked (stumbled) down the hall to my room. I went to the bathroom to pee, sat on the toilet seat, looked up and nearly shit! Aaron stood before me in the doorway dripping wet! Fuck! I screamed and passed out on the pot.I woke up with a bump on my head and my panties around my ankles. I was slumped between the toilet and the wall and I couldn't orient myself right away. Then I remembered! I turned my head and the world spun a little. I didn't see anyone standing in the door. I cleaned myself up carefully, felt the bump on my head and then stood up and pulled my panties back into place. I leaned over the sink, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like shit. I turned on the cold water and splashed my face. When I turned to grab a towel to wipe off the water, I saw them on the floor. Holy fucking shit! Muddy foot prints. I forgot to breathe.Slowly, very slowly, I walked out of the bathroom and looked down the hall. Nothing. I stepped around the footprints and kept my back to the hallway wall as I slunk quietly towards the living room. I kept looking behind me also. I reached the living room and peered all around. There was a heavy, silver candle holder on the hall table. I picked it up and hefted it in my hand. I applied a firm grip and tip-toed to the kitchen. The door to the patio was open. I walked to it, closed the glass, and slid the lock home. Then I looked out on the deck. I didn't see anything. I made the rounds quickly throughout the whole house, and made sure all doors and windows were locked, and that no boogey man was under my bed or in my closet. I was scared shitless, and just a little pissed off. If Aaron was alive and fucking with me then I was really going to kill him. But he was dead! I know this because he wasn't breathing and didn't have a pulse when I rolled him in hefty bags and sent his weighted ass to the bottom of the lake. There was no way he could have come back from the dead. Was there? Hell no, there wasn't. It must have just been some random intruder, someone who resembled Aaron, and was scared when he discovered me home. Hell, he could have harmed me but didn't. Must have been some kid that was out to just get what he could, and my drunken ass thought it was Aaron. Maybe I had a guilty conscience after all. I was still shaking when I realized suddenly that I was crying. I leaned against the wall for support as my whole body shook with sobs. I felt so much fear swamping me, and I didn’t have anyone to turn to. Aaron had been my world for so long. He had been there when my parents died in the auto wreck that injured my back earlier this year. Mom, Dad, and I were on our way to a family wedding when a drunk driver, going the wrong way on the road, slammed into my Dad’s Toyota Camry killing him and my Mom instantly. I walked away with minor injuries that included some cracked ribs, a broken finger, a sprained lumbar disc, and whiplash. I grieved for months, and although an asshole most of the time, Aaron had been there for me when no one else was, and now he was dead. I killed him for all his abuse before and after the death of my parents. I killed him for hurting my heart, my pride, and for making me love him all the same. It was during my recovery that the headaches had begun. Sometimes I lost whole days during those headaches. And now, he was trying to haunt me for killing him. Instead of being some kind of benevolent ghost, he was just causing me more pain and heartache, and it scared me - and really pissed me off. My anger started to override my grief and my tears dried. I stood there staring at the wall and composed myself. I cleaned up the mud the intruder tracked in and made one more round, checking locks before I went to bed. Just to be on the safe side, I pulled out my 9mm and, with the safety on, put her under my pillow. Just in case. Thinking that I should never drink again, I fell asleep with the light on. At two a.m., the phone rang. I reached out to pick up the handset and clicked answer. "Hello?" No answer, just some breathing. "Hello! Goddammit, who is this?" Click. The call ended. I looked at the handset, then looked at the caller I.D. I nearly fell off the bed when I read AARON DANIELS 555-4556. No fucking way! It can't be. Someone must have his cell, I was thinking. But wait, he's never without his cell. I'm sure it must have been on his body when I dumped it; reasonably sure. Or maybe it was in his car. Yeah, that must be it. Probably in his car when I left it parked downtown. There was no way it could have been him. But it was pissing me off. I put the phone down and tried to go back to sleep. I hugged my pillow, and kept my hand firmly on my 9 mm. Tomorrow better be a better day! If someone was messing with me, they surely didn't know who they were messing with!
Stay tuned for next week's installment of Unhinged.
Check out the first three chapters here.
Unhinged Part IV
Image copyright M. Gwynn (Lake Amistad) Chapter 3That evening, I had a visitor. It was a Detective James Monroe. He was investigating a missing person's report on Aaron. My name was written on the notepad next to his phone with about ten other names and addresses. His crazy Aunt Maggie had filed the report yesterday after repeated attempts to reach him by phone, and also knocking on his door. Seems he missed a Sunday dinner at her house without a phone call and she got worried. I let the detective in, offered him some coffee which he declined, and then calmly answered his question. No, hadn't seen Aaron in over a week (which was true). Yes, we dated. No, we hadn't had any fights and no, we weren't seeing each other anymore. Yes, it was a recent break up. Told him I had broken it off so it wouldn't seem like I had a grudge. Hell, Aaron wasn't around to contradict me anyway, and in a sense, I did actually end it. The detective thanked me for my time, gave me his card and asked me to call him if I heard from Aaron. I said okay and walked him out. I guess Tuesday is police investigation day.Other than that, my evening was rather quiet. I was actually bored. I looked out at the lake from my kitchen window. It was calm. The sun was setting. It really looked beautiful. I went to the pantry and pulled out a package of spaghetti noodles and a jar of Ragu. Then I put a package of Hamburger in the microwave to defrost. Spaghetti sounded good today. I pulled a red wine out of the rack and popped the cork. Pouring out a substantial glass, I thought about the changes in myself and my life recently. I was pretty happy about it. After about three glasses the Spaghetti was ready to eat and I was downright ecstatic. On my fourth glass, I realized I was drunk. Hell, I'm a real lightweight with alcohol. I hiccupped, laughed, and then looked around my kitchen. I downed a fifth glass and walked (stumbled) down the hall to my room. I went to the bathroom to pee, sat on the toilet seat, looked up and nearly shit! Aaron stood before me in the doorway dripping wet! Fuck! I screamed and passed out on the pot.I woke up with a bump on my head and my panties around my ankles. I was slumped between the toilet and the wall and I couldn't orient myself right away. Then I remembered! I turned my head and the world spun a little. I didn't see anyone standing in the door. I cleaned myself up carefully, felt the bump on my head and then stood up and pulled my panties back into place. I leaned over the sink, and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like shit. I turned on the cold water and splashed my face. When I turned to grab a towel to wipe off the water, I saw them on the floor. Holy fucking shit! Muddy foot prints. I forgot to breathe.Slowly, very slowly, I walked out of the bathroom and looked down the hall. Nothing. I stepped around the footprints and kept my back to the hallway wall as I slunk quietly towards the living room. I kept looking behind me also. I reached the living room and peered all around. There was a heavy, silver candle holder on the hall table. I picked it up and hefted it in my hand. I applied a firm grip and tip-toed to the kitchen. The door to the patio was open. I walked to it, closed the glass, and slid the lock home. Then I looked out on the deck. I didn't see anything. I made the rounds quickly throughout the whole house, and made sure all doors and windows were locked, and that no boogey man was under my bed or in my closet. I was scared shitless, and just a little pissed off. If Aaron was alive and fucking with me then I was really going to kill him. But he was dead! I know this because he wasn't breathing and didn't have a pulse when I rolled him in hefty bags and sent his weighted ass to the bottom of the lake. There was no way he could have come back from the dead. Was there? Hell no, there wasn't. It must have just been some random intruder, someone who resembled Aaron, and was scared when he discovered me home. Hell, he could have harmed me but didn't. Must have been some kid that was out to just get what he could, and my drunken ass thought it was Aaron. Maybe I had a guilty conscience after all. I was still shaking when I realized suddenly that I was crying. I leaned against the wall for support as my whole body shook with sobs. I felt so much fear swamping me, and I didn’t have anyone to turn to. Aaron had been my world for so long. He had been there when my parents died in the auto wreck that injured my back earlier this year. Mom, Dad, and I were on our way to a family wedding when a drunk driver, going the wrong way on the road, slammed into my Dad’s Toyota Camry killing him and my Mom instantly. I walked away with minor injuries that included some cracked ribs, a broken finger, a sprained lumbar disc, and whiplash. I grieved for months, and although an asshole most of the time, Aaron had been there for me when no one else was, and now he was dead. I killed him for all his abuse before and after the death of my parents. I killed him for hurting my heart, my pride, and for making me love him all the same. It was during my recovery that the headaches had begun. Sometimes I lost whole days during those headaches. And now, he was trying to haunt me for killing him. Instead of being some kind of benevolent ghost, he was just causing me more pain and heartache, and it scared me - and really pissed me off. My anger started to override my grief and my tears dried. I stood there staring at the wall and composed myself. I cleaned up the mud the intruder tracked in and made one more round, checking locks before I went to bed. Just to be on the safe side, I pulled out my 9mm and, with the safety on, put her under my pillow. Just in case. Thinking that I should never drink again, I fell asleep with the light on. At two a.m., the phone rang. I reached out to pick up the handset and clicked answer. "Hello?" No answer, just some breathing. "Hello! Goddammit, who is this?" Click. The call ended. I looked at the handset, then looked at the caller I.D. I nearly fell off the bed when I read AARON DANIELS 555-4556. No fucking way! It can't be. Someone must have his cell, I was thinking. But wait, he's never without his cell. I'm sure it must have been on his body when I dumped it; reasonably sure. Or maybe it was in his car. Yeah, that must be it. Probably in his car when I left it parked downtown. There was no way it could have been him. But it was pissing me off. I put the phone down and tried to go back to sleep. I hugged my pillow, and kept my hand firmly on my 9 mm. Tomorrow better be a better day! If someone was messing with me, they surely didn't know who they were messing with!
Stay tuned for next week's installment of Unhinged.
Check out the first three chapters here.
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