Witchy Flash Fiction Monday

I’m gearing up for NaNoWrMo in November and am doing some flash fiction writing to warm my mind up. Hope you all enjoy what comes your way.

Julia

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Unedited Flash Fiction Scene

Paranormal Romance

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Was Jacob really causing all the havoc around town? Couldn’t be. It wasn’t in his nature. He was a sweet, caring, loving, kind, giving man. He ensured that everyone within two miles of their home had a meal every day. He gave money to the ones he could, and sent the others in the direction of neighbors who would give them work. There was no way he caused people to commit such crimes.

“What’s wrong dear?”

Soft, caring. No way a person with such a tender tone caused his friends and neighbors to dig up graves.

Feather like wind swept across her face as his hand brush over her cheek. “Who has upset you?”

How did she answer that? What if her theory was wrong? It would upset him to think his love of his life feared his actions. Then again . . . she knew he wouldn’t lie to her if she outright asked him. Or . . . he wouldn’t have. Who knew what a ghost would do? She’d never spoken to one before. Never seen one before. Hadn’t even believed in them until Jacob showed up in her bedroom six days after his car was ran off the cliff.

“Come on, sweetie. Tell me what has you upset. I’ll take care of you. You know that.”

That’s the problem. Wasn’t it? She didn’t know what he . . . his ghost would do. People had nevre gone around digging up graves until Jacob’s ghost showed up. None of their friends were the kind to spend their night in the middle of a cementary, getting their hands covered in dirt.

“Come on, sweethearet. Tell me, so I can fix it.”

“How?”

“How?”

“yes. How will you fix it?”

Jacob’s ghost scratched his head. “Like I always did.”

“Talk to them?”

“Yes. It always works.”

“Then talk to yourself.”

“I’ve upset you?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“You been having your friends dig up graves.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then why did they start doing so?”

“I’m not sure, but I would never . . .”

“You wouldn’t have when you was alive.”

“Alive? What are you going on about?” Jacob’s ghost floated forward, and right through her. “What in the . . . How . . .” He looked back at her, then floated through her again. “There is no way . . .”

“Jacob?” A soft tender tone flowed up the hallway.

What was Janell doing there? She never came to town. Not even for her brother’s funeral. She did not agree with their marriage and refused to be around her. It was why they always went to their family holiday gatherings separate.

“You okay, Bro?”

“What are you . . .”

“You could at least say hello.” Jacob’s sharpness shocked her as much as Janell standing in the middle of their bedroom, resting a hand on her brother’s shoulder.

“Say hello to who.”

“My wife. I know you don’t - -“

“Jacob, dear, you know she’s no longer with us.”

“She’s standing right there.” His hands flew toward her, as his sister followed the path of his outstretched hand.

“There’s no one there.”

“Yes, there is, but she’s . . . She thinks I’m . . . I went through her body. I couldn’t touch her.” He stared down at his hands, shaking his head.

“Jacob, what is going on?”

“I’m not sure.” He looked at his sister. “Why are you ignoing her?”

“There’s no one here for me to ignore.”

“There is.” He came towards me and went to wrap his arms around me, but onces again . . .

“Come on, let’s get you into bed for the night. You’ve had a hard day.”

“Why am I unable to hold her? It makes no sense. She’s right there Sis. I can see here.”

“I am sure you can, but you know . . . In here,” she patted his chest, “that Cara died a week ago.”

“I did not.” She moved to stand beside her husband. “She’s lying. I know she hated me, but why would she tell you I’m dead.”

“You know the car exploded when the tanker truck ran the red light.”

There was no . . . her hands flew to her head, gripping it as pain shattered her mind into a million red flares. The light at the drug store had turned green. She’s just started under it when . . . metal creaked and clanked as it caved in on her. Heat swarmed up the dash, consuming the oxygen inside the car. Her hand went to the seatbelt, but it refused to release. Sirens could be heard in the background, but . . . “There was no time for them to get to me.” She dropped to her knees, reaching out for her husnbad. “I tried to get out.”

“She tried to get out.” Jacob rolled onto his side and pulled her pillow into his face.

“I’m sure she did.” His sister patted his shoulder and pulled the blanket over him. “I’m sure she did.”

What was she going to do? She was dead. Jacob was alive. Suffering. Was she making it worse for him? Was she the one digging up the graves? Didn’t matter who was. She had to find a way to ease her husband’s pain. He suffered. They had not been a part in over ten years. They’d been inseperatable for five years before then. High School sweethearts. Chosen most likely to marry and have a hoard of children. They had married, but she’d never been able to give him a son, or daughter. There was no time left for that. She had left him. Not by choice, but . . . It was her choice to do so this time. If she was dead and he kept seeing her ghost then he would never move on. She could not make him suffer like that. Nope. Her Jacob deserved a happy life.

She knelt beside him and feathered his hair back, kissing his cheek softly. “I love you, my dear. Always have. Always will. Rest. Heal. Move on with your life.” She took one more kiss and then faded from the room, leaving her living life behind her.