Jonas made it through the rest of his day at school. At home, he and his parents were sitting at their small round wooden dining table, like they did most nights for dinner. It was a Tuesday. It was spaghetti night.
That night something seemed off, his parents were more silent than usual. Instead of looking at him with a worried expression, they were looking at each other as if they both had something to say but neither one of them wanted to be the one to begin. Ok, this is weirding me out.
The phone rang and his mother jumped up in her seat. Dread welled up in her eyes as she looked to her husband. She nodded at him and he got up and answered the call.
"Hello?" his dad had answered. "Yes, hi, were you able to locate her?" His dad was silent for a moment, listening to the person on the other end. "Sorry to hear... Yes, I understand... No, no, I don't think that will be necessary, we have at least...." His father seemed cut short and Jonas watched his mother stare at him for what seemed a very long time. "What?!" his father finally called out. "How is that possible?" Another pause. "I see, well that is terrible news." He looked over to his wife and shook his head. "Okay, okay, of course, we'll take the precautions... Okay, see you soon, bye." His father hung up the phone with a sigh.
"What's wrong dad?" Jonas examined the peculiar exchange with interest, but still had no idea what was going on, or who that was on the phone.
"Aunt Tily." His father said.
"Yes, dear?" The dead woman beside Jonas asked. Huh? When did she get there? Bloated and blue-lipped, she sat in the empty seat next to him. He groaned internally and tried to ignore her. He focused on his dad as he was about to continue.
"She died." his dad finished.
"It happens to us all." The dead woman said.
Huh? Jonas thought. Was she actually trying to communicate with his parents? That was new. Could she see them too?
"Darn it, I hoped they'd find her," his mother griped. "But what did he say? Did they calculate how many years until..." She didn't finish her sentence, instead, she glanced at Jonas and then quickly back to her husband "...the next?" She ended.
"They think it could be anytime now if we're not careful."
"What! No, that's crazy! That's impossible, is it not?" His mother cried.
His father's tone was serious and sad at the same time. His face grew heavy, strained, and the lines on his forehead grew. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair, took a deep breath in and then slowly let it out while he looked at Jonas. A small vein even popped out at the side of his head.
His mom grabbed hold of his dad's hands as he sat back down at the table and she shook her head repeatedly, whispering "no, no, no."
"I don't get it, who's Aunti Tily?" Jonas raised his voice, trying to get his parents to acknowledge him.
They were in their own world. "Tell me it's not possible." His mother pleaded.
But the dead woman next to him seemed to have plenty to say. "Oh yes, very much so, very possible." She was looking at Jonas, her eyes glazed over but still blue with life and matching her glistening skin. She raised her swollen hand up, pointed directly at him with a blackened finger and said, "You're next."
Like he was hit with a bullet, Jonas flew back in his chair, knocking it over and hitting his head on the buffet. As he scrambled to stand back up, he knocked a vase of flowers over, sent it crashing to the dining room floor. He jumped sideways to avoid the spill. He didn't want his black high top Converse to get wet with stinky flower water. He really loved his shoes.
"Sorry Mom, but what is going on? Why is she saying I'm next?" Jonas pointed to what his parents saw as an empty seat. "Next for what?" Freaking out, he stood there in his old Imagine Dragons t-shirt, arms held out, waiting for an explanation.
"Who are you talking about, Jonas? Do you see one of your ghosts?" His dad asked him. His mother gasped, pulled both her hands up to her mouth, searching the room with her eyes, afraid of what she might see.
"Yeah, Ms. Waterlogged over here. What's up with her? Why is she even talking to me?"
His parents looked confused at his question.
"Don't they always talk to you, Jonas?" his father pressed.
"No, Dad, I've told you before, they just ask me questions, ask me to do things for them," Jonas reminded him. "This lady told me, I'm next, she said, 'you're next'. She was even saying stuff to you guys." He stood silently and waited again for an explanation, but none came. He raised his voice an octave louder and asked, "WELL?"
"Let's just tell him," his mother pleaded with her husband. "It's now or never."
His dad took another deep breath but stayed silent.
"What, are we just going to ship him off somewhere, or lock him up without even telling him why?" his mom argued.
"No. No, babe, I know you're right. It's just, how do you tell your kid something like this, I thought we'd have more time to prepare, I wasn't expecting that call this morning, nor any help from Jonas'... friends."
"Ugh, hello, still here.." Jonas mocked, waved hello to make his point a bit clearer, "and they're not my friends, Dad."
"Sorry, Jo, I know, bud, sorry. I just wanted a bit more time." His father got up and walked around the table and put both his hands protectively on Jonas' shoulders. He drew him into a hug and continued, "We're going to get you through this, Jo, no matter what. You'll be fine, I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."
"Okay, whoa." Jonas gently pushed his father away. He swiped the black hair out of his face so he could see him clearly and look him in the eyes. "You are totally freaking me out now, dad. Will you please just tell me what's going on?"
"Come sit, both of you," Mom urged, hating every minute that was to come. "Let's just start from the beginning. But first, Jonas, is the ghost still here?"
"Yeah, she's still there." He motioned again to the empty chair, "Kind of smirking now, actually."
"If she's talking to you, can't you just ask her who she is?" his mom shrugged.
"I think I already know who she is," Dad said, still standing, unable to take a seat for fear of sitting next to the dead lady.
"Who?" asked both Jonas and his mother.
Then in unison, he and Ms. Waterlogged declared, "Aunt Tily."