Stepping into the damp air of the outside, I pull my lightweight jacket tighter around my body to block the chilly air from entering.

Gray clouds were the only thing left from the recent storm that had just come through. I remember the first pitter-patter of rain turning into heavier droplets as I sat inside the house. The clashes of lighting and low rumbles of thunder only added to the gloom I had felt while still in the house. I knew right after the storm died down I would have to escape; the crushing weight of depression in that house was slowly suffocating me to death.

Headlights shimmered on the rain slicked streets.

Hoodie covering my head and my eyes trained on the ground, the streetlights were the only thing guiding my path.

A small part of me regrets not taking my mom's offer to drop me off and pick me back up, but I didn't know that it would pour as hard as it did. On the plus side, walking will help me think and clear my mind. But on the down side, my house was so far away and someone might spot me.

Now, this never bothered me before, but things were different back then and if anyone were to see me now they might not even recognize me at first. I wasn't in my usual state-of-mind. My hair has often gone undone, my makeup rarely put on- and when done, with feeble effort, I traded my thought out outfits for dingy but comfortable sweats.

It's been a downwards hill for me recently. A double whammy.

News four days ago was of Kellie's suicide while in the mental ward. Just yesterday I got wind of Ty's untimely death- also a suicide. It was hard enough to grasp the death of one friend, but two more was virtually unbearable, in fact unfathomable. Two of the three done in suicide.

I've made small but significant connections between the incidents. Kellie and Ty were there when Lester died, both ended up in suicide.

A small part of me feels anger towards Kellie and Ty. To leave me to deal with this grief, this burden all by myself, to go out the cowardly way. I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye- they didn't even say goodbye. Gone, just like that.

With all these sudden deaths and bottled up emotions, my mom tries to coax me to see a therapist, but I don't want to end up like Kellie. Locked up inside a mental institution with a group of looney tune girls who I have to sleep, eat, and talk with while forced to hear their messed up lives and listen to them whine and cry at night. No thank you.

Continuing with my connections, I've thought about how three of the five people that day are dead- two of the four witnesses dead- and it makes me wonder if some dark, mysterious force is at work. It makes no sense that both Ty and Kellie would kill themselves like that. I understand the burden of losing someone to such a tragic accident, but to just give up like that doesn't sound like something they would do. I guess you never know a person's true colors until something drastic occurs.

Still, this makes me on edge. I've never told anyone about this paranoid fear, this fear of my own untimely death- even suicide. Maybe I'm just tired and this could all just be a coincidence. Everyone would agree. Just an unfortunate chain of events.

But the fear still gnaws at me.

To distract this, I busy myself trying to comfort others. It also helps me appear to look normal and convince everyone I'm coping with this in a nondestructive way.

But even this is wearing on me.

After just coming from seeing Lester's family I already feel like falling apart.

I was so used to seeing a busy, energetic family, every time I visited the Kennett household, that it was a shock to walk into a dark and lifeless house.

Lester's father is one I remember always being busy and practically married to his work- a confident, slightly egotistical man with a warm smile- now, just a small, weak looking man who had his shoulders hunched the entire visit and could barely be heard above the rain pounding on the roof. Mrs. Kennett's always professional and to-the-point attitude was replaced with a stone cold stare out the living room window. She ignored me the entire visit, not even glancing once my way or saying a thing to me. Even the talkaholic, teeny-bopper Shelia didn't have a thing to add. A girl, who every time I visited would talk my ear off, stood in the entryway of the living room staring at the hardwood floor the entire time I was there then running off before I could say goodbye.

I cringe just thinking about the crushing feel of that visit. I don't want to go through that again- seeing the family of the person killed. The thought of having to go through that with both Kellie and Ty's families is too much.

I let my mind wander until something sudden hits me.

Daphne Rogers.

I never knew her too well, no one really did, but she enjoyed talking to Lester, or at least pestering him. But she was there when Lester died. I haven't heard anything from her since that day but I have a feeling that she's still alive. She's the only one that really understands or at least might understand the paranoid fear that I have. But I don't know where she lives and she doesn't seem to be on any social media sites. Still, I have to figure out something. Daphne might be the missing piece to the puzzle I've been trying to fit together.

"Marcy?"

I stop in my tracks.

"Uh oh." This is what I feared. Someone I know might spot me on the street and see how I've let myself go. I start walking again hoping the person who called out will give up. But I hear someone walking behind me, their feet brush against the wet pavement.

"Marcy!"

I begin to walk faster, only to hear the person behind me increase speed as well.

"Marcy! Slow down. I can't keep up."

I don't know why this stops me. I freeze in place but don't turn around, giving the pursuer time to catch up.

"Thank you." The person has to be no less than 3 feet from me. "I was starting to worry that you didn't want to see me."

There are some voices that stay in your mind forever, others that are singed into your mind.

My heart is a roller coaster right now. At first, I'm frozen with shock, then my heart soars at the thought of him being alive, but after a few minutes of exhilaration I'm plagued by the returning feeling of paranoid and fear- at an even greater level.

Still not turning around I ask, "What are you doing here Lester?"

I hope he doesn't notice the trembling in my voice as I said it.

"Trying to find you." He approaches closer to me, only leaving about a foot left between me and him; I can feel his presence behind me.

I hug myself as if I'm cold and try to calm myself down.

"What the hell are you afraid of? Quit being so paranoid, it's all in your mind."

A few seconds of silence pass between us and is only broken by a lone car whizzing by. When it passes I begin to think about what's happening. What may be happening.

"This is all in my head. This might all be in my head. I'm just going crazy- hearing things, hearing dead people."

But my theory quickly falls apart once I feel the weight of his hand on my shoulder, when I see the hand on my shoulder.

"You know who I am, right?" He asks. "It's me, Marcy. It's Lester."

"I know."

A faint, ghostly voice that I barely register as mine. I didn't know my voice was that weak.

"Then why aren't you looking at me?"

"Because I'm petrified by an irrational and unknown fear."

But nevertheless, I turn 180° to confront him.

He's still the same as when he died. Dark blue eyes, jet black hair, that charming smile I remember and loved so much. Everything, the same as when he left, it was like I was walking through 'The Twilight Zone'.

I stare into his eyes for some time, trying to figure out if I was alive or dead or both.

"It's good to finally see you again." He says.

I don't respond either out of shock or fear or just pondering my existence, but either way, I don't reply to his comment.

"You okay, Marcy? You've been acting a funny this whole time. Why are you even out here on such a dreary day? A visit to my family could've waited for another day."

I finally speak up.

"I-I just didn't want to wait any longer. And they- they seemed like they could use some lifting up on a day like this." My weak voice is again trembling like I'm unbearably cold. "Have you seen Kellie or Ty in awhile?"

"Yes."

The answer comes so matter-of-fact that I don't know what to say next, but evidently, I find the words.

"Oh. Well, did you know they died, recently?" I ask cautiously.

Crossing his arms and looking up to the sky with a faint smirk on his lips he replies, "I've heard."

We stand in silence for another few tense seconds. I begin to back away from Lester, who still studies the sky with the same pondering look.

The uneasy feeling of unknown fear and paranoid began to become overbearing and crippling at this point, all I want to do is go home and escape the crushing feeling. But Lester seems to notice me easing back.

"So, how have you been lately?"

"Uh...somewhat on edge," I tell truthfully.

Stepping closer he informs me, "We're all a little on edge, aren't we?"

As I continue to step back, he continues to close the distance between us. This only makes the feelings insufferable with each new step we take.

"Did you see either of them before they...died?

"Both of them, yes. Though it was a little hard trying to get into the mental faculty where Kellie was staying."

"Oh."

Something wasn't right.

The feelings were being to drown me and I think I might just pass out and die right here just from the force it brings.

"It was rather unfortunate that they went out the way they did. Guess you never know a person's true colors until something drastic occurs."

I'm still backing up and he's still bearing down on me. I don't even have the words to describe what I'm thinking, but the gears are turning.

He's connected to the suicides, I know he is. It's not a coincidence that both Kellie and Ty would kill themselves after seeing Lester again. If they were having the same desperate feelings I'm falling victim to, then it would even be understandable. This feeling of perfect fear and paranoid has to be caused by Lester's appearance- as it only seems to get stronger the closer he comes.

"I'm not a murderer like you think I am."

By now, I'm positive that I've been strike mute. Even if I tried to utter a word or sound no noise would come out.

"I didn't fire the trigger, I didn't jump off the platform. I'm not the bad guy here."

I could tell there was anger stirring in his tone, but I couldn't figure out why. I've done nothing to provoke him.

"You have done something, Marcy. You've done everything. Accusing me of a crime I didn't do. Jumping to conclusions before you even know the facts."

"He can read my mind!? Oh God, he can read my mind. Why is this happening to me?"

As I abruptly halt, he is only inches from my face.

The smile he once wore is replaced by a snarl, the thoughtful expression that was in his eyes now a hostile glare from two eyes the color of a perfect storm.

The few seconds that pass by seemed like hours, before he pulls away and backs up.

I still stand there, numb with fear. After a moment I take a breath. The world around me faded in that short time span but now emerges from the dark shadows of my sight.

"Well, Marcy, we seem to have gotten ourselves into a predicament." His voice is not so harsh now and he seems eerily calm.

The scenery around me is finally back in focus. I plan to bolt at once, but then I happen to glance down at my feet.

The wet street glistens under my shoes. The black asphalt darker than in its usual dry phase.

"Yes. This seems oddly familiar." He says mockingly in thought.

My heart stops. My breath catches halfway. I know the impending doom about to come my way, but my body can't even react.

"This should be a familiar scene to both of us." The expression on his face was wicked, unconcerned about the tragedy about to strike me.

I'm about to make a mad dash toward the sidewalk where he's standing, but I quickly learn out that moving maybe near impossible. Some invisible force anchors me to the street. Tears begin to escape my eyes, but I don't start screaming, even though I should. The fear is becoming an ungodly burden to bear any longer.

"Why?" Again, I'm shocked to the frailty of my voice. "Why are doing this to us? What did we ever do to hurt you, Lester? We were your friends, practically family."

"Because somebody had to pay for the life that I lost, for the pain that you brought others." He's emotionless tone nearly kills me in of itself.

I don't hear it coming, for all I can hear is the beat of my heart, but I know it's coming.

I look up tearfully one last time at the person who I saw died as my friend, now a stranger to me.

"Oh, don't cry now- it doesn't hurt at all. You barely even feel it."

That was the last thing that echoed through my ears. The twisted smile was the last sight I saw. 

Then...blackness.