You Asked For Me

Melissa’s iPhone buzzed on the nightstand. Squinting, she fumbled to silence it and lay still. Her father's voice drifted up the stairs, barely registering through her sleep-heavy haze. When he called her name again, she groaned and swung her legs out of bed.

 She headed to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She reached for a towel when she heard, “Melissa, I know what you did to me!” It was her mom, sobbing from the bathtub faucet.

She tightened her grip on the towel and turned toward the tub. Her lips quivered as she whispered her mom's name. The crying stopped when she heard her father's voice coming up from downstairs.

“Melissa, I’m not going to tell you again. If you don’t get down here right now, I’m going to throw your breakfast in the garbage."

  She blinked, then sighed.

 “Yeah, Dad, coming.”

Her footsteps thundered down the stairs. Her father’s fork froze halfway to his mouth, and he tightened his grip as Melissa entered the kitchen.

“How many times do I have to tell you to walk gently down the stairs? You sound like you’re about to come through the ceiling,” he said. 

Melissa rolled her eyes.

“Well, we wouldn’t have this problem if we were still living in our old house in Boston.”

He dropped his fork on the table. 

“Starting at a new school is hard.” He sipped his coffee. “But we had to get away, Melissa.”

He unzipped her school bag and put her lunch bag in.

“I made you a chicken sandwich with mayo.”

She gave a blank stare.

“Thanks.”  

She lowered her gaze. When she looked up again, tears blurred her father’s face.

“I miss her. She was supposed to be at my graduation, but now she won’t be there for any of it.”

He pushed back his chair and opened his arms. She stepped into them and rested her head against his chest. 

“Dad, I keep hearing Mom cry in the bathtub. It wakes me up in the middle of the night.” She looked up at him, her arms wrapped around his waist.

His hands remained around her while the birds chirped through the kitchen.

“Sweetie, there’s no one else in this house.” He hesitated. “I think it’s time you talked to someone besides me.”

She shoved her father away and shook her head.

“I wish you would just listen to me instead of assuming it’s all in my head.”     

He scratched his forehead, then walked closer to her.

“I’ve always believed in you, sweetheart, but sometimes you exaggerate about the things you don’t like.” With a lighthearted laugh, he suggested, “Give this place a chance. Who knows? It might grow on you.”

Her jaw tightened, and she grabbed her school bag.

“Whatever, I’d better get going, or I’m going to be late for school.”

Her father fell silent and watched her leave. He stared at his wife's memorial card and murmured,

 “Why did you have to leave me so soon?”

 A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“You were right about raising teenage girls. It’s the hardest thing to do.” He sighed. “I would give anything to hear you again.”

***

His shoulders jerked at the thump from upstairs. He called out, “Melissa,” but no one answered. He climbed slowly until a whisper called his name.

“Davey, honey, it's me.”

He stopped halfway up the stairs, trembling.

“It can’t be you. This is all in my imagination.”  

The voice answered. “You're not imagining anything. It's me.”

A rattle knocked the photo off the wall, and it fell to the bottom of the staircase.

“You asked for me, and now I’m here.”

 His knuckles whitened on the railing as he shook his head, refusing to budge.

“You’re not, really. Melissa, this isn’t a game. You need to stop this right now.”

The voice began singing their wedding song, and the bathroom faucet turned on.

“When I see the devil’s eyes, I’ll look away.”

 He squeezed his eyes shut and counted his breaths, but the voice wouldn’t stop. It kept going.

“Can you, can you, can you find me?”

He climbed the rest of the way, leaving the bathroom faucet running. He peeked inside, but no one was there. After turning off the faucet, he entered Melissa's bedroom.

A whisper came from behind him.

“You found me.”

He pushed the door open and stumbled into the doorway at the sight of his deceased wife lying on his bed, only to see her alive and well, wearing her wedding dress.

 “Did you miss me, honey?” She tilted her head. “You should have listened to Melissa. That’s the secret to raising a teenager."

He covered his face and kept saying to himself, “You’re not real. I watched you die in the hospital. This is impossible.” 

She hovered in mid-air, drifting through him like a cold draft. He turned and watched her glide down the hall.

“You saw me die in the hospital, but I’ve returned to save you from these evil spirits.”

Her smile never reached her eyes.

“What do you mean by evil spirits, Leeanne?” He hesitated. “How can I be certain you’re not an evil spirit?”

 She moved closer. 

“Davey, honey, the day I died at that hospital, the doctors said it was due to complications from the surgery.” 

David followed her into the bathroom. She turned on the faucet and went on. “How is that possible when I only went in for a foot surgery?”

 He fumbled for words, shaking his head slightly.

“So how did you die then?”

She lowered her voice.

“By pushing air into my IV bag.”

 The faucet ran harder, splashing water all over the bathroom floor. “Think about it, Davey. When you walked into the room, the machine was going off. Didn’t you notice anything?"

He kept hearing the monitor beeping as doctors and nurses pushed him aside, defibrillating her while other nurses checked her IV bag.

“Yeah, but I thought one of the nurses did that, not her. So, if you didn’t die from complications, who killed you?”

A flat voice came from the hall.

“I did, Daddy.”

He turned and saw Melissa standing at the top of the stairs. Her backpack sat on her shoulders, and she held a knife.

“The spirits told me to, Daddy, and now they are telling me to kill you too.”

She stepped closer. “Just like when they told me to kill Mommy.” 

He slipped to the floor, screaming with his hands raised for protection.

“Sweetie, please, you don’t have to do this.”

Their heads turned in perfect unison as Leeanne hovered above him while Melissa stood still.

“They don’t tell her anything, Davey. They answer to her.”

Melissa cut in. “Yeah, Daddy, join us so we can be a family again.” 

Leeanne's hand traced his cheek, cold as winter snow. “Give yourself to her, Davey,” she whispered, “and we'll be together on the other side.”

His lip shivered as he imagined being with his wife again. After a brief hesitation, he nodded, spreading his arms wide.

 Melissa raised her blade and stabbed him until he drew his last breath. Blood splattered her face. She didn’t blink.

 The lights went out as the cold air rushed into the house through shattered windows.

Dad’s spirit rose from his chest and drifted toward Leeanne as Melissa watched her parents’ forms merge and fade with the final words. 

Melissa stood over her dad’s body, the knife dripping from her hand.

“You’re under my command now,” she whispered.

In her backpack, her phone buzzed. This time, no one called her name.