Page 23 of Come Out, Come Out

November 29th, 2020 – The Next Morning

As I follow the moving truck out of the driveway, I can’t help but watch the house in the rearview mirror until it’s out of view. It feels like I’m leaving a piece of myself back there and I can’t explain why, only that there’s a tether pulled taught that’s going to snap. And when it does, it’ll rip out a chunk of me that it’ll keep there forever.

I remind myself that this is for the best, that the house wasn’t safe to live in anymore. A wayward thought in the back of my mind chimes in, saying that we misjudged that house and the spirit that came with it. The words “I won’t hurt you” in foggy silhouette play on a loop.

I want to convince myself that it was just manipulating me, but I know that’s not the truth. It defies all reason, but I justknow. It might be totally irrational, though it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been accused of that and it won’t be the last. The confines of what’s normal and acceptable never had much bearing on me. With a disdain for most other humans, I had always wished there was more and never shied away from the idea of embracing whatever else was out there. I’d gone down enough rabbit holes online over the years that my mind was pretty wide open to the possibilities of all sorts of paranormal phenomena. How could people really believe that it was just us here? No lingering souls, no beings from other dimensions, or no species outside of humans? That seemsirrational–and frankly, narrow-minded–to me.

As the miles pass and I get some distance, the house’s hold loosens on me ever so slightly and I remember what I’m doing here. My decision has been made. What’s done is done. I should put all thoughts of what transpired there in the past and look to the future.

It, thankfully, only takes about ten minutes to get to my new home, the freshly painted light blue exterior coming into view as I take a wide turn into the neighborhood. It’s much more suburban than anywhere I’ve lived in a long time. I thought it’d make me feel safe, but looking around at the neighbors and the similar houses, it feels suffocating. I’m sure I’ll adjust;I hope.

The movers reverse into the driveway and I push the garage door opener as I parallel park on the street to stay out of their way. While they prep, I unlock the door and bring a very confused, yet relieved, Binx inside. Neither of us enjoyed the drive with him meowing his displeasure about being stuffed in his carrier and on the road against his will. He especially hated the jaunt down the freeway.

Ironically, the house feels dead inside. The bare, intensely white walls glare back at me. The new tile floor echoes my footsteps back at me intimidatingly. Everything is cold and devoid of all personality.Anyonecould live here. There’s nothing special or unique about it. I fight the urge to recoil as I make my way to my new bedroom. It’s just going to take some adjusting. Sure, the old house had a lot of character, but it also had a ghost. One that did try to drown me.But didn’t.My subconscious tacks on.

I stop in the bathroom to let Binx out. Once I unload all his necessities, I go back out to the living space to start unpacking. The plan lasts about five minutes. As soon as my bed is unloaded, I leave the half-unpacked box of dishes on the counter and grab my laptop instead. I’m unable to focus on the website redesign I’m supposed to be working on, though. Everything feelswrong—and it’s not just because the bare mattress is itching the shit out of my legs—but I push myself to focus since I have a looming deadline.

Disappearing into my work always helps. After another hour, the movers finish up and I’m officially alone in my new home. A low rumble from my stomach reminds me that I didn’t get a chance to eat today. I’m suddenly ravenous, like I’m about to tear into the first thing I see, hungry. I inhale a string of cheese to stave off the edge while I make something more filling. That’s when I realize I don’t have anything unpacked other than the few fridge things I brought over in the little cooler. Taking inventory is quick—just a few apples, string cheese, and some Greek yogurt. I eye the nearly empty box of cereal on the counter and my stomach rumbles louder in protest at the idea. Yeah, that’s absolutely not going to cut it.

I shut the fridge disappointedly and go find my phone. I pull up my go-to food delivery app and scroll through the options. I know I’m hungry, but for what, I have no clue.Some dick.My brain supplies unhelpfully. For a second I consider opening one of my dating apps, but then I remember how it ended the last time and immediately shut that down. Just food it is, then. Finally, I decide on pizza, with a side salad and cannoli, of course.

I have about forty-five minutes until it arrives, so I decide to take a shower. Thankfully, I know myself and have a towel, clean sheets, my pajamas, and toiletries packed in a duffle bag for easy access. Once the water is hot, I step into the shower, closing the door behind me. It’s kind of tight quarters—apparently even new builders don’t consider fat people when building houses, typical. At least there’s enough room for me to raise my arms and wash my hair, but it’s going to be kind of a bitch to shave my legs.A problem for future Skye.

I scrub my hair, rubbing my scalp to ease some of the tension that’s been haunting me since I got here. I use my favorite watermelon-mint soap and by the time I turn off the water, I feel so much lighter, fresh even. I slide on a pair of soft shorts and a cropped tank top of the same breathable material and throw my hair up in a towel. When I check my phone, the delivery app tells me my driver is fifteen minutes out. That’s the perfect amount of time to open that bottle of wine I’d set aside and enjoy a glass while I put some sheets on the bed.

As I toss the last of my arguably too many throw pillows on top of my duvet, the doorbell rings. I grit my teeth as the shrill sound reverberates off the walls. Once it stops, I gulp down the rest of my wine and grab my phone as I head for the door, careful not to trip over Binx as he excitedly weaves between my feet. I pass the mirror and give myself a quick once-over. The bags under my eyes are pretty bad from all the lost sleep over the last few months, but who cares. It kind of works with my grungy aesthetic anyways.

When I open the door, I’m shocked to find a hot blond with perky tits that I want in my mouth immediately. I must be staring openly because she lets out a soft laugh that’s music to my ears. She clears her throat drawing my attention to hazel eyes that shine with flirtation.

I wrestle with the urge to invite her in but decide against it. “Thank you, I already tipped in the app, so we’re good.”

She doesn’t turn to go. “I know. A generous one, too. I think that merits some extra assistance.” When I don’t immediately object, she smiles brightly and steps closer.

Fuck, she smells like the perfect blend of spice and florals. I’m barely able to resist the temptation. “I appreciate the offer, I do, I just . . .”Can’t get a fucking stranger I’ll probably never see again out of my head.

“I get it, no pressure. If you’re ever, umm, up for aspecialdelivery, look me up. Name’s Melissa Pierce.”

I sigh and shut the door behind me; disappointed with how he’s got me so wrapped up overnothing. I head to the kitchen and sit down to eat, but my mind isn’t on my food. Instead, it cooks up a nice little fantasy—one where I didn’t turn her away.

She follows without hesitation and shuts the door behind her. Melissa even removes her shoes and leaves them by the door. I like her already.

“You have this place all to yourself?” Curiosity and suggestiveness color her words.

“I do.” I set the bag on the counter.When I turn back toward her. She doesn’t waste any time. Melissa presses me against the fridge while her fingers travel down my sides exposed by the crop top. Her nails dig into me just slightly as she feathers kisses along my jaw and up to the corner of my lips.

“Get up on the counter,” she whispers seductively.

My ass barely makes contact with the marble before she’s tugging at the waistband of my shorts. I lift my hips in response and revel in delight as her pupils blow wide at the sight of my bare cunt.

Soft as rose petals, her dainty fingers part my thighs. “Is this okay?” Her hot breath tickles the sensitive skin as she leans closer. Green eyes shine up at me with desire that has my muscles clenching.

“Fuck, yes.” I pant as her pouty lips place a kiss on my clit. My hips roll against her mouth of their own volition. She responds by flicking her tongue up and down my center, teasing and massaging eagerly as I become increasingly wetter. “Mmm, yeah, just like that.” I grip her shiny ponytail in my fist and pull her head back. She smirks up at me with glossy lips and I haul her up to taste myself on her lips. Our tongues tangle in a fiery kiss. Hungry for more, I pull her tube top down to expose her small, silver-tipped breasts. I slide off the counter, desperate to have them in my mouth. The moan she lets out when my hot tongue meets her rosy, pierced nipple sends a flood of arousal gushing out of me.

As if she can sense it, she slides a hand between us and rolls her fingers over my clit in taunting circles. “Bedroom?”

I nod and break away, leading her down the hall quickly. I sit on the bed and watch her finish undressing, removing a pair of lacy panties and jeans that hug her ass so perfectly.

The fantasy glitches and suddenly, Aiden is standing behind her, a jealous scowl on his face. With some effort, I redirect my thoughts and pick up where I left off.

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