After going through a couple of drawers, Brayden finds what he’s been looking for - Sammy’s camera.
He smiles, satisfied. He’d been pretty sure it was here, but now his plan is actually coming together. The only thing missing is Stella. He closes the drawer and looks around, trying to figure out if he’s messed up anything in the room. Doesn’t seem that way. Nobody will notice that he’s been here. He almost makes it to the door, before he remembers to push the buttons on the camera for a test run. Nothing happens.
“Oh come on! That’s not fair,” he exclaims, shaking the device slightly before trying the buttons again. Still nothing.
I’m still seated on the floor, with the leather jacket on my lap. Another beat, then I lift the bottle to my mouth unceremoniously and swallow some of the liquid. I remember right away why I hated whiskey. It takes exactly how I imagine horse piss would.
I make a few more attempts, but all it manages to do is burn my throat and make me a little more angry.
“Can’t believe you liked this stuff,” I shake my head resignedly and screw the cap onto the bottle again.
“And I’m talking to an empty room, well this is stupid.” It is, actually. I don’t believe in life after death or ghosts or anything like that. You’ve got this one life to live and that’s it, no doing it over. After that, your body becomes part of earth and that’s the only deal. Maybe you turn into a few pretty flowers or a tree, if you’re extra lucky.
Nobody’s soul is hanging around, looking for a chat. I can remember those ouja boards from middle school days. We all knew those couple of girls who moved the planchette and claimed it wasn’t them, barely containing their giggles. It was way too transparent.